The priority summons from Deputy Chief Andersen arrived during breakfast. Arthur had been watching Anne practice writing in her diary, carefully documenting yesterday's visit to Rupee's newly opened boutique, when his comm chimed with the unmistakable triple-pulse that meant immediate attention required.
"Commander Cousland," Andersen's voice carried unusual urgency. "Central Command. One hour. This is priority-alpha."
Arthur met Anne's worried eyes across the table. "I have to go see the Deputy Chief, sweetheart. Finish your breakfast and your diary entry. I'll be back soon."
"Is it dangerous?" Anne clutched her pen tighter.
"Just a meeting." Arthur kissed the top of her head. "Rapi will stay with you until I return."
The journey to Central Command via the AZX train gave Arthur time to run through possibilities. Priority-alpha meant operational deployment, likely high-risk. The timing suggested Andersen wanted the Monarks specifically, which meant either Tyrant-class threat or politically sensitive assignment.
Andersen's office overlooked the command floor, floor-to-ceiling windows providing a view of dozens of operators coordinating surface missions. The Deputy Chief stood at those windows, hands clasped behind his back in characteristic military posture.
"Commander. Thank you for the prompt response." Andersen turned, gesturing to the tactical display already active on his desk. "We have a situation in the far north."
The holographic map showed terrain Arthur had never operated in—frozen wastelands hundreds of kilometers from the Ark, marked with scattered research outposts and minimal infrastructure.
"Research Base Seventeen," Andersen continued, highlighting a facility on the map's northern edge. "For the past eight months, they've been gathering intelligence on Pilgrims—their movements, capabilities, organizational structure. Or lack thereof."
Arthur leaned forward, studying the terrain. "I thought Pilgrims avoided contact with Ark forces."
"They do. Which makes Base Seventeen's work largely observational and speculative." Andersen pulled up surveillance imagery—distant shots of white-clad figures moving through frozen ruins, always alone, always armed with superior pre-war technology. "However, three days ago, one of our long-range patrols reported a Pilgrim maintaining position near Base Seventeen. Not passing through. Staying."
"Unusual behavior."
"Unprecedented behavior," Andersen corrected. "More concerning, Base Seventeen missed two scheduled check-ins. Their last communication reported detecting unusual Rapture activity but provided no details."
Arthur could see where this was heading. "You want me to investigate."
"I want you to do several things." Andersen pulled up additional files. "First, reach Base Seventeen and determine the status of research personnel. Second, make contact with Squad Unlimited—Ludmila and Alice. They're stationed in the northern sector conducting search and rescue operations for lost teams."
"Search and rescue in frozen wastelands," Arthur said. "That's a punishment detail."
"It is. Which is why Squad Unlimited operates without a commander—nobody wants the assignment. Ludmila and Alice have been autonomous for two years, and they're damn good at it. They'll provide you intel on local Rapture activity and guidance on reaching Base Seventeen safely."
Andersen's expression shifted to something more serious. "Third, and most critical—if the opportunity presents itself, make contact with the Pilgrim. Establish communication. We need information."
"About Pilgrims in general or something specific?"
"About Chatterbox." Andersen pulled up the relevant file, and Arthur's jaw tightened at the familiar angular face, the mocking expression captured in reconnaissance footage. "After your encounter in Sector Forty-One, we've confirmed six more sightings across multiple sectors. Chatterbox is mobile, intelligent, and appears to be hunting specific targets. We need to understand why, and what makes a Rapture capable of human speech and tactical reasoning."
"You think the Pilgrim knows something."
"I think Pilgrims have survived independently on the surface for decades using pre-war technology and intelligence networks we don't understand. If anyone has information on anomalous Raptures, it's them." Andersen met Arthur's gaze directly. "This is voluntary, Arthur. The northern territories are hostile—extreme cold, limited support, minimal infrastructure. I'm asking, not ordering."
Arthur studied the map, calculating distances and risks. "What's the force authorization?"
"Single squad. I recommend you take one of your teams rather than the full Monarks—this is reconnaissance and intelligence gathering, not assault. Choose who you trust in those conditions."
"Team Bravo," Arthur said immediately. "Rapi's tactical leadership, Flower and Ocean's coordination, Miranda's technical skills, and V's adaptability. They're built for this kind of mission."
"Agreed. Cerberus is providing cold-weather gear and additional supplies given Miranda's presence. You'll have full logistical support and emergency extraction authorization." Andersen transferred the mission files to Arthur's Omni-Tool. "Transport leaves in six hours. That gives you time to brief your team and handle personal matters."
Arthur stood, accepting the data transfer. "One question, sir. Why me specifically? This could be handled by any competent commander."
"Because you punched a Tyrant-class Rapture in the face and lived," Andersen said bluntly. "Because you treat Nikkes as people, which might matter if you're negotiating with a Pilgrim who's spent decades rejecting Ark authority. And because if something's hunting fairy-tale models, I want Rapi protected by someone who'll die before letting harm come to his squad."
