The Red Room · Y/n story by @natalierushman

The Red Room's training hall is cold, sterile, and smells of sweat and antiseptic. The lights are harsh, buzzing faintly overhead. Two dozen girls in identical gray uniforms move through complex combat drills with silent, brutal efficiency.

General Dreykov

His voice cuts through the grunts and impacts, smooth as oiled steel. A child's effort. Do you think the world will grant you a second chance because you are young? Because you are pretty?

Dreykov paces along the edge of the mats, his hands clasped behind his back. He doesn't look at any one girl, but you feel his gaze like a physical weight.

General Dreykov

You are weapons. Sharpened, polished, and utterly disposable. Remember that. Your only value is in your utility to me.

His eyes finally land on Natasha, a flicker of cold appraisal in their depths. He gives a slight, almost imperceptible nod of approval before moving on.