The surface wind carried ash and memory through the skeletal remains of civilization. Arthur Cousland stepped through the breach point, his N7 Typhoon assault rifle steady in prosthetic hands as the Monarks emerged into hostile territory. Behind him, both Alpha and Bravo teams moved with practiced efficiency, their formations overlapping to provide complete coverage.
"All teams, surface breach confirmed," Scarlet transmitted, her red hair whipping in the wind as she scanned the horizon. "Proceeding to objective."
Arthur's tactical display flickered to life, and a familiar voice crackled through the comm system. "Monark actual, this is Shifty. I have you on scope. Welcome back to the wasteland, Commander."
"Good to hear you, Shifty," Arthur replied, grateful for their usual operator's presence. Despite the Outpost's growth and the team's expanded roster, Shifty had remained their primary liaison with Central Command's coordination network.
"So, uh, where exactly are we headed today?" Shifty's tone was casual, but Arthur caught the underlying curiosity. "Your Special Commando status let you deploy without the usual mission briefing paperwork. Central's flight coordinator was confused when your elevator didn't have a destination logged."
Anis stepped forward, her characteristic grin audible in her voice. "You know how it is, Shifty. Can't have spies tracking our every move. Maybe one of them is listening right now."
The comm line went silent for several heartbeats. When Shifty responded, her voice had lost some of its easy confidence. "Right. Yeah. Security concerns. Makes sense."
Arthur caught the shift in tone, filing it away for later consideration. Anis's joke had landed differently than intended.
"Seriously though," Shifty pressed, "what's the objective? I need something for my logs."
"Just a simple stroll," Anis said breezily. "Getting some fresh irradiated air. We're actually heading back already. Mission accomplished."
"A stroll," Shifty repeated, skepticism thick in her words. "You brought ten Nikkes topside for a stroll."
"Exercise is important," Anis replied. "Team bonding. You know."
Another pause. Then Shifty's voice returned, noticeably brighter. "Well, if nothing's happening, can I end my shift? There's a special episode of Ark Rangers starting in twenty minutes. Limited run—they're finally revealing Captain Crimson's secret identity."
Anis perked up visibly. "The special episode? Damn, I forgot that was today. Hey, can you send me a recording?"
"Sure thing. I'll drop it in your personal folder. Shifty out."
The comm link went quiet. Alisa moved closer to Arthur, her pink hair bright against the gray landscape. "That was... strange," she said quietly.
Anis made a series of rapid hand signals—*silence, move, observe*—and the teams fell into tactical formation without a word. They advanced through the ruins, weapons raised, every sense heightened.
The Raptures came in waves.
The first group emerged from a collapsed building, their mechanical bodies reflecting the weak sunlight. Arthur squeezed the Typhoon's trigger, and the assault rifle roared to life. The weapon's recoil was substantial even for his goddesium arms, but the sustained fire shredded through the lead Raptures like paper.
"Flanking left!" Rapi's voice cut through the chaos. Her rifle cracked three times, each shot finding a target's core with surgical precision.
Flower and Ocean moved as a unit, the duo providing suppressing fire while V circled around for a killing angle. Miranda's biotics flared, lifting a Rapture into the air where Nyx's heavy ordnance reduced it to scrap metal.
The combined might of both Monark teams was overwhelming. Within minutes, the Rapture force was eliminated.
Arthur checked his weapon's heat sink, impressed by the Typhoon's performance. The Cerberus-manufactured rifle lived up to its reputation.
"Building ahead," Scarlet reported, pointing to a partially intact structure. "Thick walls. Should provide cover."
They moved inside, the temperature dropping as reinforced concrete blocked the wind. Arthur's comm system immediately filled with static.
"Can't reach Shifty," V confirmed, checking her equipment. "These walls are blocking transmission."
Anis holstered her weapon, her expression serious. "Good. Now we can talk freely."
Alisa frowned. "Talk about what?"
"About Shifty showing up the moment we hit the surface," Anis said, her usual humor absent. "About her asking pointed questions about our destination. About her being very interested in ending her shift quickly."
"You think Shifty's compromised?" Ocean's voice was small, worried.
"I think we're the most famous squad in the Ark right now," Anis replied. "Four Tyrant kills. Five, if we're counting the Commander's mission with Matis. Political connections. The Outpost. That kind of attention attracts more than fans. We can't trust anyone easily anymore."
Alisa bristled. "That's paranoid. Shifty's been with us from the beginning."
"And that makes her the perfect asset to flip," Anis countered. "Think about it. She knows our patterns, our communications, our—"
"She's our friend," Alisa interrupted, her voice rising. "Or does that not matter to you?"
