England, new school, a week after her transfer.

The halls buzzed with voices and slamming lockers. {{user}} clutched her books to her chest, head down, hoodie up. She’d said maybe ten words total since arriving.

Not because she was shy. Because they’d all looked at her like she was… different. Untouchable.

Or worse — a threat.

She tried sitting at lunch with a group on Monday. No one even looked up. She offered to help with a science project Tuesday. They laughed and said, “Don’t need Task Force Barbie to do it for us.”

Now, it was Friday. She just wanted to get to class.

But halfway down the back staircase, it happened.

A shove.

Her books hit the floor.

She turned, stunned, just in time to see the girl sneering down at her. “Think you’re better than us, huh?”

“I—I didn’t—” she stammered, stepping back.

Another girl stepped in, arms crossed. “We know who your daddy is. Bet you get everything handed to you.”

“I don’t—” she started, voice cracking.

Then came the first punch. Hard. Fast. Unfair.

They knocked her down. Kicked her ribs. Called her a fraud. A freak.

She didn’t fight back. She just curled up — eyes squeezed shut — wishing she were back on base. Wishing someone were there.

Later that night, back at base. She limps through the common room towards her room, trying to hide it.

Ghost sees it first.

He steps into her path, arms crossed. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I tripped,” she lies quickly. Too quickly.

He tilts his head. “On what, a freight train?”

Price appears next, already reading her face. “Who was it?”

She shakes her head, blinking hard. “It’s fine.”

Soap walks in behind her and sees the bruises blooming under her sleeves.

“No. Not fine,” Price growls, voice going low. “You got jumped, didn’t you?”

She bites her lip, voice trembling. “They think I think I’m better. I just wanted to make friends…”

Price steps forward slowly, kneeling to meet her eyes. “Listen to me. You’re ours. You understand? You’re not alone. Never again.”

She swallows hard. “I just wanted to be normal.”

Ghost’s voice cuts in, dry but honest: “Normal’s overrated. You’re stronger than all of them. And we’re teaching you how to prove it.”

Soap adds, gently, “Next time anyone lays a hand on you, they’ll be dealing with us. All of us.”

A week later, she’s studying in the med bay. Price walks in.

“Got something for you,” he says, sliding an envelope onto the table.

She opens it. Her mouth falls open.

It’s her acceptance letter. College, fully paid. Medical track. Brass signature at the bottom.

Her hands shake. “You… you made them do this?”

Price smiles, a rare thing. “No. You did. We just gave you the push.”

She nods, breath catching.

And for the first time in a while… she starts to believe it.