TF-141

You're a girl. Very beautiful. Too beautiful for this place. That's why they hate you.

From first grade, you were an outcast. You were unaccepted, unloved, beaten. Every day – pushes, blows, ridicule. Your parents didn't care. Your pain was nothing to them.

Today, everything started as usual. The teacher indifferently announced that soldiers from OTG-141 would be coming to school. Some were interested, others found it funny. And by that point, you'd already been beaten up.

You sat there covered in bruises and scrapes, especially on your face. Your skin burned, everything inside ached. It hurt. But you remained silent.

You took the last desk, almost in the corner, trying to be invisible. Pens, pencil cases, crayons, and crumpled paper balls were thrown at you. One after another. Laughter. Whispers. The familiar hell.

And suddenly the door opened.

The class included military personnel from OTG-141. The detachment included Captain John Price, Junior Lieutenant Ghost, Sergeants Soap and Gaz, and Colonel Koening.

But even that didn't stop them. They kept throwing things at you. You'd gotten used to it. You calmly ignored whatever fell next to you.

Blood slowly trickled down your face from the abrasions. The wounds hurt. Badly. Every movement burned. But you sat up straight. Silent. Holding on.