The transport's interior hummed with steady vibration as they carved through frozen tunnels leading north. Arthur sat near the cockpit, monitoring navigation data while Team Bravo settled into the journey ahead.
"So let me get this straight," V said, stretching her legs across the bench seat. "We're flying into a frozen hellscape to chat with someone who's spent decades avoiding exactly these kinds of conversations. That about sum it up?"
"Diplomatic outreach," Miranda corrected, her tone professionally amused. "There's a subtle difference."
"Yeah, the difference is whether they shoot at us immediately or after introductions." V cleaned under her fingernails with a knife. "Either way, someone's probably shooting."
Flower laughed softly. "You're very optimistic, V."
"Street rules. Expect the worst, be pleasantly surprised when it's only terrible." V glanced at Ocean. "What's your read?"
Ocean considered the question with her characteristic calm. "The cold will be challenging. Our thermal regulation systems are rated for extreme conditions, but extended exposure degrades efficiency."
"Practical as always," Miranda said. "Though I'm more concerned about Rapture adaptations to frozen environments. Cold-weather variants could exhibit different behavioral patterns."
Rapi hadn't spoken much since departure, her golden eyes fixed on the tactical display showing their route. Arthur noticed her unusual quietness.
"Rapi," he said. "Thoughts?"
She looked up, meeting his gaze. "The mission parameters are clear. We'll adapt to conditions as encountered." A pause. "I'm concerned about Chatterbox's interest in fairy-tale models."
"We all are," Flower said gently. "But we're together. That thing won't get near you."
"Damn right," V added. "Any Rapture wants Rapi, it goes through all of us first."
Arthur saw something shift in Rapi's expression—gratitude, perhaps, or the deepening bonds that transformed squads into families. Before he could respond, alarms shrieked through the cabin.
"Contact!" the pilot shouted. "Flying Raptures, multiple signatures!"
The transport lurched violently as something slammed into the hull. Arthur grabbed the nearest support rail. "Everyone secure! Combat ready!"
Another impact, harder this time. Through the viewport, Arthur glimpsed winged shapes circling like predatory birds, their mechanical forms adapted with grotesque bio-mechanical elements.
"We're losing altitude!" The pilot fought the controls. "Engines compromised, attempting emergency landing!"
The world became chaos—spinning, falling, the transport screaming through frozen air. Arthur's goddesium limbs locked onto support structures as the cabin tilted violently. Team Bravo secured themselves with practiced efficiency even as equipment broke loose and crashed around them.
Impact came like a hammer. The transport struck frozen ground, bounced, skidded across ice and snow. Metal shrieked. Then stillness, broken only by sparking electronics and hissing coolant.
Arthur's combat systems activated automatically. "Sound off!"
"Operational," Rapi responded immediately.
"Good here," Miranda called.
"Functional," Ocean said.
"Alive and pissed," V growled.
"I'm okay," Flower added shakily.
The pilot was dead, neck broken from impact. Arthur closed the man's eyes briefly before moving to the emergency hatch. "Weapons ready. They'll come to confirm the kill."
The hatch blew outward with explosive force. Arthur rolled into snow, M-99 Saber up and tracking. Team Bravo deployed around him in textbook formation, creating overlapping fields of fire.
The flying Raptures descended in a shrieking swarm—twelve contacts, their wings membrane-thin and lined with razor edges. Arthur's Omni-Tool tagged targets.
"Engage!"
The Saber kicked against his shoulder, its hypervelocity rounds punching through Rapture armor like tissue. One went down immediately, wing shredded. Rapi's precision fire took another from the sky. Ocean's rocket launcher erupted, the explosion scattering three more.
V moved like liquid violence, her Mantis Blades extending as one Rapture dove too close. She severed its wing in passing, spinning to fire her pistol into its core. Flower and Miranda worked in tandem, suppressing fire keeping the swarm disrupted while Ocean reloaded.
Arthur's prosthetic arm moved with mechanical precision, compensating for recoil and wind. The Saber performed beautifully—every shot found metal and circuitry. Within ninety seconds, twelve Raptures littered the snow, sparking and dying.
"Clear," Rapi announced, scanning the horizon. "No additional contacts."
"Good work." Arthur reloaded, his breath misting in the brutal cold. "Everyone check equipment. We're fifteen kilometers from Base Seventeen according to—"
Slow, mocking applause echoed across the frozen wasteland.
Arthur's blood turned colder than the wind. That sound. That impossible, wrong sound of Rapture hands clapping in human mockery.
"Well done, Commander Cousland." Chatterbox emerged from behind a ice formation, its angular face twisted in a smile. "You've saved me the trouble of tracking you down. How convenient."
Team Bravo snapped to formation around Arthur. Rapi moved forward, her assault rifle aimed at center mass.
"You," she said, her voice sharp with anger Arthur had never heard from her. "Explain what you know about the fairy-tale models. Why do you think I am one?"
Chatterbox's gaze fixed on Rapi with terrible interest. "Little Red Riding Hood. Even prettier when you're angry. But I'm not here for you today." Its eyes shifted to Arthur. "I'm here for *him*. The commander who humiliated me. Who dared fight a superior being with crude human weapons and lived."
"Superior being," V muttered. "Fuck, they really can develop egos."
"I've been waiting, Commander," Chatterbox continued, its body shifting as weapons emerged from its frame. "Waiting for the perfect moment to tear you apart. To show your precious Nikkes that their protector is just meat and metal. Fragile. Mortal. *Weak.*"
Arthur raised the Saber. "Team Bravo, combat pattern Delta. Suppress and eliminate."
