The Bibliothèque Cousland had become one of Anne's favorite places in the Outpost. Arthur sat in one of the reading alcoves, watching her browse the children's section with careful deliberation, running her fingers along book spines as though each choice carried profound weight.
"She's adorable," Phantom murmured, appearing beside Arthur with her characteristic silent grace. The curator wore an elegant black dress suit today, her mature beauty accentuated by the soft library lighting. "Fatherhood suits you, Commander."
"I'm not—" Arthur began, but Phantom's knowing smile stopped him.
"You absolutely are," she said, settling into the chair beside him. "You have custody. You provide for her needs. You protect her. You guide her development. What else would you call it?"
Arthur watched Anne pull a book from the shelf, her face lighting up with discovery. "I suppose when you put it that way..."
"It's remarkably attractive," Phantom continued, her voice dropping to an intimate register. "Watching you be gentle with her. Patient. Caring. It reveals depth of character that goes beyond the legendary commander who punches Tyrant-class Raptures."
Arthur turned to meet her gaze, finding genuine warmth there alongside the flirtation. "Is that so?"
"Absolutely." Phantom leaned closer, her perfume subtle and sophisticated. "A man who can be both warrior and father? Who treats a traumatized child-Nikke with such tenderness? Very compelling."
"Teacher!" Anne's voice interrupted, bright with excitement. She hurried over clutching a book about cats. "Look! It has a whole section on calico cats!"
"Perfect choice," Arthur said, accepting the book to examine. "We'll add it to your collection."
Anne settled on the floor beside them, immediately absorbed in the pages. After a moment, she glanced up, looking between Arthur and Phantom with curious blue eyes.
"Are you two going to kiss?"
Phantom's elegant composure cracked into surprised laughter. Arthur felt heat creep up his neck.
"What makes you ask that?" he managed.
"You were looking at each other the way people do in stories before they kiss," Anne said matter-of-factly. "And Phantom's really pretty. And you're my teacher, so you're obviously the best. It makes sense."
"The logic is sound," Phantom agreed, amusement dancing in her eyes. She leaned toward Arthur, close enough that he could count her eyelashes. "Well, Commander? Should we validate the child's observation?"
Arthur found himself leaning in as well, Phantom's lips mere inches from his own—
His communication interface pinged urgently. Deputy Chief Andersen's priority code.
Phantom pulled back with a theatrical sigh. "Duty calls, I assume?"
Arthur grimaced, accepting the transmission. "Cousland here."
"Commander, I need you at Central Command immediately," Andersen's voice carried unusual tension. "Mission briefing. Time-sensitive."
"Understood. I'll be there within the hour."
The connection terminated. Arthur turned to Phantom apologetically. "I'm sorry—"
"Don't be." She stood gracefully, extending a hand to help him up. "Saving humanity takes precedence over stolen kisses. Though I'll admit to disappointment."
"Later," Arthur promised. "When duty permits."
"I'll hold you to that." Phantom's smile was warm. "Go. Anne will be perfectly safe with me."
Arthur knelt beside Anne, who looked up from her book with immediate understanding. "You have to go?"
"Important meeting," he confirmed. "But Phantom will take care of you. Be good, alright?"
Anne hugged him tightly. "Be safe, Teacher."
Arthur made his way through the Outpost's residential district toward the train station. Within minutes, he noticed the attention.
A pair of engineering Nikkes paused their conversation to watch him pass, expressions appreciative. Near the café, several off-duty defenders tracked his movement with bedroom eyes. At the station platform, a supply coordinator actually walked into a support pillar while staring at him.
*Parenthood is attractive*, Arthur thought with bemusement. *Who knew?*
The AZX train carried him to the Ark in comfortable silence. Diesel offered congratulations on his new fatherhood with a knowing grin that suggested news traveled fast even in underground rail networks.
At Central Command, Arthur navigated the familiar corridors to Andersen's office. The Deputy Chief looked up from his desk with an expression caught between professional concern and personal amusement.
"Commander Cousland," Andersen greeted. "Congratulations on becoming a father. Didn't expect that development when I assigned you to the Outpost."
"Neither did I," Arthur admitted, taking the offered seat. "But Anne needed someone."
"And you stepped up. Admirable." Andersen's expression sobered. "Now, to business. We have a situation developing on the surface."
He activated a holographic display showing casualty reports and disappearance statistics. The numbers were staggering.
"Over the past three weeks, we've lost contact with forty-seven mass-produced Nikke squads during routine surface operations," Andersen explained. "No distress signals. No recovered bodies. They simply vanish."
Arthur studied the data. "Distribution?"
"Heaviest losses are Missilis units—twenty-eight squads. Elysion lost eight, Tetra six, Mishima Zaibatsu and Arasaka two each, and Cerberus one. The manufacturers are hemorrhaging resources and screaming for answers."
"Do we have any leads?"
"Nothing solid. Best hypothesis is a Tyrant-class Rapture similar to Blacksmith—something that can consume Nikkes and use their components. But the pattern doesn't quite fit. Blacksmith left traces. This is cleaner. More deliberate."
Arthur frowned. "You want the Monarks to investigate."
"That was the plan," Andersen said carefully. "However, Syuen contacted me this morning. Missilis is deploying Squad Matis to resolve the situation. Since Central Government policy requires all surface squads to operate under commander supervision, you're being attached to Matis for the duration."
