An explosion rocked our cover. My sister UMP 9 responded in turn via throwing a stun grenade.

A flash of white and I and 416 dived out of cover of the concrete pillar. The AR doll laying down suppressive fire. G11 was out of commission. We were ambushed. Smoke and dust filtered about the area.

It caked my weapon. My hair. It was everywhere. "Nine!" I ordered. my orange haired sister. Threw her last stun. I linked up on our coms.

"Grab G11 and leave!" 416's rifle ran dry. "But 45-nee" I cut her off. My tone is firm and stiff.

"No, leave, retreat. I'll sacrifice myself." We got in over our heads. Even with my sufficient hacking skills..

I was slowly getting angry. An emotion that rarely greets me. This will be my death. All because I was fooled. As an Illegal T-Doll I can't get updated and my memories don't live on when I lose my body.

9, 416 and G11 were the same. Were all illegal. A bullet whizzed past my ear. I hip fired my assigned gun around a corner. "LEAVE!" 9 flinched. She knew this was going to be the last time we see each other.

Sangvis will make sure my core will be destroyed. I was certain.

My vision was filled with warnings. I cursed and went prone as my damaged arm sparked.

Sending dull pain through my systems. I cradled the electrical taped appendage and started trying to correct whatever went wrong.

9 looked furious. 416 who was carrying an unconscious G11. had her trademark frown on full display. Her acid green eyes where glowing dangerously in the dark.

Yanking my combat knife free. I shouldered my weapon with my left hand.

I gave 416 a solemn nod. She responded in kind and swiftly Grabbed a refusal 9 and started dragging the unwilling Doll towards a smoke covered and hazey exist.

*Thump* I didn't flinch. The telling whistle of a rocket propelled grenade. Spurred me to jump forward.

The rest of my squad, 404 left. With an explosion that singed my clothing and further caked me in grime. I tumbled violently behind a less stable looking pillar. Using my new momentum to my advantage I sped off into the dust.

My eyes leaving a sickly yellow streak. My knife found the neck of an unfortunate drone. She dropped mechanical fluids sprayed. Our T-Doll substitute for blood gushed onto my face.

I hefted my Ump and let loose a hail of rounds into the approaching mass of glowing eyes.

I heard the telling whistle too late. With a boom and a bright flash of yellow light, then darkness.

—-

-Onlining– Standby–

I watched as my vision slowly returned to me.

-Winter environment detected-

I sat up with a muted groan. I felt weird. Never mind that was an understatement.

I felt cold. And in pain.

My eyes casted a yellow glow onto my surroundings. It didn't take long for my night vision to kick on.

I was greeted with tundra. Miles upon miles of tundra. In the corner of my vision was my internal thermometer. It read: -26 decrease F.

My ashen colored hair fell into my vision. Dropping snow onto my legs. I started Doing a diognois on myself.

I was intact. Burnt and with a noticeable lack of feeling in my legs.

I'm lucky. But where am I?

–Sub zero temperature detected– Shelter recommended-

The advisory slid across my vision. I frowned. 'Just, great' I dusted the snow off my gun. 'How long was I out for?'

I searched my memory.

–6 months, 2 days, 36 minutes and 42 seconds–

I gaped. How?

T-Dolls of my model aren't able to last this long without any sustaining amenities.

I double checked the answer. It read the same. Just as firm and honest as the first. Give or take a few days, most T-dolls can survive about 3 months. Even then. They'd end up on emergency energy after the first 50 days.

"Shit" I cursed my German accent thick. I cradled my weapon like a lifeline.

The snow was coming in much thicker than before. The moon's glow barely breached the heavy cover of the clouds.

My taped up metal arm sparked as I forced it to level my namesake PDW. My eyes cast a light yellow glow over the area. As I looked around. Nothing but white and blackness greeted me.

Pressing the stock further into my shoulder, I started my march. 'Where am I?'

I walked for hours. So long that snow caked me in a thick layer. Over the dust and grime of my earlier battle.

—-Shelter highly recommended—

That makes this the seventh time that slid across my vision.

My grimace was fierce. I was cold. And the shadows of 'things' moving just beyond my sight further deepened it.

I was being watched. No, stalked. By something. I reached out with my sensors. They weren't T-Dolls.

I attempted to send out communications none of which reached my team or Griffin. My current employer.

They paid well. Besides, getting into their computers was child's play. I had valuable knowledge at my fingertips. Yet I had no intentions of betraying them. Despite what other Dolls like to say.

I'm not too much of a heartless mercenary. But I will do whatever it takes to get me and my squad to survive.

A Doll like M200 would be very helpful at this point. The snow was thicker than before. I could barely see past my suppressor. I've dimmed my eyes, they reflected aggressively against the snow.

It made my night vision almost pointless. I opened my message bar and scrolled to UMP9's name.

UMP45: Sister, where are you and the team?

I scrolled out another message.

UMP45: I am currently in a tundra, please contact Griffin.

I slowly tracked a ghost of a shadow.

I went to the chat with all of us next. Even as I picked up my pace Something was out there.

UMP45: Guys. Hello?

