Cardin rolled his shoulders. The couch was very comfortable right now. Very comfortable. Velvet yelled something from the kitchen. But sleep was so inviting.
Velvet rubbed his knee, "Up, big boy. You are needed in the kitchen."
"Nooo…" He groaned, "I need my sleep."
"Come on," Velvet said.
Night wheeled overhead. The great dome of the sky stared down at Cardin from its thousand eyes.
Cardin stared back up with two. His mace hung above his feet, rotating slowly in his grip. The Cut Horror rose slowly from the pit, its tentacles spreading into the gray night, knitting a place among the stars and the scattered debris of the bombardment crater and refocused three of its bulbous eyes on him.
The two creatures looked at each other for a moment, the synapse center slowly working out the situation, Cardin's red face steaming ghostly white in the darkness.
They both knew how the engagement must begin. Cardin stepped forward into the Horror's chess game and allowed himself to be grabbed.
He could feel the Horror's suckers move slowly across his face, finding slight imperfections in his bone structure, in his sinews, in his tendons, in the soft flesh around his eyes.
Then the cutting came.
Micro razors on each sucker opened up and began to glide across his skin in a perfect pattern, a series of lines and curves optimized to disassemble his face.
And still, he couldn't pull away. Not yet.
He could feel the second tentacle wrap around his arm, then a third around his thigh. The suckers were getting awfully close to his eye. He could feel the cold writhing beneath his skin. A cut on his lips opened and closed as fast as Aura could fix it. He was suddenly blind for a moment. His face was slick with blood.
Another two tentacles attached, curiously wrapping under his legs and pulling him into the air, hanging upside down. He had to get closer. He couldn't pull away yet.
The razors pulled a square of flesh out of his thigh. The wound closed rapidly. Then the process repeated itself.
Another slowly sliced a long nerve out of his back.
He couldn't scream. He couldn't move. He prayed he still had enough connected nerves in his hands to do the deed. He could feel himself getting pulled closer. A nerve was slowly unwound from his forearm, its dendrites tugging emptily at his flesh as it left. His hand went numb. He still prayed. He imagined twisting his hand and pressing the button over and over again.
It didn't happen. And then it did.
The task was done. A sphere of light expanded like lighting inside the mouth of the Horror, pushing it open and out in all directions, pulling the Grimm apart until nothing remained of it but a few steaming chunks of unrecognizable flesh.
Cardin shook himself a few times and then vomited. He stood slowly.
Then he turned back to the crater. He was the bulwark of Atlas. The Black Fortress of ACRN. A one-man wall between his people and the dark. He stood fully.
The next one out of the pit was a creeping thing, some crude siege machine of the Grimm, its great mandibles opening and closing in confusion at the stars. It had probably never seen them before. Cardin broke it easily.
Neptune was not far behind the siege Grimm. His two arms reached from the pit suddenly, shocking Cardin and putting him on his guard. He made a short little human noise to confirm his identity and began to climb out. His red coat and blue hair cut into Cardin's black and white world, soothing his racing pulse. Neptune turned and began to haul the bodies of the Atlesian soldiers he had recovered from the pit.
Neither spoke as Neptune piled up three bodies and went about putting them on a linked sled system. They both nodded to each other and started out together at a slow trot across the cratered ground, traveling up and down the pockmarks left by heavy artillery all across the once smooth tundra. Only a day ago, this had been just another field.
Now it was the highest security place on the planet.
The Fist floated above them, the dark obelisk of its hull blocked out half the shattered moon and a small sea of stars, giant searchlights swept the shell-torn surface for fissures in the earth or holes a Grimm might escape from. After one was found, it was marked with a high visibility laser, and the searchlights circled on in search of another hole. Cardin waved one down now, watching a light go wide from the ballet a moment, indicating understanding, before the whirl of eyes continued.
Cardin trudged along, enjoying the rhythmic crunch of his boots against the scorched lichen. The sleds he pulled bumped and trundled over the debris, changing direction rapidly, the bodies they held shaking against their straps.
He could trace the exhaust plume of a Manta against the stars as it was launched from the Fist. The exhaust streak blurred the stars in a great curling arc on its way to a crater about thirty feet from the path Cardin was picking through the wreckage.
Cardin closed the distance in a few moments and waited as the pilot opened the side doors, watching their breath cool in the night air.
After the pilot had given them the go-ahead, Cardin grabbed the first sked by its top straps, tried not to breathe in, and heaved it into the troop compartment.
