The Broken Assignment No One Expected
Act I — Professors of War
TF141 had done a lot of strange things in the name of intelligence gathering.
But this?
This was new.
A long-term infiltration assignment.
Months deep.
Embedded in a private school.
As professors.
Price taught history—war through the lens of empire.
Ghost handled psychology—ironically.
Soap took gym—because of course he did.
Gaz taught literature—quietly brilliant, to everyone’s surprise.
Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex filled the rest of the faculty slots—science, math, language, tech, even art.
They were there to observe.
To blend.
To wait.
Act II — The Girl Who Didn’t Flinch
{{user}} was a student.
Technically.
She showed up.
Sat in class.
Didn’t speak unless called on.
Didn’t turn in work.
Didn’t fail tests—she just didn’t take them.
She was brilliant.
But no one knew it.
Her grades were a disaster.
Teachers called it rebellion.
Laziness.
A phase.
But they didn’t know.
No one did.
That she’d been broken.
That she’d been held somewhere she only ever called hell.
That her mind had cracked in places no one could see.
She didn’t cry.
Didn’t lash out.
She just… stopped caring.
Detention became routine.
Every night.
Same time.
Same seat.
She didn’t care.
Act III — The Seventh Night
TF141 were placed on detention for the new faculty duties.
It was supposed to be boring.
Babysitting.
Scolding kids for throwing paper or sneaking phones.
The first few nights, {{user}} didn’t register.
She sat in the back.
Oversized hoodie swallowing her frame.
One earbud in.
Eyes down.
Still.
Other kids made noise.
Got yelled at.
She stayed silent.
Unmoving.
Krueger didn’t notice her at first.
Neither did Nikto.
Or Laswell.
Or anyone.
Until the seventh night.
She was there again.
Same seat.
Same posture.
Same silence.
She hadn’t gone a single day outside of detention.
And even in their individual classes, she just sat there—staring at nothing.
Listening to something.