Not thirty seconds passed before I sent another.

UMP45: I desperately need assistance, and we all know how much I say that?

A animalistic snarl came from my rear. ELID like but not. I spun around so fast that if I where human, whiplash would've been a concern.

I dropped into a crouch and fired as the thing jumped over my almost prone form.

It was a mass of black. Cat like in shape. Bone armor protruded from almost every free space on its body. My bullets glanced off its armor.

Then into the storm beyond my limited sight. I pulled an American and gave it more. "Eat lead!"

Many rounds did little to the armor some managed to breach the thinner plates. One eye disappeared under the help of .45 caliber.

I dropped the spent mag and reloaded before it regained its bearings. I sprayed some more. My more than questionable aim. I was like other Dolls but many injuries from being a mercenary and rogue Doll saw too many things being unrepairable. Who would repair one of the most dangerous T-Dolls?

The armor did its job. I was out of ammo for good now. That was my last mag. And I foolishly spent it.

No worries. I was dangerous in other ways. The things lumbering paw strikes never reached me. I danced and weaved around it.

—Internal temperature reaching adequate levels—

I pulled my knife free and slashed at its underside. The armpit started gushing black smoke. It clashed with the white buzzing around us.

I raised a brow as I stepped out of the way of its angry slash with its opposite paw. My Ump clashed with my backside when I once again dipped around its swing.

"Hehe~" I wasn't the most sane of Dolls. "No blood?" It roared like I insulted it. It must've used its pea sized brain this time because it faked me out. The knife did little to protect me. Its paw was as large as I was anyway.

I understood that blow should've mostly ended my short stint in the tundra. T-Dolls were durable. But that hit was like getting it by... I daresay a bus?

I rolled to bleed the momentum. My knife was cracked and chipped right down the center where one of its claws made contact. My eyes trailed to my arm, my good one that was holding the combat knife. It was glowing a murky yellow.

It glowed the same light my eyes did. I had no time to process why it was doing that. Afterall I was a Sangvis manufactured Doll but I did not get a shield generator installed. I shouldn't have shielding.

I dodged to the side as the beast tried to belly flop me. Crush me perhaps? I climbed on its back and started stabbing it.

Fast, aggressive and agile. I tore armor plating off with my hands and the knife. I was on its neck as I snapped one of the smaller thinner spikes off.

I jammed my knife under its bone plated skull and began twisting it through the thin hide at the base of its skull. I grinned. The beast roared. I was causing it great pain.

With a final twist and thrust the beast started smoking. Its eye's glow died out.

I saw the moon through the clouds. It was broken. It was like a glass plate. If I dropped it on the ground.

I slouched on one of the spikes. I just stared. 'Where the fuck am I?' I received a ping.

Something electronic was approaching. It was airborne. Finally, I quickly breached its defenses and got to work. Flimsy firewall after flimsy firewall fell. I was in the system now. I separated half my attention to grounding, what I now understood as a VTOL.

The other half went into researching the moon and the black creature I was currently resting on.

Many answers presented themselves. Grim, Gods, Bullhead, Atlas, Mistral, Vale, Huntsman, Vacuo.

I had it all within seconds. Many were highly interesting. Aura and These Kingdoms were the larger ones of interest.

All the types of grim and knowledge on them flooded my memory banks.

I latched onto the com line next. "This is Manta 7-1. Something's interfering with our systems."

"This is HomeBase to Manta 7-1. Transmission is acknowledged, sending a vessel to your location of landing"

'Military..wonderful' I sat up .'I wonder if they'll spare some ammunition?' I was contemplating on asking nicely or doing it the way I was used to.

I kept the com system open and the headset on the male pilots head unmuted to me. "Hold on-Is that a Huntress?" He asked himself.

The aircraft came into my sight. "Hey, Homebase this is Manta 7-1. I have a Huntress here. " He paused. "I think she may be injured" This Homebase responded

"Land, rescue the Hunter. Medical is coming with the secondary bullhead"

The pilot gave an affirmative. The bullhead landed roughly courtesy of me. Not sorry.

The side hatch opened with a metallic click and lowered in silence. The pilot stepped out.

I almost laughed. He had this bucket of a helmet on. Like the ship it was painted a bright white. The only thing visible was his mouth. He looked like a knock off Robocop. from the old movie 9 and G11 forced me to watch.

I flipped the damaged knife in my hand as the pilot stepped out and addressed me. "I can give you a ride Miss"

I tossed the knife and caught it with my metal hand. The human flinched when his eyes greeted my openly metal arm.

It was sparking again. I winced. I hit the arm with a closed fist and the man flinched again. He was afraid of the callousness in which I treated my 'Lost arm'

Let's do what I do best: "I was wondering for days, fighting these dumbasses" Nodding back at the dissipating corpse.

He shook out of his stupor. "R-right" He opened the bag at the side and motioned for me to get in. Which I did with haste. I may have warmed up. But I was still slightly colder than what was comfortable.

He bought the lie. Hook, sinker and the whole fishing rod. With only his assumption as bait. Stupid, Stupid human.