A wet splash interrupted his thoughts, and he looked over to his right. Neptune knelt, buckled over next to the second sked, heaving his dinner all over the ground.
Cardin put a hand on his shoulder, and Neptune shuffled over a bit to give him access to the sked.
Velvet pulled him away from the couch, and he landed on the floor with a thud. It was good to be back in the land of the living.
"Dinner's ready!" His girlfriend scolded.
Cardin nodded with all the coherence of a late afternoon nap and shook himself like a dog.
Velvet seemed satisfied and returned to the table, where two steaming plates of pasta sat, one at each spot.
Cardin struggled off the ground and stood. He staggered a bit and braced himself against the ceiling with his right hand.
He felt more awake after the few steps to his chair. Finally, after a brief staring contest with his pasta, his brain reached a new stage of consciousness, and he reached for the beer.
He was halfway through his third plate when Velvet decided to speak up.
"So, Cardin… I'm glad you're home," she said.
Cardin nodded and looked at her plate. She hadn't eaten a third of it yet.
"I have something that I need to discuss with you, is that okay right now?"
Cardin put his beer down. This seemed important.
"Sure. I'm here for you. Always. I'm sorry the mission ran a day long. The Rear Admiral did something impulsive, and things got out of control. But, anyways, you don't really care, I'm home now, I'm here for you,"
Velvet smiled, "I know. Thank you for being there for me… I wanted to tell you… something happened, and I didn't know until you were gone…"
Cardin frowned. He had just locked the weapons closet, "What happened?"
"It's nothing bad… I guess I'm saying a lot to say a little," She crossed her arms and rocked, "What I wanted to say was that–I'm pregnant." She smiled, trying to put a little confidence into her words.
Cardin's facial expression didn't change. He swallowed his spaghetti and waved his fork at his plate a moment before grunting, "Huh?"
"I'm pregnant, love." Velvet confirmed, this time fully smiling.
Cardin could feel some kind of feral animal in the back of his skull, "I… what?" The spaghetti ran off his fork, "I can't be pregnant. I have work. I have things to kill. I'm a man."
Velvet's smile stayed, or, at least, Cardin didn't notice it slip, "You're not pregnant. I am."
Cardin stood suddenly and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, pulling it over. Velvet flinched.
"I– this isn't– about you–I'm going to breathe a bit–Don't be sad–I will be back–Maybe tonight. It's just around the block, a-and…" Cardin said as he turned and walked from the house.
He left the door open.
Velvet looked out into the inky air of this accursed continent and bit back a sob.
This was never part of the plan.
Cardin stared at the grey concrete of the sidewalk. He had stopped walking after he turned the corner. Fluorescent lights lit the chalk drawing beneath his feet in a disgusting yellow-green.
Cardin tried to see it in another light. He really did, but his eyes kept smearing the image.
He wiped at his face. Tears filled his eyes again.
Why couldn't he just be happy?
The faces of those dead Atlesian soldiers resurfaced in his mind, and he couldn't hold it in anymore.
He began to wail.
Neptune staggered off the airship and across the polished steel floors of the battlecruiser. Heavy Equipment roared around him, and he blinked in the white lighting.
He got his feet under him in a few more steps and took stock of the situation. Airmen milled around him in neon green jumpsuits, moving ammo belts, attaching fuel hoses, and conducting diagnostics.
Neptune fixed his tie and approached the crew chief, red oilcoat billowing around his calves.
"Hey there, Huntsman!" The chief shouted, pulling his clunky square goggles from his eyes, "Anything I can do for ya?!"
"Yeah! Can you tell me where the bridge is at?!"
The Chief frowned and beckoned towards the exit with his arm. Neptune followed.
The chrome doors hissed closed behind them shortly.
"This is a Warbird, son. You know what that means?" His great mustache emphasized every word as he spoke. He gestured down the hallway with a claw wrench, "All roads lead to Mistral,"
Neptune nodded and thanked the man, setting off down the hallway.
It soon became apparent that while a crew chief may know a Warbird, Neptune did not, and while every hallway either led to the bridge or terminated prematurely, Neptune did not know which did which.
The Huntsman strode down the hallway rapidly reading signs, all giving him various useless bits of information. Each hallway was lit the same. Every doorway looked similar.
There was nothing to help him find the bridge. No signs. No light strips. Nothing.
