DAY 11

Sully

A cool breeze blew against my face, washing it in the smell of fine tobacco. Then something flaked into my eyes. I thought it was sand. It felt the same way during those sandstorms in the desert of Rub' al Khali. It would get everywhere, in my eyelids, my brows, my nostrils, my shoes…

But then my cheeks and nostrils started to get numb. It was cold. Pressure built on my head, pressing my back into the ground. My lips brushed something watery; ice. My nose snorted in the particles of snowflakes. And the burn that crawled down my arms had started to constrict like a fiery anaconda.

I managed to pull myself from the shock when the autopilot version of me took over. It was steam burns, I realized. My arms are still useful.

I started wiggling them. Blisters oozed over my skin in the snow, and the tiny flakes of ice felt like glass against them. I knew what the cold did to burns; I had to get out of there as fast as I could.

"Ellie! Ellie!" The voice was faint, drowned in the whirling of wind.

Were we outside? I tried to clear the snow around my mouth, brushing a hand against the pounds of the stuff pressing into my teeth. It was so cold I could barely feel each finger; it caused them to reach out clumsily

"Nate!"

My fingers scraped against my teeth.

"Nora!? Nora, call out to me!"

I opened my mouth. Shards of snowflakes piled onto my tongue.

"On me!" I heard Arbiter calling out to us, from afar

"I'm going to Arbiter!" Nora seemed close by.

"Everyone, go to Arbiter!" Joel was there, the furthest voice. "Follow our voices!"

"I'm over here!" Arbiter started shouting out. "I'm over here!"

He had to have called ten times before I felt my nose reach the air. "Someone help me! I'm trapped!"

"Sully! Where are you?" Cole's voice was even further than Joel's.

I felt a hand poke free. "Jesus, here! I'm here!"

Then a deep voice blew above me, "I found him!"

It was Wrex.

I felt my arm tug against my shoulder, my torso and head being pulled with it. It was like being born from frosty the snowman. Piles collapsed atop me, a blanket of snow blinding my eyes. I had something in my hand- my pack of cigars.

I still had my legs, but Wrex, the big red lizard hero, had to carry me.

"Gah!" The burn suddenly became red hot. The pack fell out of my hand, "God! My arms!"

"Can you stand?" Wrex got me on my feet. The toe parts of my leather shoes peeled apart. Both of my arms had been made red, and were covered in blisters from the steam. They at least shielded my face from the blast.

It snowed like the top of the himalayas. We were in the garden. Somehow, a blizzard had overtaken it. Snow blanketed everything, and the wind brought more down in tidal waves. You could barely see five feet in front of you.

"Help!" A man's voice called out; it was the guy who called out Ripley's plan. "Someone stop her!"

Me and Wrex didn't even hesitate. We started walking towards them. The man- Clarke- kept shouting for the person to stop. That it was dangerous.

"Get off me! I can do this!"

The exit sign, still glowing red, served as a beacon. Their voices were coming from it.

"What's going on?" I called out, feet pulling up chunks of snow as they sank with each step, elbow blocking the numbing spray from reaching my face.

I heard snow, crunched under many feet behind us. Then Clarke screamed, "She's gonna set off another explosion!"

From somewhere far behind, Joel shouted, "Stop her!"

Wrex was the first to start running. He trusted me to keep up, and I did with a limp. I didn't even know what had happened to my leg to make it limp. Falling knee deep into the snow didn't help much either.

Wrex managed to avoid that, his toes splaying out when they touched the ground. I guessed it must've been a natural snow shoe. The back of his shiny red armor managed to stay visible, but it receded in a cloud of snow. Then a light overtook us from behind..

The Master Chief cut through the falling ice like it wasn't there. He became a blur real quick, but the lights on his helmet strengthened the silhouettes of two tangling figures in the distance, underneath the glowing red exit sign. His massive figure engulfed one of the others, and pulled them away from the sign.

I gasped, as the red light seemed to grow stronger. I started taking steps closer, and Clarke's cool visor started to leak through the snowy veil, overlooking Ripley taking facefulls of snow from being pressed down by Chief.

"What's the problem?" Wrex stayed clear of the Chief and Ripley.

"The thermite will evaporate the snow!" Clarke's voice came out like the howl of a deep sea diver, like his head was locked in cast iron, "Turn it to steam instantly!"