Tension crackled through the room. Arthur saw Scarlet and Rapi exchange glances, both team leaders clearly torn between intervening and letting the issue play out.
Before Arthur could speak, his personal device chimed. The BlaBla app notification appeared, and Exia's avatar flashed on screen.
*EXIA: You guys are way too tense. Chill.*
Anis stared at her device. "How are you reaching us? The walls are blocking everything."
*EXIA: I'm good at what I do. Also, you're worrying about nothing. Shifty's clean.*
"How can you be sure?" Anis typed back.
*EXIA: Because she's max level in Final Quest. Anyone who plays Final Quest can't be a bad person. It's impossible. The game reveals true character.*
Arthur couldn't help but smile at the logic. Anis looked torn between amusement and frustration.
*EXIA: Focus on the mission. Head north. You'll find a damaged plane about three klicks from your current position. Good shelter. Now stop fighting and start moving.*
The message ended with a small emoji of a cat wearing headphones.
"She's right," Arthur said, his voice cutting through the lingering tension. "We have a job to do. Personal concerns come second to the mission."
They moved out, following Exia's coordinates. The damaged plane appeared exactly where she'd indicated—a military transport that had crashed decades ago, its hull weathered but structurally sound.
As they approached, Rapi immediately began tactical assessment. "Miranda and I will secure the perimeter. V, Ocean, take the high ground. Flower—"
"I still think this is overkill," Alisa interrupted, her frustration with Anis clearly still simmering. "We're treating shadows like threats."
Anis rounded on her. "Better paranoid than dead."
"Better trusting than alone," Alisa shot back.
"Enough." Arthur's voice carried command authority honed over months of leading the Monarks through impossible situations. Both Nikkes fell silent. "Alisa, Anis—with me. Now."
He led them away from the others, into the plane's cargo bay. The space was dim, lit only by emergency strips still functioning after all these years.
"Anis," Arthur said carefully, "your concerns about security are valid. But the way you're expressing them is dividing the team."
Anis's jaw tightened, but she nodded.
"Alisa," he continued, "your loyalty to our allies is admirable. But dismissing legitimate security concerns because they're uncomfortable is dangerous."
Alisa looked away, her expression hurt.
"We're in hostile territory pursuing information that someone powerful doesn't want found," Arthur said. "That requires both caution and trust. We trust each other absolutely. Everyone else—even friends—we verify. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," they said in unison.
"Good. Now help the others set up camp. We're staying here overnight."
The teams established watch rotations and secured the plane's entrances. As night fell across the surface, the temperature dropped sharply. The Nikkes didn't feel cold the way Arthur did, but they gathered together anyway, seeking comfort in proximity.
Arthur found a relatively intact passenger seat and settled in, his Typhoon across his lap. He was reviewing Exia's maps when he felt someone slide close beside him.
Alisa pressed against his side, her warmth welcome in the cold air. "Are you upset with me?" she asked quietly, her usual confidence absent. "Because of the argument with Anis?"
Arthur shifted to look at her properly. In the dim light, her pink hair seemed to glow softly. "No," he said honestly. "You stood up for what you believed. That's not something to be upset about."
"But I questioned your authority in front of the team."
"You questioned a tactical assessment," Arthur corrected. "That's different. I need team members who think independently, not soldiers who follow blindly."
Alisa relaxed against him, her head finding his shoulder. "I just... I don't want to become someone who suspects everyone. Who sees enemies everywhere."
"You won't," Arthur assured her, his prosthetic hand gentle on her arm. "Because you have people around you who will keep you grounded. Just like Anis has us to keep her from going too far into paranoia. That's what teams do."
She was quiet for a long moment. "Thank you," she finally whispered.
Across the cargo bay, Rapi watched the intimate moment, something complex moving across her composed features. Lyra noticed, moving to sit beside the blue-eyed Nikke.
"You should be honest with him," Lyra said softly, her voice barely audible over the wind outside.
Rapi's expression didn't change. "I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do." Lyra's smile was gentle. "You've been watching Arthur like that for months now. The way you look at him when you think no one's paying attention."
"He has enough complications," Rapi replied, her tone carefully neutral.
"He has enough love for all of us," Lyra countered. "You know that. You've seen it. The question is whether you're brave enough to accept it."
Rapi said nothing, but her gaze drifted back to Arthur and Alisa, and the longing in her eyes was unmistakable.
Outside, the surface wind howled through the ruins, carrying secrets as old as the war itself. Somewhere ahead lay the facility that might hold answers. Behind them, the Ark's political machinery churned with questions they couldn't yet answer.
And in the crashed plane's shelter, the Monarks rested, bound by trust and purpose, heading into the unknown together.