It seemed as if he kept walking down dead ends and never finding a hallway that led to the main one.
That is, of course, until he did. The hallway was not significantly different from the others he had found in the ship, but it was broader and more traveled.
He passed through the double doors at the end of the hall and quickly scanned the room beyond. Various technicians were sitting in their places, making calls and directing batteries. Still, standing in the center of it all, resplendent in the uniform of an Atlesian specialist, stood Rear Admiral Winter Schnee.
Neptune's face turned red. Blood red.
"HEY!" He barked.
Bridge security moved to restrain him. They were brushed aside like so much sand from the shoulder of his oilskin.
She was his business and no one else.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Winter asked, her voice intentionally neutral.
"To the families of the dead," Neptune said, shaking as he approached the Admiral, "Now you're gonna shut up, and I'm gonna talk, and at the end, you are going to say what you're gonna do to make this right, and admit that you did wrong, or I will not leave this bridge."
Winter remained unmoved.
"So! You were the one who approved that incursion into the Hive, right?" He challenged.
"Yes," She answered.
"Who did you send?!" Neptune asked, spitting while he spoke.
"Team VNTA. They were top of their class at Atlas Academy. I supposed a couple feet of Greater Hive would help me to better measure their skills while accomplishing a little reconnaissance." Winter answered again, still unmoved.
Neptune looked to be gathering himself; he was shaking less, then he exploded, "ARE YOU FUCKING RETARDED?!"
"No,"
"Then why?" He asked, quiet again, "Why didn't they have humidity scrubbing gas masks? Those masks were equipped with every bell and whistle except for the one they needed. Why?!"
Winter had the grace to look confused, "What?"
"You actually don't know?" Neptune said, his tone rising again, "you have a responsibility to know. You are a high-ranking leader. How do you not know?"
"Enough of this. Tell me what I should have known, or I will remove you from my airship. You get the same intelligence reports I do."
"But apparently, you don't read the old ones. Shortly after the migration to Vacuo, Sigma swarm surfaced again. The SDC published a report on their new methods for keeping huntsmen out after JWVL decimated them. You should have gotten the same report."
Winter nodded affirmation.
"They keep little maggots around the entrances to their holes that create heat and raise the humidity. Once anyone gets deep enough in the cave, their body starts changing the air temperature in their lungs to 98.6 degrees. Then water rapidly precipitates out, and they drown." He took a deep breath, "Ma'am, team VNTA is dead, they drowned, and I was only able to recover three of their bodies. They arrived just now in one of your bays,"
"Indeed," Winter confirmed, "It seems you have more to say?"
Neptune looked away, "Ma'am, as the highest-ranking member of ACRN not otherwise occupied, I present to you my AAR. We have killed in service of your contract over a thousand Grimm today and have greatly supported your operation in the protection of your country. I declare that ACRN has completed your assigned mission of finding the Great Swarm and has gone above and beyond the letter of the bounty. I am here to collect payment and go home."
Winter's upper lip curled a bit, but she responded, "The money will be wired into your accounts by midnight. Begone, huntsman,"
Neptune turned and left the bridge.
Neptune wasn't really sure why he had the TV on. He wasn't watching it. He was just sitting in his living room staring at it.
His goggles lay on the table next to his scroll and a glass of that liquor Sun had sent him. He had been saving it for whenever he would be invited over to the Arc's next, but tonight had been one of those nights that needed something to distinguish it from all the others.
He looked long and hard at the nonsense on the TV in front of him, trying to make out something sensible, and sighed. Nothing sensible would come. This cop show was boring. The clues were obviously left for a lesser mind. He reached for the remote and turned it off. His house was dark once more.
Tri-hard glowed softly from its place next to him on the couch, its ionized barrel still crackling with electricity. Neptune reached to turn on its fire safety but didn't and just let his hand rest against the weapon.
His gaze fell from the TV to his scroll, sitting there dark, like the rest of the house. Maybe she would call tonight. Maybe she would tell him where she was so he could go see his son.
Jaune had offered many times to tell him. He knew where the Branwen tribe was. But Neptune always refused. He wanted her to tell him. He needed the invitation.
Deep down, Neptune had figured it out a long time ago. He had figured it out before Jaune had even got the report on it. He was getting those weekly now.
Neptune knew where his son was. He knew where his son's mother was. But he didn't go. He wouldn't go.
Without her invitation…
He reached for the bowl of Cheez-its he had put on the lampstand.