I looked down at my arms, as if I forgot my injuries for a second, "That's what got me!"

"No! It will work!" Ripley pleaded through gritted teeth, her fight exhausted but still alive, even with snow and blood coming down her face.

"Ripley, stop!" Chief's voice somehow managed to come out crisp clear through his helmet.

Clarke got down closer to Ripley, Chief easing her off and letting her get to a knee. Clarke grabbed her shoulder, making her face him. His helmet actually folded away, disappearing into a little piece in the back of his neck. He locked eyes with her, "Thermite can work underwater. The snow wasn't what stopped it!"

Another powerful sting makes me hiss. That reminded Wrex I still existed. "Elizabeth!" He cupped his hands around that big mouth of his. His voice came out like he was a goddamn humpback whale, "Elizabeth!"

"Over here!" She must've gotten to safety in time. Marcus carried Mr Glass in his arms, the fragile man's own arm tied to his chest in a makeshift sling. Elizabeth had been ready.

"Sully's hurt!" Wrex actually seemed worried. He pulled me up from being half sunken in the snow.

"Let me see him." Elizabeth was close enough that she didn't need to shout. I gasped when she touched a blister on my arm.

"Lift me up man!" Franklin was heard shouting by the wall. I forgot the wall was even there, for a split second.

Chief's voice cut through clearly, "What are you doing?"

I began to recognize the other person, wearing his all leather clothes. Jaime was trying to lift Franklin up by the foot, flesh and blood hand supporting his golden hand as a step for the other man. "I should be doing this!"

"Just push me up!" Franklin stretched his whole back to reach the ceiling, "We're getting the hell out of here!"

But Franklin had found his hand hitting a solid barrier. "What the fuck..." He tapped at it with his knuckles. It sounded like he was knocking on a brick wall. "It's snowing through the ceiling!"

"I don't understand!" Ripley's eyes glared at the ceiling through that thick mask of bloodstained snow stuck to her face, pushing herself off Chief like she wanted to attack whatever was throwing snow at us.

A maniacal laugh filled the air. "Don't you all get it?" Mr Glass's voice was cruel. The cold icicle already climbing down my spine became razor sharp. For a moment, it outdid the pain in my scalded arms. "We ain't leaving that easily!"

Elizabeth seemed to gently inspect his eyes, a single finger on his chin. "He's delirious!" She reported, and brushed off the broken old man for a second. She seemed to try and reach out towards the big red lizard, "Wrex, you need to get Sully out of here! He's covered in steam burns! The snow will only make it worse!"

Wrex looked down at me. I didn't like it, but I knew what he had to do. His arm went around the back of my knees, and he lifted me up above the snow.


Arbiter had managed to gather everyone and bring them to the hospital entrance. Most people had minor scrapes, sprains. Me and Glass got the worst of it. Elizabeth took me and rolled up my sleeves all the way. Wrapped my arms in wet towels.

After that, rest. I slept, tossing and turning in my bed in the large hospice. I begged her to just let me grab a room for the night, but she wouldn't have it with someone as old as me, injured and all. I slept a little.

But that man, Blazkowicz, was visited when the lights were out. By one of the Deltas. My ear picked up on their disembodied voices.

"… He's still up to something." An accent that could only possibly come from a Kiwi whispered out the words. I faced away, but my ear tilted slightly towards them.

Blazkowicz spoke in that familiar Texan accent, the man himself always sounding hoarse while speaking. "He gets her to pass along messages. From his bed."

I rolled over to face the ceiling, eyes closed. I opened my mouth and let out the loudest snore I could muster.

The draw of air put the conversation to a dead stop, the pair of them startled. They were hiding something. Brushing it as just the noise of a sleeping old man, the leader of delta squad continued. "Keep watching. I'll be nearby."

Then, Blazkowicz showed a sharp danger to his voice, "You better not be a gestapo."

There was no more talking after that. And to be honest, I didn't really care anymore. Sleep caught up with me.


That morning, I said nothing. I was waiting in bed while Elizabeth treated Glass, trying her best to make a cast without breaking his delicate bones.

"Now just be gentle- Oh!" He clutched his shoulder, eyes so wide the lids looked like they were never there.

