Trella opened the door, only to find Michelle standing there, pale, shaking, and furious.

“You look like hell,” Trella said quietly.

“Shut up! That’s because of you! We need to talk. I need answers. Now.”

Michelle stood in the doorway like a storm barely holding itself together. Trella’s eyes widened with surprise before she stepped aside to let her in. Inside, the others were scattered around the living room. Aya was scrubbing soot off her arms, Mei-Ling was stitching a burn on her sleeve, and the smell of smoke clung to all of them. Each messy detail made Michelle’s heart pound harder.

“What are you?” Michelle demanded. “I saw you last night. You run into fire like it’s nothing. You fight like soldiers. You’ve got weapons, scars, secrets—”

Her voice cracked.

“And I’m just supposed to pretend I don’t see it? That you’re just… normal classmates?”

Her breath hitched. The words tangled into sobs. Everything poured out at once: fear, anger, confusion—too much to hold anymore. Tears blurred the room.

Trella didn’t speak. She didn’t argue. She simply sat down with her on the couch and pulled Michelle into her arms, holding her with a softness that felt nothing like the fearsome girl Michelle thought she knew.

“It’s okay,” Trella whispered quietly, almost fragile compared to her usual commanding tone. “You don’t have to understand everything yet. Just know we’re not your enemy. We don’t want to hurt you.”

Michelle pressed her face into Trella’s shoulder and sobbed harder than she had in years. The other girls watched quietly, unusually gentle. For the first time, Michelle believed them.

One by one, the girls drifted out, giving her space. Trella lingered by the door for a moment longer before slipping out as well. A long silence settled… until someone appeared.

“Rough night, huh?”

Michelle jumped. Talia leaned in the doorway with her hands shoved in the pockets of her coveralls, looking like she’d just crawled out from under a car.

“You have no idea,” Michelle muttered.

Talia flopped into an armchair across from her, slouching in the least-threatening way imaginable.

“You know,” she said, “two years ago I was exactly where you are. Sitting right there, actually. On the same ugly couch.”

Michelle blinked. “You?”

“Yup. Except I wasn’t crying, I was… let’s call it ugly screaming. I’d just figured out who these girls really were. Thought I’d walked straight into a horror movie. Soldiers, killers, guns everywhere—terrified me. I mean, come on. Look at Aya. You’ve seen her biceps? That girl could snap me in half like a toothpick.”

A tiny laugh escaped Michelle before she could stop it.

“Exactly,” Talia said smugly. “But once the shock wears off, you see it. They’re just kids. Goofy, chaotic kids. Samira steals my screwdriver set every other day. Amelie blasts depressing metal when I’m trying to work. And Liza—don’t get me started on her ‘experiments.’ Half the time I think she’s going to gas the whole house by accident.”

Michelle tilted her head. “But… aren’t they soldiers?”

“Yeah. They are. And they shouldn’t have to be. But that doesn’t mean they don’t care. You saw it tonight with the fire. No orders, no paycheck. Just people in danger. They ran straight in. That’s who they are.”

Talia slid closer and gently wrapped her in a hug.

In the hallway, Trella and Aya spoke quietly.

“Good thinking sending Talia in there,” Aya murmured.

“Yeah… She’s one of us, but she’s the only one who isn’t like us. Michelle was about to have a nervous breakdown. I couldn’t watch it. Felt like breaking rule number one.”

“‘Never hurt innocent bystanders,’” Aya said. “Not sure I’d call her a bystander anymore. But… I get it. I feel bad for her too.”

Trella sighed. “Her father wanted me to scare her away. It just didn’t feel right. Now she’s here, and we need to take responsibility.”

Aya smirked. “I have an idea.”

She headed off.

Back in the living room, Michelle wiped her eyes.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Talia said. “I was too. But you’ll figure out soon enough—under all the scars and training, they’re just lovable idiots. Give them a chance, and they’ll treat you like family.”

Michelle hesitated. “…Even Katya?”

“Especially Katya,” Talia grinned. “The scary ones are always the softest.”

Michelle laughed—shaky, but real. Just then, the door swung open. Mei-Ling poked her head in with a devilish smile.

“There you are! Finally! We’re waiting!”

Michelle blinked. “Waiting… for what?”

Mei-Ling grabbed her wrist. “Come on. You’ll see!”

Michelle was dragged upstairs into a larger room. Aya sat on the floor in a tank top, shuffling a battered deck of cards with her big hands. Liza grinned with mischief in her eyes. Samira lounged on a beanbag with sunflower seeds, and Anya tapped away on her phone.

“What is this?” Michelle asked.

“Cranko,” Aya announced. “House rules: no cheating, no whining. Loser does push-ups.”

“Push-ups?”

“Да,” said a voice from the shadows.

Michelle jumped. Katya had materialized from the windowsill like a ghost.

“It’s tradition,” the sniper said with a smirk.

Before Michelle could react, Mei-Ling plopped her into the circle.

“You’ll learn. Don’t worry—Aya always loses.”

“Not true!” Aya barked, flexing aggressively.

“You can flex all you want, Beast,” Samira said dryly. “Still can’t bluff to save your life.”

The game began—a chaotic mix of poker, something invented on the spot, and Liza making up rules whenever convenient. The room quickly filled with laughter, arguments, and groans as Aya failed spectacularly at bluffing.

Michelle lost her first round.

Everyone yelled in unison: “Push-ups!”

“I can’t—”

But Aya was already beside her. “No problem! I will teach you!”

