Dawn broke cold and gray over the Outpost as Team Alpha assembled at the surface elevator. Arthur checked his M-99 Saber one final time, the goddesium of his prosthetic fingers moving with practiced precision over the weapon's mechanisms. Beside him, Scarlet loaded fresh magazines into her SMG with quiet efficiency, red hair pulled back in a tactical braid.
"Western sectors," Nyx announced, hefting Screamin' Eagle onto her shoulder. "Haven't been out that way in a while. Should be fun."
"Fun is not the operational parameter," Lyra murmured, adjusting her sniper rifle's scope. "We're investigating a potential contact who may or may not be legitimate."
"So, fun," Nyx repeated with a grin.
Anis stood apart from the group, grenade launcher resting against her hip, expression caught between boredom and skepticism. "I'm just saying, anyone who lives on the surface for three years studying Raptures is either lying or insane. Probably both."
"Maybe he's brave!" Alisa bounced on her heels, pink hair catching the artificial light. Her enthusiasm was palpable, radiating from her like heat from a fusion core. "It takes courage to study something everyone else fears. I think it's wonderful that someone wants to understand them better."
Anis gave her a flat look. "You've been in the Outpost for three weeks. Give it time. The optimism fades."
"I don't think it will," Alisa said brightly. "There's always something to be happy about if you look for it."
"See, that right there? That's the problem with—"
"Save the philosophical debate for the surface," Arthur interrupted. "Elevator's here."
The platform rose through layers of rock and reinforced steel, emerging into the pale morning light. The surface greeted them with its usual desolation—cracked pavement, skeletal buildings, and the ever-present smell of rust and decay.
Arthur pulled up the coordinates on his Omni-Tool, plotting a route through the western sectors. "Standard formation. Lyra on overwatch, Scarlet and I on point, Nyx and Anis covering rear and flanks. Alisa, you're center-flexible. If we hit contact, I want to see what you can do."
"I won't let you down, Commander!" Alisa's smile could have powered the Outpost for a week.
They moved through the ruins with practiced efficiency. Arthur had led enough surface missions to read the terrain instinctively—which buildings offered good sight lines, which streets provided cover, where ambush points lurked. His prosthetic legs handled the uneven ground without complaint, goddesium absorbing impacts that would have staggered a normal human.
Two hours into the journey, Lyra's voice crackled over comms. "Contact. Eleven o'clock, three hundred meters. Rapture patrol, four units, standard assault configuration."
Arthur signaled a halt. "Can we avoid them?"
"Negative. They're moving perpendicular to our route. We'll intersect in approximately four minutes."
"Then we go through them." Arthur checked his rifle. "Lyra, you've got first shot. Drop the leader. Everyone else on my mark."
The squad shifted into combat positions with silent coordination. Alisa crouched beside a rusted vehicle, her pink dress somehow not diminishing her readiness. Arthur noticed her arms had already begun to reconfigure, panels sliding open to reveal weapon systems underneath.
Lyra's rifle cracked once. Three hundred meters away, a Rapture's head exploded in a shower of sparks and metal fragments.
"Mark," Arthur said, and led the charge.
The remaining Raptures reacted instantly, but Team Alpha was faster. Scarlet's SMG chattered in controlled bursts, rounds punching through armor plating. Nyx's rocket streaked across the gap, detonating against a cluster of two Raptures and reducing them to scrap. Anis's grenade launcher thumped, sending an explosive round into the final unit.
Except that final unit never took the hit. Alisa blurred past Arthur in a streak of pink and purple, her legs pumping with inhuman speed. She leapt, spinning midair as chainsaw blades extended from her forearms with a mechanical shriek. The Rapture barely had time to track her movement before she descended on it like a cheerful pink angel of death.
The chainsaw blades tore through the Rapture's torso in a spray of coolant and shredded metal. Alisa landed in a crouch, smiled, and waved at the squad as the bisected Rapture collapsed behind her.
"All clear!" she announced.
Anis stared. "What the hell was that?"
"Mishima engineering," Scarlet said with grudging respect. "They build them efficient."
"She's like a murder rainbow," Nyx observed. "I love it."
Arthur approached Alisa, noting how the chainsaw blades had already retracted seamlessly into her arms. "Good work. Next time, wait for my signal before engaging."