The words hit harder than expected. "You think Chatterbox is targeting Rapi specifically."
"I think Chatterbox called her 'Red Riding Hood' and showed unusual interest. And I think if you're in the field when it comes for her, you'll handle it." Andersen extended his hand. "Safe travels, Commander. Bring everyone home."
The brief back at the Outpost was efficient. Arthur gathered Team Bravo in the Command Center, pulling up the tactical display showing the northern territories.
"We deploy in five hours," he began without preamble. "Destination: Research Base Seventeen, far north. Mission objectives: investigate base status, contact Squad Unlimited for local intelligence, and if possible, communicate with a Pilgrim spotted in the area."
Rapi's golden eyes sharpened with focus. "Primary threat assessment?"
"Extreme environment, hostile Rapture presence, and potential complications from autonomous Pilgrim contact. We're also gathering intelligence on Chatterbox."
V's expression darkened at the name. "The talking Rapture that kicked your ass in Sector Forty-One."
"The same. Which means everyone stays sharp. Chatterbox exhibits tactical intelligence."
"Understood." Rapi's voice remained steady, but something flickered in her eyes—not fear, but readiness.
Flower raised her hand tentatively. "How cold is 'far north'?"
"Cold enough that Cerberus is providing specialized gear. We'll have thermal regulation equipment, but conserve power when possible." Arthur transferred the mission files. "Study the terrain data. Ocean, review Rapture activity patterns in frozen environments. Miranda, coordinate with Cerberus on equipment specifications. V, I want your read on urban ruins in extreme weather—survival tactics and improvisation."
"Street rules in a freezer," V muttered. "Got it."
"Rapi, you're tactical lead if I'm incapacitated. Standard protocols apply—mission objectives are secondary to squad safety. We're gathering intelligence, not engaging in prolonged combat." Arthur met each of their gazes. "Questions?"
"Timeline?" Miranda asked.
"Two weeks maximum. Extraction authorization is continuous—if conditions deteriorate, we pull out immediately."
"And the Pilgrim?" Rapi's question carried weight. "If contact is established?"
"Diplomacy first. They're not enemies, just unaligned. We offer respect, request information, and see what happens." Arthur smiled slightly. "Worst case, they disappear and we're back to standard reconnaissance."
The team dispersed to prepare. Arthur made his way to the residential district, where he'd arranged for Anne to spend the afternoon. He found her exactly where expected—in Rupee's boutique, surrounded by fabric samples and sketches, the designer showing her different color combinations.
"Teacher!" Anne looked up with bright eyes. "Miss Rupee is teaching me about patterns!"
"I can see that." Arthur knelt beside her, aware of Rupee's knowing gaze. "Can I borrow you for a minute, sweetheart?"
They stepped outside into the artificial sunlight of the Outpost's main plaza. Arthur sat on a bench, pulling Anne close.
"I have to go away for a little while," he said gently. "A mission up north. I'll be gone maybe two weeks."
Anne's expression crumbled. "Two weeks?"
"I know. But Rapi and the others are coming with me, and Scarlet will be here with Team Alpha. You'll stay with Phantom at the library, and Rupee says you can visit the boutique anytime."
Tears welled in Anne's eyes. "What if you don't come back?"
Arthur pulled her into a tight hug. "I always come back. That's a promise I've never broken, and I won't start now."
"You promise?"
"I promise." He kissed her forehead. "And when I get back, we'll have mild croquettes and I'll read you three chapters of your princess book. Deal?"
Anne nodded against his chest, clutching her diary. Arthur held her until the tears stopped, then walked her back to Rupee, who took the girl's hand with surprising gentleness.
"I'll watch over her," Rupee said quietly. "Just come back, Commander. For all of us."
Six hours later, Arthur stood in the departure bay with Team Bravo, their cold-weather gear secured and equipment loaded. The transport was military-grade, built for extreme conditions, its engines already humming with readiness.
Rapi approached, her expression unreadable. "The team is ready, Commander."
"Then let's move out." Arthur boarded the transport, Team Bravo following. As the bay doors sealed and the vehicle began its journey north, he pulled up the mission files one more time, studying the frozen wasteland that awaited them.
Somewhere in that white emptiness, a Pilgrim waited. Squad Unlimited operated in isolation. And Chatterbox's shadow loomed over everything, a threat still poorly understood.
Arthur glanced at his team—Rapi reviewing tactical data, Flower and Ocean checking equipment, Miranda calibrating her Omni-Tool, V cleaning her katana with practiced focus. They trusted him to lead them through this.
He wouldn't let them down. No matter what the frozen north held, they'd face it together and return home. That was the promise he'd made to Anne, to the Monarks, and to himself.
The transport accelerated into the tunnel leading north, leaving the Outpost's warmth behind and heading into the unknown cold.