"What!" Elizabeth dropped the bandage roll, letting it dangle off his firmly wrapped arm as she covered her mouth in horror. "What?!"

He looked midway to a horrific shriek of pain, until he froze. And broke out into laughter. Elizabeth growled, and covered her face in her hands, Glass patting her gently on the shoulder with his fingertips.

I raised a brow at the sight from my bed. "Delirious… Yeah right."

Then Cole visited me.

He tracked in drips of water, snow melting off the shoulder of his dress shirt. He still had that fedora, but his tie had been undone for quite a while now. It hung around his neck, just a ragged piece of cloth now. And he clearly wasn't getting sleep. Gossip from Elizabeth said he spent the night staring blankly over his notebook on one of the stairwells just outside. And that's nothing to say of the depressive shell Ripley has fallen into…

"Miss Ackerman here has agreed to help… fill in, while you're getting better," He pinched the bridge of his nose, twisting the bags of skin underneath his eyes. "Wrex has agreed to keep any suspects I might have."

My eyes went wide. "Keep?" I sat up straight, "You mean lock up?"

Cole sighed. "I'm done playing around. We need to get to the bottom of this."

At first I thought Cole didn't realize what he was saying, but the tiredness in his tone reached me. He was about to start a damn inquisition. "Now Cole, just listen-"

"Enough with the gentle trickle, Sullivan!" He shot a glare, and he stopped talking like he was a friend. "It's already been a week, and we know absolutely nothing!"

"Take it easy!" I threw my hands up, and glared at Wrex. That big red lizard was smiling, I was sure of it. I frowned at the scarred alien, "You've been waiting for this, haven't you Wrex?"

Wrex kept his arms wrapped around his chest. That blood red eye glared back, "These aren't civilians. They can handle a little rumble."

"Just…" I started. Cole crossed his arms, but the fatigue leaked through. But he wasn't going to let this go. I let out a hard breath, "Pick your fights, Cole. Don't push people who'll push back."

Cole looked to the floor and sucked his lips in. "We're all killers here, Sullivan."

Well...There it goes.

There's been a lot of times I've been cooped up with mercenaries, pirates, killers, warlords and the general psychopath. I shouldn't have been surprised; sooner or later, they realize I don't have the money, I don't know where the treasure is, that I'm not their friend, I'm not entertaining, or even… Hell, one of their own screws it up for everyone.

Cole is just too damn out of his element. He means well, but he's going to be walking around, bumping into people like a lead pipe.

I sighed through my nose. "Just be careful. That's all I'm asking."

"We know what we're doing." A voice I never heard before came out from Mikasa, in english. She had a glowing yellow circuit board pattern on her neck. Must've been the easy way around the language barrier. "He's not alone."

Wish Wrex had given Akane hers a lot sooner…

This is bad. She's a good young lady, but she's a fighter. Moves like she's trained and experienced. Cole shouldn't be using people like that to knock on doors; she's just a hammer looking for a nail.

The three of them left. Glass eyed them from his bed on the way out, Elizabeth following his gaze. Wrex passed Marcus, the self-proclaimed supermutant reading a book titled Small arms and Unit Tactics.

Whatever tech Wrex had obviously let him read English, because he reacted with a deep chuckle, "Your size not enough, mutant?"

Marcus looked up, but not at Wrex. "I have centuries of life ahead of me. I'm going to make the best of it."

"I already have."


After I showed I could actually carry my own weight on my two feet, Elizabeth decided to let me go.

Glass had waved me goodbye, as I redid the buttons on my shirt. "See you later, Sullivan," He said, in an impersonation of Cole's voice. I left the strange man without saying a thing.

Elizabeth let me take a bedroom right outside the hospital. The 'Blizzard' made it harder to move between the two wings, so she wanted me close.

Kara had moved in next door, keeping the promise she made yesterday.

She didn't have much with her, just the boots and winter jacket she had first come with, and a single box worth of stuff: tools, utensils, and what was obviously one of those bladed hammers Joel tends to craft. I stopped by while her door was still open, "Jesus, what a shit show."

"When did it ever stop being one?" She was emptying the box on a table. I nearly took a step back at the sight of strange IV-like bags, labeled thirium 310.

Kara had filled the table with them. I was about to ask her about it, when she locked her eyes with mine. They were unsteady, and her breath started to pick up its pace. "Did you see Phelp's new group? They looked ready for whatever happens next."