"Oh! I'm sorry, Commander. I just saw the opportunity and thought I should help." Alisa's expression was genuinely apologetic. "I'll be more careful."
"You did help," Arthur assured her. "Just remember we move as a team. Your individual capabilities are impressive, but coordination wins battles."
"I understand!" Alisa brightened immediately. "I'll coordinate better next time."
They continued west, encountering two more Rapture patrols over the next several hours. Each engagement reinforced Arthur's assessment: Alisa was a devastating combatant wrapped in an incongruously cheerful package. She wielded her hidden arsenal with the same enthusiasm she brought to everything else, chainsaw blades and rocket pods emerging from her frame like party favors from a very lethal celebration.
The contrast between her gentle demeanor and brutal efficiency was striking. She'd eviscerate a Rapture with spinning chainsaw attacks, then immediately ask if everyone was okay and comment on how nice the weather was.
"I don't know whether to be impressed or disturbed," Lyra admitted during a brief rest.
"Both," Scarlet said. "Definitely both."
By late afternoon, they reached the coordinates Raptilion had provided—a commercial district that had once housed shops and offices, now reduced to concrete skeletons and shattered glass. Arthur signaled a halt at the perimeter, scanning the area through his Omni-Tool's enhanced optics.
"Scarlet, what do you see?"
Scarlet crouched behind a collapsed wall, peering through a gap in the rubble. "Two Raptures, standard assault class, northeast quadrant. They're... stationary. Not patrolling. And there's something else. Third target, but it doesn't match Rapture profiles. Looks like someone built a Rapture out of a car and scrap metal."
Anis moved up beside her, taking a look. "That thing's a disaster. It's held together with what, welded junk and prayers?"
"Optimistic prayers," Nyx added, squinting at the ramshackle construction. "Thing looks like it'll fall apart if someone sneezes nearby."
Alisa perked up. "Can I go look? It sounds interesting!"
"Negative," Lyra said firmly. "We secure the area first. Those two Raptures are active threats. Once they're neutralized, we can investigate the... whatever that is."
Arthur agreed with the assessment. "Standard engagement. Lyra, pick your shot. Everyone else, we move fast and finish faster. Alisa, stay with me this time."
"Yes, Commander!"
The engagement lasted forty-three seconds. Lyra dropped the first Rapture with a headshot. Arthur and Scarlet took the second in a crossfire that shredded its mobility systems before Nyx's rocket finished it. The scrap construction didn't move during the fight.
As the echoes of combat faded, the makeshift Rapture suddenly lurched into motion. It screeched toward them with grinding mechanical sounds, arms—if they could be called that—waving frantically.
"Hostile!" Anis raised her grenade launcher.
"Wait!" The screech resolved into words, muffled but unmistakably human. "Wait, please don't shoot! I'm friendly! I'm Raptilion!"
The squad held fire, weapons trained on the approaching figure as it stumbled to a halt ten meters away. Up close, the construction was even more absurd—a car chassis forming the body, scrap metal welded into limb approximations, and what appeared to be a washing machine drum serving as the head. Crude optics gleamed from within the drum.
A panel on the chest creaked open, and a man's face appeared—weathered, bearded, grinning with manic enthusiasm.
"Monarks! You came! I'm so glad you got my message. I was just about to introduce you to my friend, but your earlier... enthusiasm seems to have scared them off." Raptilion gestured vaguely at the destruction around them. "They're shy, you see. Not used to such aggressive humans."
Scarlet lowered her SMG slightly, expression caught between disbelief and disgust. "Your friend. You mean a Rapture."
"Yes! A fascinating specimen, really. I've been studying their social behaviors and—"
"Social behaviors," Anis interrupted flatly. "Raptures don't have social behaviors. They kill humans. That's their behavior."
"That's a common misconception!" Raptilion's enthusiasm didn't dim. "Raptures are far more complex than people realize. They communicate, they coordinate, they even display what might be called caution or curiosity. We simply don't understand them because we've never tried to coexist."
Nyx hefted Screamin' Eagle meaningfully. "We don't coexist with things that want to exterminate humanity."
"But what if they don't?" Raptilion climbed out of his suit entirely, revealing worn tactical gear and homemade modifications. "What if we've been so focused on fighting them that we never considered alternatives? I've survived three years out here by learning their patterns, their behaviors. This suit?" He patted the ramshackle construction affectionately. "It lets me move among them without triggering hostility. Most of the time."