That phone left an image in his mind. Maybe tonight would be the night he called.
It was about an hour later where she was. She would be awake. Or Sage would.
He could have the life he wanted if he just picked up the phone.
He picked up the bowl of Cheez-its and ate a fistful thoughtfully.
Maybe not tonight. He would call in the morning. She liked the daytime better than the nighttime.
Still, it had only been two years. She probably didn't miss him yet. She was a nomad. Who was he kidding? She probably didn't even know he was gone.
Someone knocked at the door.
He put the bowl of Cheez-its down and picked up his rifle, letting it twist and dangle lazily in his left hand.
He was out of the room and down the hallway in three steps.
Who could be at his door at this hour? Who had any interest in this house?
He was halfway down the hallway in five steps.
In seven steps, he was–He pulled up short. Someone was in his house. His grip tightened on Tri-Hard.
There was no one at the door. It hadn't been a human hand that knocked. The sound was too hollow. The back door had been unlocked while the cop show was still on.
Things added up in his mind way too fast.
Tri-Hard was against his shoulder in a breath as he torqued his upper body around.
Cold gunmetal against his temple jerked him to a stop.
"You're getting distracted," A beloved voice intoned boredly, "That's the second time that trick has worked."
Neptune swatted Jingu Bang away from his head, "Sun! It's been ages!"
The monkey king looked him up and down, his blue eyes filled with caution and worry, "It has. It's been too long,"
"What brings you here?" Neptune asked, resting Tri-Hard against his lat.
"Blake was visiting the Arcs. I decided that it was time to get out of the office,"
Neptune stepped past Sun and back into the living room, picking up his bowl of Cheez-its.
"That answers why you're in town," He ate a mouthful, "Why are you here?"
"Ren is getting worried about you and Cardin. I figured I'd check-in,"
"Well, I'm doing pretty well, as you can see," Neptune shrugged.
Sun looked unimpressed, "You are distracted. It didn't take a house invasion to show that. What's on your mind?"
Neptune blew air out of his mouth for a long moment, "I miss Yang and Jay. I don't know why I'm here,"
"Then go back. They would be happy to see you,"
"No,"
"Why no? You just said you wanted to see them,"
"I'm working, Sun. I have a job to do. Yang understands. She said I should go,"
"You have a family, Nep. You should go home,"
"I just told you that I have a job," Neptune said flatly.
"And I just said that you have a ten-year-old son you haven't seen in two years,"
Neptune took a step closer to Sun, "You built your life. You have your wife and twins. You rule a country. You left the job. I didn't, and I won't; someone still needs to watch the dark,"
"You have a responsibility Nep,-" Sun began.
"Yes, I do. To my team. To the people. I come last," Neptune cut him off.
"You just said you don't know why you're here. It doesn't sound that way,"
"I miss her. If the Grimm disappeared tomorrow, if Winter Schnee's vision of a new Atlesian Military were enough to keep the world safe, then I would be gone. I would take Yang down to Menagerie and sit on the beach, get drunk, and party for the rest of my life. But that's not how things are, and the job still needs to get done,"
"Two things wrong with that. You didn't mention or plan for Jay at all. You also lied to my face. You're not here because you want to save the world. Ren doesn't want to save the world, Jaune doesn't want to save the world, Cardin doesn't want to save the world. You don't want to save the world."
Neptune just looked at him and shrugged.
"When you first met me in that desert in Vacuo, what did you say you wanted to do?" Sun asked.
"We both know that I've changed since then," Neptune said.
"You said that you wanted to get some girls, kill some monsters, and have a good time. I was all for it then,"
Neptune's face turned a little red. Sun couldn't tell whether it was anger or embarrassment.
" But, you have a family now. That's not the life we lead anymore, so figure out what you're doing and why you're doing it,"
"I have a job," Neptune protested, crossing his arms.
"Jaune says there is one more job. He's headed to Vacuo to break up the gangs over there; then you're going home."
"What about ACRN?"
"He says that you all have too much on your plate. Ren's new daughter will be born soon, Velvet's pregnant, and Jay needs you,"
"One last job?"
"Jaune said Weiss was going to kill him if he left her sight again, but he had already signed the contract. It shouldn't take more than a week."
"A week to break up how many gangs?"
"The whole palooza. Don't worry. I'll help with this one,"
The scroll rang.
"You should answer it." Sun said with a smirk, "She got a new scroll,"