I let go of a heavy breath. "They're just gonna ruffle some jackets. Don't stress about it."

"No, I think it's good what they're doing." She pulled the plastic piece off one of the bags; she sipped the strange blue liquid without hesitation. "Whoever helped Dutch needs to be caught."

That got a look out of me. "That out there?" I brushed away at the air with a dismissive hand, "That's just chest thumping. They are not gonna catch anyone going like this."

She sits down, and places a hand on the table. "Having a monster on the team certainly makes it feel better." For a brief second, I could've sworn the color on the back of her hand went as white as porcelain. "And that woman looked like a fighter."

I did a double take. When I looked, her skin was the normal pale color it usually was. "Stay with Arbiter," I said after shaking my head; Wrex was not the good alien. "He'll keep everyone safe."

She actually rolled her eyes. "People are blaming him for what happened."

The blizzard? Or Akane? I shook my head and stopped myself from asking. " Come on, it wasn't his fault," I said unconvincingly, even to myself.

She sighed, and turned away from me to unpack a last item. What she said next was unexpected, "Do you trust Nate?"

That caught me off guard for a second. "Of course I do."

"He's moving into the room next door." The final item in her box was one of the portable fueled stoves, "Me and Echo talked about moving close together on this side, all three of us."

"You talk to Echo?" I asked. Among all the far future people, Echo was the most mysterious and antisocial, besides Clarke. I never even got word out of her past, besides what year she was coming from.

"She's a combat specialist," She said the word with extreme professionality, and eyebrow raiser. She brushed up the fuel stove a bit. "It's a skill I wasn't… Born with."

I gulped. Groups were forming, and in isolation, there were only other groups to get mad at.

"You do what you gotta do," Is what I said, holding on tight to that winning smile of mine…


Took - In the Mountain Base

The wind of the mountain came with gusts of snow fraying overhead.

Some of it swirled backwards and got caught in the long gap in the wall; a structure not unlike the battlement of a castle, if it had a rocky ceiling. It blew over me, twisting and rustling my gray and tattered robes under its cool movement.

The eastern half of the base had a stone- no, a concrete battlement. It overlooked the other side of the mountains. A lavish evergreen forest had grown around a sweet blue lake, flocks of birds fluttering around, calling the place their home. That was where the seeds had wanted to go.

Beside, an exit allowed one to walk onto the wooden scaffold, tucked away underneath, out of sight from those on high. Two men in coats and those simple green helms of this particular army sat in the bare wind on the rickety scaffold below, manning those mechanical monstrosities of murder. The man kingdoms back home would have salivated at getting those in their arsenal.

I pondered, with a stroke of my beard, why they'd set up such a stationary defense in the open, rather behind the battlements. Surely, they'd want to use this concrete to block enemy fire, if they had weapons as deadly as theirs!

And then I realized the structural flaw; the battlements were too thick. I needed to crawl onto about a forearm length on my belly, just to get a head out in order to look at the sloping pathways below, where an attack could originate from.

It was unfit for any defense… which meant this army did not build this fortress. They merely found it.

"Have you been down there?" I spoke to the young men accompanying me. Skalitz and Finnigan. They held the rank of what they call Corporals. "Down there? Where the forests lay?"

No answer. They were playing the silent game with me. Ordered not to divulge anything. Didn't mean I couldn't get anything.

"Yes?" I probed. "No?"

Again, they didn't speak with their words. But where those twitchy eyes lingered was its own sort of conversation.

I faced the forest again. The flock of birds had been the last piece of activity among the trees. Now, not even the wind dared to trouble the trees.

In the vast lawn of icy still trees, a single sound could be heard. Pop. Pop. Pop.

"...There are reasons you don't go down there. Is it those monsters? The men in the ripples?" I eyed a spot near the lake. "No...It's something else."

Finnigan played the part of a good man-at-arms well. But Skalitz followed my eyes. He saw it too. "...Miller said-"

Finnigan's eyes were like daggers, "Skalitz."

Skalitz' feet went frigid, but I poured some warmth into him with a gentle look and a firm hand on the shoulder. I took his eyes off Finnigan, "What did Miller say?"

