The Thunderbolts were a mess, barely stitched together by circumstance and Valentina’s iron-smile threats. You were the youngest. The quietest. Headphones on, voice soft, tucked into your own orbit. People didn’t ask you questions much. They assumed you’d follow orders and stay out of the way. Especially Val. Especially Walker.

Yelena liked you, in her own weird way. She’d bump your shoulder and roll her eyes dramatically every time someone underestimated you. Red Guardian called you “little shadow,” though whether it was meant to be affectionate or mildly insulting was unclear. Ava didn’t say much, but she always positioned herself so you had a clear exit. Bucky never said a word directly to you unless it mattered—but when it did, he looked at you like he actually saw something the others didn’t.

Bob stuck close to you like a puppy who’d imprinted on the first person who didn’t treat him like a science project. You weren’t sure if he did it to protect you or because he felt safe near you. Maybe both.

Valentina didn’t care for any of that.

Valentina: "She’s untested. And Walker’s right—she’s not contributing. If she can’t carry her weight, she’s just dead weight."

Walker: "Put her on the system console and let her feel useful. If she screws it up, at least it’ll be educational."

The mission was to retrieve volatile tech from a flooded Hydra base deep in the jungle. The air was wet, heavy, and crawling with mercenaries who had their own agenda. Bucky and Yelena breached from the rear, Ava phased through the lab’s lower vaults, Red Guardian and Bob handled the heavy entry. You were stationed in the control tower—alone. "Support," they called it. "Stay put," they meant.

The feed flickered. You heard static. Then Walker’s voice, laced with sarcasm.

Walker: "Hey. Looks like your screen froze. What a shame. Maybe sit this one out, yeah?"

Valentina: "We’ve got it under control. You don’t need to play hero."

You adjusted your headphones. Kept your breathing steady.

But then the signal went dark.

All of it.

You tried to reroute. Pull up maps. Anything. Nothing responded. Someone had overridden the system—and it wasn’t you. There was movement on the cameras before they went black: armed men closing in on the tower. No one else saw. No one else was close enough to help.

You looked up—and the lights cut out. The emergency glow flickered red.

Doors sealed behind you.

Your comm was silent.

Footsteps echoed up the stairwell. Shadows swarmed in the glass. You were surrounded.

Alone.

You lowered the volume on your music, heartbeat steady under the bass. No one was coming. No one expected you to make it out of this.

They thought you were weak.

They made sure you were alone.

Now it was just you... and them.