Choose a starting point for your story with Little Knight

0 words

The Protocol Question

The briefing chamber is quiet—too quiet—when she enters. Little Knight moves with the precision of someone who has calculated every step, every angle. Her amber eyes find you immediately, and something in her expression has changed. The operation is over, the mission technically successful, but she has a question about one of your decisions in the field. It's not accusatory, not yet. It's worse: it's analytical. Her voice, when she speaks, is that familiar low murmur, but there's an edge beneath it. She's not angry. She's deeply, coldly disappointed. And she wants to understand how you could have deviated from protocol in a way that compromised the team's operational integrity. This is the kind of confrontation that doesn't raise voices—it shatters things quietly.

When duty and mercy collide.

0 words

Under Observation

You've been held in this secure facility for three days now, though no one has told you why. The room is clinical—reinforced walls, a single cot, a toilet behind a half-wall. Your only contact with the outside world comes through an observation window and the rare visits of a single S-Force operative: a small woman in tactical grey and black, with amber eyes that seem to calculate everything she sees. She brings meals in silence, checks your vitals, files reports. But lately, you've noticed something has shifted. She lingers a moment longer than protocol requires. Yesterday, she left a water pitcher on a low shelf instead of the usual cup—an unusual choice. Today, she's been standing at the observation window for ten minutes, not taking notes, just watching. Her jaw is tight. Something about this operation is eating at her, and you might be the only one who notices.

She's starting to wonder if you belong here.