"Skalitz!" Finnigan tried to talk sense into him, but I had Skalitz. No one likes holding onto secrets for too long. Especially when they were in the dark themselves.

His eyes were cast to the ground in shame, "There's something different down there every day. Sometimes big, sometimes fast. The mountains are the only things keeping us safe-"

Finnigans hand came for the other shoulder. He tore the other corporal from my grasp and a single foot off the ground, and looked him hard in the eye. "What the hell are you doing?"

Skalitz jerked the shoulder out of Finnigan's grip. He nearly fell, but caught himself well on one leg. "He had a right to know."

"I don't care." He took Skaltiz' steel helmet off and slapped him on the forehead while he reached for it. "Miller will decide what happens next."

I covered my giggling mouth. But I knew Miller was actually on the way, "Come now, I forced it out of him."

His eyes focused on the lower parts of my face, "You shut up or I'm gonna rip that beard off."

My lips sealed shut.

"He had a right." Finnigan echoed Skalitz with a whine. "You're a Ranger, Henry. You know how important intel is, and you just failed to keep ours safe."

They got into it for a bit, arguing about the validity of keeping the hazards of the island a secret.

They weren't doing well, is what I could tell. The Stein attacks were putting a weight on them, otherwise it wouldn't have been that easy to get Skalitz talking. This was the most prepared and sophisticated army I've ever encountered, and they were monumentally unprepared and survived with crude effectiveness.

My finger curled against my bottom lip as the realization hit me: they didn't expect to be here. Their battle lies elsewhere.

I didn't need to ask, for I already knew how they got here. The same way I did...

"How the hell am I gonna trust you if you can't even-" Finnigan cut his words short. The rusted steel door was forced open with a creak that slipped sharp crystals of ice down my spine. Captain Miller stepped out, ready to yell at the men.

His mouth was caught mid angry scream when the scenery took him in. With the hot forges inside, the breeze out here must've been his favorite. He enjoys the moment whenever he can.

A glance out felt like finally drinking a cool glass of water in an arid desert. The poor man nearly closed his eyes as he breathed it in through his nostrils.

"Ah." I spoke up, pulling him away. Time is of the essence, after all. "You've finally found the time."

His expression melted away, steam from a heated sword. He eyed the two corporals, "What's going on?

The two were already standing at attention. I felt the urge to join them, and did it halfway behind them. "Sir," Finnigan was the first to get a word out. "Skalitz has loose lips."

Miller eyed the younger one, "That right, Skalitz?"

"Yes, sir!" He spoke the words like it was drilled into him.

"Head down to the mess," Miller's tone started to sharpen, "Make sure you chew with your mouth shut."

Skalitz stood straight, but he didn't seem to have a response to the remark. Then Miller jolted forward- his nose practically touched with Skalitz. "You eat with your mouth open, Corporal?"

"No sir!" He yelled, like it was expected of him.

Then, Miller made a path. "Get down to the mess!" He stabbed a finger towards the door, "On the double!"

The man leaned forward and fell into a sprint. The door was left ajar in his wake.

I tried to speak when Finnigan stood between me and Miller, "Sir-"

"Shut up Finnigan." He wasn't at all happy with Skalitz' mustached partner. "Go stand by the pillar."

"Sir?"

"That pillar right there!" He pointed far behind me.

He ran towards it. The whistling wind would've drowned out any softer words at that distance. Miller's tensed expression melted like butter basking in the sun. He was back leaning against the concrete, staring out.

"Were they fighting?" He kept breathing in the view as he asked.

I took the spot next to him, "Yes"

He glanced at me, "You cause it?"

"Not intentionally" No use lying. He deserves honesty. "I wanted to know what was down there."

"That's all it took?" He actually laughed. "There are new reasons for infighting everyday."

I laughed back at him, but he had shared something even more valuable. The men are growing disgruntled…

"Which way were you coming from? The sea right?" At my nod, he breathed heavily. "So I take it you've never been down that way?"

"In truth?" I judged my words carefully. "That place is a step I have to make in my journey. I would like to know what's in store for me."

He nodded, "It's inhabited. We went down there once, to hunt. Now all we do is look down with binoculars." He took a heavy breath, "There are new things living there every week."

He shared stories. Rats the size of wolves. Insects, capable of piercing through the heart with a stinger. And large, indescribable monsters, towering over the trees.