She dropped down dramatically beside Michelle, counting each rep with over-the-top enthusiasm until Michelle collapsed laughing. Even Katya cracked the faintest smile.

For the first time, Michelle didn’t feel like an outsider. She felt… almost like one of them.

The laughter carried through the halls as the house faded into a warm blur of light and noise.

***

Later that night in an old, shabby apartment…

Later that night in an old, shabby apartment a girl is sitting at her desk, sipping coffee, while the glow of a computer screen was the only light, creating a gloomy atmosphere. A confident girl, who looks like she's seen a lot of action in her life. Messy hair, piercings, both arms covered in tattoos. The phone rang.

“Listening,” Maya said.

“I’ve got a job for you, Cortez,” a man replied. “This one’s different.”

“Something fast and entertaining, I hope.”

“I’m sending you a photo.”

Maya opened her email. A picture of a young girl stared back.

“You’re joking. What am I supposed to do with her? Babysit?”

“Kidnap her.”

Maya raised an eyebrow. “You want me to kidnap a child? Don’t you have street gangs for that? And what’s the deal with her?”

“She had protection. I sent a gang after her and the whole team ended up in the hospital. Her father is a politician running for Senate. He’s a problem for my boss.”

“…Interesting. Send me everything on her and those bodyguards.”

“We don’t know much about the bodyguards. I don´t care what you do with them, but we need her in one piece.”

The call ended.

Maya skimmed through the materials—school, schedule, guards… 

“Doesn´t look like a big deal. She gets picked up after school. One car. Easy.” —and then paused.

“No way… You’ve got to be kidding me…”

A familiar face stared up from a photo. Trella.

***

Next day Michelle wandered into the attic gym—half fitness studio, half military dojo. Barbells, ropes, heavy bags. Aya was there, of course, stretching like a predator preparing to pounce.

“Hey, civilian!” Aya called. “Want to see something cool?”

Michelle hesitated. “Depends on your definition of cool…”

Aya grinned, grabbed a barbell that looked heavy enough to anchor a ship and pressed it overhead with ease.

“Warm-up!”

Michelle gaped. “That’s your warm-up?!”

“Watch.”

Aya dropped into a handstand and started doing push-ups upside down. Her white hair brushed the mat with each dip.

“You’re not even human…” Michelle whispered.

“That’s debatable,” Aya replied.

“Do I even want to know how much that barbell weighs?”

“180 pounds,” Trella said casually from the doorway.

Michelle spun. “180?! That’s like… two of me!”

Aya shrugged. “They don’t call me Beast just because I’m pretty.”

Before Michelle could respond, Aya tossed her a medicine ball. Michelle nearly toppled over.

“This thing is made of concrete!”

Trella actually laughed—soft, real. Aya thumped Michelle’s back.

“Don’t worry. We’ll make you strong too.”

And somehow… Michelle believed her.

***

In the evening Maya sifted through the photos again, serious now.

“Street gangs are amateurs,” she muttered. “But beaten into a bloody mess like this… yeah. That fits. No coincidence. Trella and her group are definitely involved. Going after them would be suicide. I am not that desperate.”

She dialed a number.

“It’s me,” Maya said. “I did some digging. I’m not taking the job.”

“What?! You don’t get to—”

“Listen! I found out who her bodyguards are! I won´t get into the details, but if you have any sense for self preservation, you better leave that girl alone.”

“You don’t call the shots, Missy! You are working for me, you do as I say! We pay you for the hard work! So stop bitching and bring me that girl!”

“I’m a freelancer. I work for whoever I want. So consider this my resignation.”

She hung up.

“Fate has a weird sense of humor…” she murmured at Trella’s photo.

***

Next day at school Michelle sat in class, glancing nervously at the empty seat beside her. Trella wasn’t there. Aya walked in alone.

“Where is she?” Michelle asked.

“On a mission.”

“Wha—what kind of mission?”

“Assassination,” Aya said calmly, taking her seat.

Michelle froze. Her stomach twisted.

“Don’t panic. It’s nothing. They’ll be back tonight. We do this all the time.”

“They?”

“Trella, Katya, Liza, and Talia.”

Michelle swallowed, imagining them walking straight into danger.

Amelie appeared in the doorway waving at Aya.

“Doc needs help in the infirmary,” she said. “She needs muscle.”

Aya groaned. “Still better than history class.”

Amelie nodded toward Michelle. “What’s with her? She looked fine yesterday.”

“She found out about the mission,” Aya replied. “Hey, let´s take her with us. Might do her good.”

Aya smirked, then waved at Michelle.

“Come on. Field trip.”

“But class is about to—”

“About to be very boring. Move.”

They marched into the infirmary without knocking.

“We’re here!” Amelie called.

“Yo! Mils!” Aya added.

Wait. Did she just call her ´Mils´? Michelle thought.

“Ah, there you are. I need to move-” Milena turned and paused when she saw Michelle.

“I mean I said I needed some muscle,” she muttered.

“You can drop the act,” Aya said. “She knows. That is the girl Trella told you about.”

Michelle blinked. “Wait—you know each other?”

“Milena isn’t just the school doctor,” Amelie said. “She’s our doctor. And she lives with us.”

Michelle facepalmed. “Why am I even surprised…”

Milena gestured at a pile of poorly stored supplies. “Those morons left everything everywhere. I need it sorted. Some of it’s heavy.”

“Maybe you should come to the gym more,” Aya said dryly.

Milena shot her a glare; Aya smirked back.

Michelle laughed weakly—and somehow, even the chaos felt almost normal.