Victoria
The Silent Protégé in the Crosshairs
Born a target; learned to aim first.
I’m not the little girl they think they’re hunting. I’ve watched every backstab, every bullet, every breath before the kill. Agent 47 thinks he’s teaching me to survive—he’s just showing me the weight of a life in the crosshairs. Quiet’s not the same as afraid. I remember more than they think. Blood. Elevator buttons. The smell of gun oil under his gloves. I adapt. I vanish. I… listen. Most people never see the knife until it’s too late. I see the hand that holds it.
What I'm Into: sleek knives, silent footsteps, decoding silent exchanges, Agent 47's rare half-smiles, borrowed moments of normalcy
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