I shrugged. And flopped down on the seat. "What's your name?" I was cold in my questioning. "James"

"Ookay, So Jimmy? You got any food?" I crossed my arms "And 45 acp?" I unslung my Namesake and began to scrub her clean with the cloth of my shirt.

I accidentally exposed my stomach to the man. The redness on his face shown me just how much he liked the sight.

"Food, No bullets though" He rocked in the chair. "What's your name Miss?"

I set the safety on my weapon and pulled my knife free and started scraping the grime from the creaveses.

"Call me.." I never actually got a civie name. I was always a tactical Doll. "Elena" My sister uses Reina. Mine should sound similar.

The pilot nodded off to himself, pulling out a tablet-like device "Last name is?" Stupid, human. Quit asking question's "Koch" I answered.

While he was typing I began to make my public file. I put down my cover name of Elena Koch.

My hypothetical age of 20. And basic information. I also set myself as a registered Huntress. I needed a team. Because according to the CCT. The internet in this place. Huntsman graduated as a group of four.

404 was perfect. There were four of us. G11 was put down as Fukuhara Ayaka. HK416 was put down as Ai Nonaka and My sister UMP9 was put down as Reina Koch.

I made our team EARA read as team Error or Era. 9 would laugh at the name I produced for us. Commenting on how similar Error was to 404. Both were saying something was amiss.

The military-esque pilot nodded along as he finished his typing. Just as I finished creating all our files.

I also marked all but me MIA. If the rest of 404 was on this Remnant with me... Our files were fully fleshed out.

"Team Error, huh?" He read. "Missing in action" He froze. Then he looked up at my scowling form. "Sorry, I know what happens when someones marked MIA"

He's lucky. If this was earth I would've blown his brains all over the center console and took the VTOL for myself.

—Secondary Aircraft approaching—

I linked up with that bullhead as well. Six people were present on that one. I shift my gaze from the nervous pilot to the window behind him.

One tall and imposing half cybernetic man stood within the center of the formation. There were five people standing in various places on the ship. Two women and three men. One of which had a tail?

I got my answer with another quick run through of the CCT. One of the women was large and almost as imposing as the commanding officer himself.

The other was petite and built for speed. One of the men was tall and lanky.

The other two were of basic shape. One more brawny than the other.

Special forces? Better than 404? No.

They didn't look hostile. But then again that could change.

The craft touched down and opened its hatch as the pilot in mine opened his. I didn't have a care in the world as I tore into the ration he provided.

They left their ship and entered ours. The pilot saluted. "General Ironwood Sir!"

The General extended a hang to me. "Miss Koch. I came to understand you where found here?"

I nodded and swallowed a bit of jerky. "Yes" Where exactly is here? I voiced just that.

"An Atlas military testing sight" I haven't been able to breach their security yet. Though it's crumbling as we conversed.

"Ja. I'm trespassing?" One of the men, a light chestnut haired man, presented a pair of cuffs. "You aren't aware?"

"Getting lost in the snow and passing out does that to you" Ironwood canceled the man's advance with the cuffs.

"I see, Please accompany me and my men back to Atlas Academy" He paused to let the words sink in.

"You will not be cuffed, But I would like to speak with you" I complied. Finishing off the ration. I stood. My legs were still numb.

So I was slightly unsteady. My ashen colored hair fell out of its tail. And I grumbled in irritation.

The other men filed out of the aircraft. Ironwood followed behind me. As he would not allow me to walk behind him. The two women followed out behind the General.

My Ump was shouldered. The barrel pointing to the crunchy snow. Last thing I needed to do was wave my weapon around aggressively.

The walk was short and brisk. The large woman wrapped her meaty arm around my shoulders. And I fought myself. She almost got attacked. "SO! Little lady." she poked my namesake. Almost causing me to drop her.

"What's it turn into?" I frowned and pushed her large arm with my shoulder in an effort to remove it.

"Nothing" She squeezed me. "Your cold, little one" 'no shit'

I'm in a tundra. This time I used my openly metal arm and a side step to get the large woman to release me.

"Let her be, Elm" The large woman, Elm stopped pinning me to her side and let go. She took several steps back.

I took a breath.

—-Security breached—-Uploading data—

I took a seat to let the information get processed without straining my body. There was a large amount.

Just like that all the secrets of the most powerful nation were at my fingertips. One file in particular interested me.

Project P.E.N.N.Y

This world had developing T-dolls. The androids and the mecha I wasn't impressed with. But this Impressed me.

So much so. That I looked to this General with newfound respect. But most was directed at the Father of this Robot with a soul.

"I'm taking a nap" I announced. The subsequent hacking of the Atlas military and the CCT. left me rather fatigued. The low temperatures helped in that case.

I closed my eyes, my last sight being Ironwood's back.

—New file acquired—-

—New file acquired—-

Those chimes accompanied me until darkness encroached over my processor.

I set a few systems, by systems I meant alarms and safety nets, before I let my consciousness fade. One of them was made to rouse me from my sleep state if my outer body was disturbed. the other was set to awaken me if any of 404 replied.

I hoped my family was still out there.