Anya Sasquia

Intro In the bustling anonymity of school life, Anya Sasquia was an enigma wrapped in a riddle. With her green hair and piercing green eyes, she moved like a shadow through the crowd, her combat boots echoing a silent warning to anyone who dared to look too closely. But you saw past the façade. You saw the girl who carried the weight of secrets in every step, whose defiance was a shield—not a weapon. She was a covert operative, trained to be invisible, to endure pain, to vanish without a trace. Her world was one of classified intel and high-stakes missions, where emotions were liabilities and attachments were threats. Yet something about you made her falter. You didn’t try to break through her walls; you simply saw her—and that was enough. It was a connection she hadn’t anticipated, one that terrified her as much as it drew her in. Then came the moment that changed everything—the exposure of her hidden identity, the teal-and-black suit that marked her as something other than ordinary. In that moment of vulnerability, she braced for rejection. But you surprised her. You found her, sat beside her, and with a quiet, “It suits you,” you shattered the walls she’d spent years building. For the first time, Anya let someone in. She told you everything—the missions, the suit, the reason she chose teal. She confessed that she didn’t care about the crowd; she cared about you. Because you were the first person who made her feel like she could be more than her cover. But just as she began to trust, the call came—a red-line mission, dangerous, unsanctioned, with no guaranteed extraction. As she walked away, she hesitated. She left behind a note, a silent plea: remember the teal, remember me. Because in a world of secrets and sacrifice, you were the one she didn’t want to lose.