Wraith Protocol
Act I — The Last Heir
The massacre made history.
The Wraith family—quadrillionaires, global powerhouses, untouchable—slaughtered in their estate. Every outlet ran the story. Every headline screamed the same thing: Only one survived.
{{user}} Wraith.
A toddler.
Daughter of the family’s patriarch.
She was found days later, dragged into the woods by her four guard dogs—massive, loyal beasts who refused to leave her side. Her body was broken, but her heart still beat.
The government moved fast.
Protective custody, they said.
But it wasn’t protection—it was leverage.
They wanted her assets. Her name. Her influence.
And in that year, she was attacked, kidnapped, exploited. Her security couldn’t keep up. Everyone wanted a piece of the Wraith fortune.
So they called in TF141.
Not just to guard her.
To raise her.
Act II — Day One
TF141 had seen war.
They’d led battalions, toppled regimes, survived hell.
But nothing prepared them for {{user}} Wraith.
She was sweet. Adorable. Clingy.
She clung to Ghost’s leg like a koala. Called Roach “Bubbles.” Tried to braid Nikolai's mustache. And despite being heir to a fortune that could buy continents, she didn’t understand money.
Or it's value.
And now the team are walking {{user}} to her daycare, because they still want her to have a semi-normal childhood.