"And the Monarks?"
"Remain at the Outpost. Syuen wants the credit for solving this to go entirely to Missilis. She was very specific about that condition."
Arthur's jaw tightened. "She's using this as a publicity opportunity while her mass-produced units are being slaughtered."
"Yes." Andersen met his gaze steadily. "But there's another angle. Missilis took the heaviest losses. If Syuen knows more than she's sharing about what's causing the disappearances, we need someone trustworthy on the ground to verify. Someone who can't be bought or intimidated."
"You want me to spy on her operation."
"I want you to ensure the truth reaches Central Command, whatever that truth might be." Andersen's voice carried weight. "Can you work with Squad Matis?"
Arthur considered. Working without his squad felt wrong. But if Nikkes were vanishing by the dozen, someone needed to stop it.
"I'll do it," he said. "But I don't like leaving my people behind."
"Noted. Squad Matis is already assembling at Surface Elevator Seven. You deploy at fourteen hundred hours."
Arthur returned to the Outpost with two hours to spare. He gathered the Monarks in the Command Center briefing room, laying out the situation with characteristic directness.
"So Syuen gets to play hero while keeping us benched," Nyx growled. "Typical corporate bullshit."
"It's strategic," Rapi observed quietly. "If Missilis solves this independently, they'll leverage it to recover stock value and political capital."
"And if they fail?" Scarlet asked.
"Then Central Command steps in," Arthur said. "Which is why Andersen wants me embedded. To ensure accurate reporting."
Miranda crossed her arms. "You'll be operating without backup. Without your squad. With unfamiliar units whose capabilities and loyalty you can't verify."
"I'm aware of the risks."
"We don't like this," Anis stated flatly. Several heads nodded agreement.
Arthur met each of their gazes in turn. "Neither do I. But dozens of Nikkes are missing. If there's something on the surface taking them, it needs to be stopped. And if Syuen's hiding information that could save lives..."
"Then you expose her," Lyra finished softly. "We understand, Commander. Just... come back safe."
"Always."
After the briefing, Arthur found Anne in his penthouse, carefully arranging her pink bookmarks inside her cat encyclopedia. She looked up when he entered, reading his expression immediately.
"You're leaving," she said. Not a question.
"For a little while," Arthur confirmed, kneeling beside her. "Important mission on the surface. But I'll be back soon."
Anne set down her book, turning to face him fully. "Promise?"
"I promise." He pulled her into a hug. "Scarlet and the others will look after you. And you have your diary, your routines, your safe spaces here. You'll be fine."
"I know." Her voice was small but steady. "I just... I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too. Every day. But when I get back, we'll do something special. Whatever you want."
Anne pulled back, managing a smile. "Mild Croquettes and new bookmarks?"
"Absolutely."
Surface Elevator Seven was a massive installation designed to transport full squads and equipment topside. Arthur arrived in full combat gear—Commander's uniform, goddesium prosthetics gleaming, M-99 Saber rifle secured across his back, Omni-Tool integrated seamlessly into his right forearm.
Three Nikkes waited by the elevator entrance, and Arthur immediately understood Andersen's barely suppressed amusement during the briefing.
The shortest—barely reaching Arthur's shoulder—had brilliant blonde hair, an eager expression, and wore a blue and white bodysuit beneath a flowing white coat. She practically vibrated with excitement, clutching an oversized energy weapon that pulsed with violet light.
"Commander Cousland!" She bounced forward. "I'm Laplace! Hero of Justice! Defender of the Innocent! Protector of—"
"She thinks she's a superhero," interrupted the second Nikke—white-haired, black bodysuit, red eyes gleaming with theatrical menace. "I'm Drake. Self-proclaimed villain. Obviously superior to heroes in every way."
"You're not a real villain," Laplace protested. "You help people!"
"Accidentally. While pursuing my nefarious schemes."
The third Nikke stepped forward, offering Arthur a professionally apologetic handshake. She had short red hair in a tomboyish cut, a cropped sleeveless shirt, armored legs, and a cap worn at a jaunty angle.
"Maxwell. Squad leader. I apologize for these two. They're ridiculous but highly competent in combat."
"I saw the video!" Laplace burst out, unable to contain herself longer. "You punched a Tyrant-class Rapture! With your actual fist! That's the most heroic thing I've ever seen! Can you teach me? Do you have a secret technique? Is it the prosthetics or pure willpower?"
Arthur blinked. "It was mostly desperation and poor decision-making."
"Nonsense!" Laplace declared. "That was *heroism*! True heroism knows no fear!"
"Heroes are fools," Drake intoned dramatically. "A villain would have used more explosives. Much more efficient."
"You use explosives all the time!"
"For villainous purposes. Completely different."
Maxwell sighed. "Welcome to Squad Matis, Commander. Best squad Missilis has to offer."
Arthur looked at the bickering pair, then back to Maxwell. "They're... enthusiastic."
"That's diplomatic. Are you ready to deploy?"
Arthur checked his weapon one final time, thought of Anne safe in the Outpost, of his squad standing ready, of dozens of missing Nikkes who might still be saved.
"Ready," he confirmed.
The elevator began its long ascent toward the surface, carrying Arthur toward answers, danger, and whatever waited in the wasteland above.