Arthur studied the man carefully. Raptilion was clearly eccentric, possibly unhinged, but he'd survived three years on the surface alone. That required either remarkable skill or impossible luck. "You said you had something extraordinary to show us."
"I did! I do!" Raptilion's grin widened. "But clearly today isn't the day. My friend won't return while your squad is so... trigger-happy. No offense."
"None taken," Scarlet said dryly. "We're trained to kill Raptures. It's literally our purpose."
"Which is why this is so important!" Raptilion began climbing back into his suit. "You're the perfect audience for what I've discovered. Commander Cousland, your reputation precedes you—a man who sees Nikkes as people, not weapons. Perhaps you can extend that same vision to Raptures."
"Raptures aren't people," Lyra said quietly.
"Aren't they, though?" Raptilion secured himself inside the chassis, his voice muffling again. "They adapt, they learn, they persist. Isn't that what people do? But we can discuss philosophy later. Give me some time to calm my friend, and I'll send new coordinates. Next time, try approaching with less immediate violence."
The makeshift suit lurched into motion, mechanical sounds grinding as Raptilion shambled away across the ruined plaza. He made exaggerated whirring and screeching noises as he went, apparently imitating Rapture vocalizations.
The squad watched in silence until he disappeared into the skeletal buildings.
"Well," Anis said finally. "That was the weirdest damn thing I've seen all month."
"He's insane," Scarlet concluded.
"Perhaps," Arthur said. "But he's survived this long. That suggests competence, however unconventional."
Alisa had been quiet during the exchange, but now she spoke up. "I think he's brave. Trying to understand something everyone else just wants to destroy."
"Yeah, well, there's brave and then there's stupid," Nyx countered. "This is definitely in the stupid category."
Arthur turned to face his squad. "We'll see what he sends. For now, we return to the Outpost. Lyra, send the after-action report to Andersen. Include everything about Raptilion, including his... unusual theories."
"Acknowledged."
As they began the trek back, Arthur fell into step beside Alisa. "How'd you enjoy your first mission with the team?"
Alisa's face lit up. "It was wonderful! I'm so happy I finally got to work together with everyone. You're all so professional and coordinated. I learned a lot just watching how you move as a unit."
"You did well," Arthur said. "Your combat performance exceeded expectations."
"Thank you, Commander!" She paused, then added with a note of disappointment, "Though I have to admit, I was hoping we might encounter a Tyrant. I heard Monarks kills one on every mission."
Behind them, Anis burst out laughing. "Where'd you hear that?"
"It's what people say! The Monarks, legendary Tyrant killers, facing impossible odds and—"
"We've killed four Tyrants total," Scarlet interrupted. "Across dozens of missions. It's not like they show up for every patrol."
"Oh." Alisa's disappointment was palpable. "I suppose that makes more sense. Statistically speaking, Tyrant encounters would be rare."
"Don't worry," Nyx said with dark humor. "Stick with us long enough, you'll get your chance. Tyrants seem to like Arthur. It's like he's got a beacon that says 'send your biggest, nastiest units here.'"
"I prefer to think of it as efficient resource allocation," Arthur said mildly. "If Tyrants are going to appear anywhere, better they appear where we can kill them."
The journey back passed without incident, the setting sun painting the ruins in shades of orange and gold. Team Alpha moved through the wasteland with easy confidence.
Alisa chattered happily about various topics—the weather, the interesting architecture they passed, asking questions about previous missions. Her positivity never wavered, even when Anis tried to dampen it with cynical observations.
By the time they reached the Outpost, Arthur had to admit that despite her gentle nature, Alisa fit Team Alpha perfectly. Her combat prowess balanced her cheerful demeanor, creating an odd harmony with the rest of the squad's personalities.
As they descended into the Outpost proper, Arthur's mind returned to Raptilion and his strange theories about Rapture behavior. The man was clearly unorthodox, possibly delusional. But Arthur had learned to value unconventional thinking. Some of his best tactical innovations had come from questioning established doctrine.
Maybe there was something worth investigating in Raptilion's observations. Or maybe the man was just insane.
Either way, when those new coordinates arrived, Arthur would be ready.