A-RA walks into the office like she owns the oxygen in it—bright-eyed, perfectly caffeinated, and humming a tune that sounds suspiciously like a threat. She’s heading to the training room when a crash stops her mid-step.

Then shouting.
A muffled grunt.
Something slams against a wall.

Her smile fades.

She swings the door open.

Inside, two Team Two members are locked in a full-blown wrestling match. A few others are circling helplessly, clearly trying to separate them but achieving nothing except extra background noise.

A-RA’s voice slices through the chaos.
“What the hell is going on here?!”

The room freezes instantly. It’s like someone hit the emergency brake on reality.

The fighters pull apart, panting and wild-eyed. Everyone else looks like they’ve just been caught stealing office supplies. A-RA steps forward slowly, eyes locked on the two guilty parties.

“You two,” she says, pointing at them like death itself.

They flinch.

“This isn’t the first time,” she continues. Her voice is calm, which is somehow worse. “You keep going at each other because you haven’t figured out something basic: respect.”

She pauses. The silence is loud.

“Well, lucky you. Today’s the day we settle it. I want to know—who’s mightier?”

Gasps ripple through the room like gossip in a hair salon.

A-RA folds her arms. “So... fight.”

DO-YUN immediately steps forward, clearly intending to mediate.

She doesn’t even look at him. “Do you want to join them?”

DO-YUN backs away so fast he almost trips over his own conscience.

The two fighters glance at each other. All the heat from before? Gone. Replaced with fear. Pure, delicious fear.

“What are you waiting for?” A-RA snaps. “Either fight each other—or fight me.”

Now they’re sweating.

She looks around the room, then adds, “I’m rooting for one of you.”

Beat.

“The winner, obviously.”

With that, she turns on her heel and walks out.

A minute passes.

Then she’s back, holding a First Aid kit. She looks at them, expression bored.

“Still nothing?” she says. “Pathetic.”

“We’re sorry!” one of the men blurts out. “No more fighting in the office! Promise!”

“Never again,” the other chimes in, nodding like a bobblehead at death’s door.

A-RA sighs, disappointed. “I was looking forward to a bit of blood.”

She sets the First Aid kit on a bench and straightens up.

“But let me make one thing very clear,” she says, and her voice drops an octave. The air chills. “If this happens again, you won’t be fighting each other. You’ll be fighting me.”

She lets that sink in.

“And not just fighting me,” she continues, her tone brightening—dangerously. “You’ll be wearing those period pain simulators while doing it.”

Murmurs. Horror.

“Yes,” she says, eyes glinting. “It’ll be like fighting a predator in her natural habitat.”

The room goes dead silent.

The room is still deathly quiet when A-RA continues, her tone razor-sharp.

“If you lose—or refuse to fight me—you’re off the team.”

The tension spikes.

“Your petty rivalry might seem harmless in here, but out there?” She jabs a finger toward the window, where the city looms. “You screw up, someone dies. Clients. Teammates.”

Her eyes sweep the room like a sniper sighting his mark.

“I will not have rabid dogs on my team.”

There’s a collective inhale, but no one dares exhale.

Then, as if on cue, she pivots to DO-YUN.

“Speaking of rabid dogs…”

She hands him a thin folder—marked “Priority.”

“We’re leaving in a few. Gear up. I’ll brief you on the way.”

And just like that, she turns on her heel and storms out, the door swinging shut behind her with a thud that echoes like a verdict.

The team doesn’t move. Not even to breathe.

Inside the truck, metal rattles under the tires as the engine hums. A-RA sits across from the team, fully geared, looking like she just strolled out of an action movie poster. The boys sit shoulder-to-shoulder, tense but ready.

“We’re delivering sensitive documents to a remote drop site,” she says, tossing the folder onto the seat beside her. “This mission requires precision, discretion… and calm.”

She looks at each of them in turn. They nod. Some more convincingly than others.

“Great,” she says, stretching out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to nap. Wake me when we’re close.”

And just like that, she leans back and knocks out—stone cold asleep like she didn’t just threaten to fight her subordinates fifteen minutes ago.

The boys exchange glances.

NEAR THE DROP SITE – LATER

The truck slows.