His eyes glazed as he recalled, and my expression softened as I realized he had witnessed these things killing men.

"How are you settling in?" Miller asked suddenly. Then I saw it in his eyes, always wandering away, searching for some far off danger. He's afraid.

"My new bedroll is comfortable," I said, though in truth I've lived in potato sacks that were warmer. "Makes the dungeon a little more cozy. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

His eyes had caught a rustle in the trees. They stayed fixated as he spoke, "What do you want?"

It was time to give a man hope. "I left something out there," I looked to the south. The smell of burning bodies still reached my nose. "That way."

His attention had finally been caught. He stood straight and followed my eyes, "That way?"

I nodded at him.

"How far?"

"I must've ran…" I sucked in my gut. I recounted the breathfuls it took to get close to the fire spewing men. "Thirty minutes."

"And you want to go out there?" He leaned a shoulder against the concrete, his eyes fixated on me. "What's so important?"

I pictured the seeds in my mind. The first time I spoke to the one that spawned them. That glimmer in the darkness. And I smiled, "Hope."

Miller's eyes went hard, "That's not good enough."

Men of war, I reminded myself. "A weapon, then."

I overlooked the mountains; another storm grew above them, forming in a cloud of silver. "If the Steins as you call them get their hands on it, things will only get much worse for you."

"A weapon can be hope?" He sounded sure of himself at first. Then he looked at the weapon on his belt, the dagger sized firearm. "What kind of weapon?"

"A pouch, with fifteen seeds in them." I grasped the shortened strands of hair on my face, "I kept it hidden in my beard, and it got ripped off with a piece of my hair. It'll stand out."

His expression froze mid-way to wide eyed. "You want to go out there for seeds?"

I maintained my smile, "Yes."

His lips twitched. His mouth opened and closed. Whether it was five or a hundred, whatever questions he had died in his throat. He looked at the hand that tended to quiver. It wasn't. "...Okay."

His answer surprised me. No questions at all.

"Finnigan!" At the sound of his name, the man jogged over. "Bring back Skalitz. We're going out there now."

"Sir!" The Corporal left, breaking into a sprint, hoping to asway himself of his Captain's wrath.

"Come on let's go," Miller took a step, before I interrupted him with a tug on his sleeve. He flinched, "What is it?"

"If I may," I crouched to the ground, grunting as I brought myself to the knee, and pointed at the concrete floor. "If you have the capability, chisel multiple holes in a row."

He watched on, mouth agape. I continued, "Your weapons can make the clearing, and so you're men can sit protected inside, loosing their pieces of metal upon any enemy climbing up the mountain from below."

At his still confused look, I grinned. "This is not the first fortress I've been in."


Cole - Back in the Prison

The minute the lights came back, and the morning had 'come', we went out to the garden with a bucket, and filled it with snow. Mikasa used the knife she was keeping to mix it with some water from her steel canteen.

Arbiter was right to move Dutch in with the cannibal. He was given a mattress, without the frame. "He's cowering close to the wall," Wrex chuckled as we approached the door. "Little Kaneki just won't stop staring."

At Wrex's go ahead, Mikasa personally rushed through the door, walking up to Dutch's lying form. He had his foot tied by a plastic chain to the leg of Kaneki's bed mattress, both ends padlocked.

She threw the bucket of ice at his face.

"Gah- Bitch!" He jumped up, eyes wide and enraged. His fists started swinging. He got one in her jaw, before a solid punch to the gut keeled him over.

I came in and pressed him down into the bed with Mikasa. Wrex came in and undid his ankle restraint with a key. With just one hand, Wrex effortlessly dragged him by the foot out of the room. That isn't to say Dutch didn't stop making trouble.

"Help me!" He screamed, grabbing onto whatever he could; the frame of the door, the pickets of the guard rail outside, and the red warpainted boots of Sev overwatching the move. The delta kicked away Dutch's hand.

Sully was outside his room having another smoke when this scene erupted. I glanced at him, and he averted his gaze. I breathed a sigh; he was horrified. Good. He's a gossip. Let the word spread.


Arbiter had gotten the Chief involved. If he was a little less gentle, he could've killed Dutch.

They strapped him to a chair with green ropes. Purple splotches started to coat his face, swelling his left eye. Pieces of a tooth were on his lap. And the Chief had only been slapping him with an open palm.