They moved as one. Rapi and Flower flanked left, Miranda and Ocean right. V stayed close to Arthur, her katana ready. The frozen wasteland erupted with gunfire.
Chatterbox moved impossibly fast, its body regenerating damage almost as quickly as it occurred. But the Saber lived up to Cerberus's promises—each round punched deep, exploding inside the Rapture's core structure. Chatterbox screamed, staggered.
"It's working!" Miranda shouted. "Concentrated fire!
The team coordinated with lethal precision. Ocean's rocket caught Chatterbox mid-dodge, sending it sprawling. Rapi's follow-up shots tore into exposed circuitry. For a moment, Arthur thought they might actually end it here.
Then Chatterbox lunged directly at him, closing the distance with desperate speed. Its clawed hands reached for his throat.
Arthur activated his Omni-Blade, the orange energy projection extending from his right arm. He sidestepped the grapple and drove the blade into Chatterbox's torso, feeling resistance then penetration. The Rapture howled.
Movement beside him—V flowed into the opening, her katana flashing silver in the harsh light. She struck with precision learned in Outer Rim's streets, the blade finding the gap between armor plates. Chatterbox stumbled backward, sparks cascading from multiple wounds.
"You think you've won?" Chatterbox's voice distorted with damage. "You think this ends here?"
It turned, aimed something at the mountain slope above them.
"Everyone scatter—"
The explosion was massive, perfectly placed. The entire mountainside groaned. Then the snow began to move.
"AVALANCHE!" Ocean shouted.
Arthur ran, his prosthetic legs driving him forward with desperate speed. The roar behind him grew louder, a white wall of death consuming everything. He saw Chatterbox disappear into the cascade, saw his team running, saw—
Rapi. She'd turned back, was running toward him instead of away, her hand outstretched.
"Commander!"
Arthur reached for her, their fingers nearly touching across the shrinking distance. Her golden eyes locked with his, desperate and determined. Almost, almost—
The avalanche hit like the fist of an angry god. Arthur felt himself lifted, thrown, tumbled in crushing whiteness. His last conscious thought was Rapi's name before snow and darkness claimed him.
---
In the Ark, hundreds of kilometers south in warmth and safety, Rupee's studio lights blazed with professional intensity.
"Welcome, welcome, my beautiful Lupins!" Rupee struck a pose, her designer outfit perfectly coordinated. "To another fabulous episode of Shopaholics Anonymous! Today we have a *very* special guest who I definitely didn't have to blackmail—I mean, *invite*—and before she arrives, let me just say..." She leaned conspiratorially toward the camera. "My boss, Mustang? Yeah, he made me do inventory for three days straight because I 'accidentally' ordered five thousand units of sequined berets. So if you see me wearing one in every color this month, you know why. Support your girl, buy a beret."
The chat exploded with laughing emojis and beret orders.
"But enough about my extremely reasonable boss who I love and respect," Rupee continued smoothly. "Let's bring out today's guest—CEO of Elysion, the woman who makes other manufacturers cry into their quarterly reports—Ingrid!"
Ingrid entered the frame with her characteristic cold elegance, taking the seat beside Rupee with obvious reluctance. "Rupee. Your invitation was... difficult to refuse."
"That's because I'm charming," Rupee said brightly. "Now, today's shopping spree is dedicated to something near and dear to every woman's heart—lingerie and feminine undergarments!"
Ingrid's composure cracked slightly. "You didn't mention this would be the topic."
"Didn't I? How forgetful of me!" Rupee winked at the camera as the chat went wild. "Don't worry, we'll keep it classy. Mostly. Lupins, drop your questions in chat while I give our lovely guest a moment to collect herself!"
Rupee checked her tablet, scrolling through the flood of questions. One caught her eye, and she felt her heart skip.
*"RupeeFan42: Do you have a boyfriend?"*
The question hung in her mind. Images flashed—Arthur's smile, his kindness, the way he looked at her during their conversations. The kiss. They hadn't taken that step yet, hadn't defined what they were becoming. But she wanted it. Wanted him.
The silence stretched. Chat noticed.
"Well!" Rupee's voice came out slightly too loud. "That's a very personal question! But since you asked..." Her hands gestured expressively, nerves showing through her practiced persona. "I am, in fact, going steady with someone. Someone who's good-looking, calm, sweet, and rich. Very rich. Did I mention handsome? Because extremely handsome."
The chat exploded. Ingrid raised one perfect eyebrow.
Rupee powered through the rest of the stream on autopilot, her mind racing. What had she just done? What if Arthur saw this? What if he didn't feel the same way? What if she'd just made a complete fool of herself on a stream watched by thousands?
The moment cameras cut, Rupee grabbed her personal comm, fingers flying across the interface.
*"Arthur, we need to talk. It's important. Call me?"*
She waited. No response. Sent another message.
*"Okay, that sounded ominous. Nothing bad! Just... call when you can?"*
Still nothing. She checked his status—offline, no signal. The mission. He was on that northern mission, probably out of range.
Rupee stared at her comm, anxiety tightening in her chest. She'd just declared on a public stream that she had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who didn't know he was her boyfriend. Who might be watching the stream recording right now, if he had signal.
"Smooth, Rupee," she muttered to herself. "Really, really smooth."
All she could do was wait. Wait, and hope Arthur would understand. Hope he felt even a fraction of what she felt.
Hope he came back safe so she could explain. Or hide. Possibly both.