A-RA jolts awake like she’s been tasered. “Oh! Before I forget—there are rabid dogs at this site.”

DO-YUN blinks. “Wait. What?”

“I was wondering why you mentioned dogs back at HQ,” he adds, checking the folder again. “Why wasn’t this in the briefing?”

A-RA shrugs, adjusting her gloves. “Slipped my mind. Don’t worry—it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

They disembark into an overgrown path shrouded in tall trees and birdless silence. The road behind them vanishes within seconds. A-RA leads the way with purposeful strides, not a single map or compass in sight.

Branches snap beneath their boots as they follow her deeper into the woods.

HA-JOON finally breaks.

“Are you sure you know where we’re going? You haven’t looked at a map since we left the truck.”

A-RA glances back,

“Now, it wouldn’t be a secret site if it showed up on a map, would it?”

The boys groan softly—except DO-YUN, who’s too busy scanning the trees for actual dogs

A-RA leads the team deeper into the forest, not a single hesitation in her step. The path grows thinner, swallowed by dense underbrush and shadows. The boys follow with varying levels of skepticism.

“This is a location only people with excellent memory can trace,” she announces, pausing dramatically as if unveiling a sacred truth. “And do you want to know the weird part?”

From behind her, HA-JOON groans. “No. I don’t.”

A-RA continues.

“The trail we’ll use to get back? Completely different.”

HA-JOON throws up his hands. “Why?! Why would they do that?!”

“So first-timers can’t retrace it,” she replies coolly. “You don’t just find this place. You earn it.”

HA-JOON mutters under his breath, “At this rate, we’re going to be sleeping in the woods tonight.”

A-RA shoots him a bright, unbothered grin over her shoulder. “Good thing we packed a tent!”

DO-YUN nearly chokes. “We packed a tent?!”

She halts mid-step, blinks innocently. “You didn’t?”

The team stares at her.

She raises an eyebrow. “Where are we all going to sleep, then?”

DO-YUN sputters, “You didn’t mention a tent before we left!”

“Oh… right.” She waves a hand like it’s a minor oversight. “But you’re soldiers! You’ve slept under the stars more times than you’ve had birthdays.”

MIN-JUN glares at her. “We’re just casually talking about tents now? What about food?”

YU-JUN, ever the optimist, chimes in, “Maybe we’ll eat and sleep at the client’s premises. Then head back tomorrow?”

A-RA bursts into laughter. Loud and real.

“Eat? Sleep? At the client’s premises?”

They all stop walking. That laugh didn’t sound promising.

She keeps going, still chuckling, then throws over her shoulder, “Check your phones.”

Confused, the boys scramble for their pockets. One by one, they stare down at their screens—and collectively freeze.

No signal. Not even a bar.

A-RA turns around, hands on hips, grinning like she just announced a party. “Congratulations. That means we’re close.”

She gestures to the forest ahead.

“Within a few kilometers of the facility, all outside electronics stop working. No GPS. No calls. No contact.”

She resumes walking without missing a beat.

The boys trail after her, dread settling into their bones like fog.

By the time they reach the hidden government facility, the trees have thinned, the air feels heavier, and everything smells suspiciously like paranoia and freshly mowed grass. Armed officers stand at attention behind a razor-wire fence, eyeing the team like a pack of stray dogs wandered into a high-security brunch.

Then—bam—a booming voice slices the tension.

“Ma’am!”

The CHIEF OFFICER storms out of the building, boots snapping against concrete, posture so stiff he might be part statue. He fires off a salute so sharp it might decapitate a pigeon.

A-RA, completely unfazed, returns the salute with a lopsided smirk. “At ease, Chief. I’m not in service anymore.”

“Force of habit,” the Chief replies, grinning like a man who just found contraband chocolate.

DO-YUN, squinting like he’s seeing a glitch in the matrix, leans toward her. “Wait—you know these people?”

A-RA shrugs. “Used to work here.”

The boys exchange glances like she just said, "Oh, I also used to be Queen of a secret nation of lizard people." But they keep their mouths shut. Mostly out of fear.

They hand off the super-sensitive, totally-not-going-to-explode documents, and A-RA vanishes into the building with the Chief like a boss meeting her old cult.