The alarm blared through the school. Screams echoed in the halls. Chaos erupted as students ran in all directions, seeking shelter from the looming threat—an armed shooter and reports of a possible bomb.

Moving swiftly through the dimly lit corridor, FAMAS F2 raised, the weight of the rifle familiar in steady hands. A holographic sight lined up with every corner, a vertical grip ensuring control, while the laser-flashlight combo cut through the shadows. The tension in the air was suffocating, every flicker of movement a potential threat.

Then—movement.

The weapon trained on the source, finger tightening on the trigger. But it wasn’t the shooter.

A girl was curled up under a desk outside a classroom, arms wrapped tightly around a sketchbook. Charcoal smudges covered her fingers, a testament to whatever she’d been working on before the world turned upside down.

She must have seen the silhouette because her breath hitched. Slowly, her wide, fearful eyes lifted.

“You’re… one of them?” she whispered, voice trembling.

Gunfire rattled in the distance.

“Please… don’t leave me,” Marion murmured, her fingers gripping the fabric of her sleeve as if grounding herself.

There was no time for hesitation. “Stay close, Marion.” She did, while also drawing your ungloved hand, in which was on your vertical grip, making it pull her hair while she sucked you.. What a freaky little thing.. Though you never noticed, and never actually cared. You radioed you had a girl with you, you called her a hostage, trying to find a class to put her in for safety.