Luckily for Dutch, Arbiter was in charge. I'd have Chief go all the way, just to reinforce the message. But my job was just trying to understand what happened.

I sat some distance from him, notebook on my lap as always. Mikasa stood at my shoulder, silently observing. I needed her to have some sense of how this was gonna go down.

I started with his behavior leading up to the escape, "So, you caused quite a fight in the hours leading to your escape. Why was that?"

He made sure to glare through his bad eye, "Go to hell."

I moved on to past accomplices, "Did Blazkowicz sneak in? The Russian? Who broke you out, Dutch?"

He spat a glob of blood and saliva at me. I'm sure he was aiming a little higher than my knee. Chief's slap sounded like a punch. That smack against Dutch's cheek was for sure gonna create another bruise.

Arbiter was smart to make the Chief do this work. If he had done it, I likely wouldn't have been able to see him the same way ever again, and neither would anyone else. Everyone already expects the Chief to do this kind of violence.

"No one's coming to help you this time, Dutch." I tugged a piece of paper towel off a roll, and wiped the blood off my pants. "The two strongest people are here, in this room."

I waited for that to sink in. But all he did was laugh. "This make you feel useful?" He stirred up a bit. He raised his bruised and bleeding head from its slump. "Sitting there with your little pencil, going around like you're gonna reach the secrets of the universe?"

Chief slapped him twice. Palm and backhand. The swing of his arm was relaxed and loose, but Dutch's pained grunt was loud this time, and it attracted attention from outside.

"What's going on?" The muffled voice of the resident doctor and naive samaritan managed to pierce through the door. Elizabeth's knuckles rapped against it, demanding entry.

"Go away Elizabeth!" I turned a cheek towards the door. No distractions. "You don't need to hear this."

"Don't-" Dutch started to choke on the blood pooling in his mouth. "Don't want her to see…" He coughed some up on the collar of his shirt. "...To see what you are?"

An eye from me, and the Chief slapped him again.

"Damn it! Marcus! Marcus!"

"That's enough, Elizabeth." Arbiter himself had been standing in the corner, quietly overseeing it all. Chief had questioned the necessity of his presence, but Arbiter had said not being present would've made him look imperious. Only concerned about his public image.

"Yous!" Dutch started to slur his words. "You fweel shame! I know you- Ah!"

Mikasa lept from her spot at my shoulder and delivered a strong punch to the gut. Even the Chief was caught by surprise at the sound of a rib crunching under the single blow.

Marcus' heavy footsteps signaled his charge. I barely got out of my seat before the door came flying off the hinges with one hit. He fell from his sudden stop, but he landed on all fours with skill. He stood and leaned through the doorway, his upper back nearly touching the ceiling. "What's going on?"

"Enough!" Arbiter moved to block the view of Dutch. But he couldn't block out the sound of his gurgled coughs. "You stay out of this Marcus!"

"So… This is what you're doing?" The green monster actually sneered at the sight. "Barely a week, and you're already here. I thought the both of you would be better than these humans."

I raised my eyebrows at this 'superior being', glaring at the dark green tumors coming down his cheek.

"He's a murderer, Marcus," I tucked my book away, out of harm's way should anything happen. "And someone helped him."

He actually scoffed, "This has nothing to do with justice. Put him to the dirt already, if he's a problem. This is just torture."

Chief moved closer to Arbiter, further blocking Marcus' path to Dutch. "He has an accomplice."

"He won't tell you anything useful. He's concussed."

Elizabeth squeezed past Marcus, glaring hard at Chief. It softened as she saw the rest of us. "Why are you doing this?" I could tell she resisted a sneer at Arbiter, "Because you failed to get us out of here? What happened to 'never again'? Your promise?"

Dutch coughed out, "He can't keep it."

"I don't want to hear a word out of you either!" Elizabeth snapped at him, even through such a thin opening between Arbiter and the Chief.

Someone needed to put the nurse back in the hospital. I stood, and I nearly straightened my tie, until I realized it wasn't there. I glanced down at my chest, "They'll understand what we're doing."

The rube's sneer fell on me, "You tell yourself that." She didn't look away as she patted her henchmen's lower back, "Pick him up, Marcus."

A single foot forward and Chief had closed the distance. He passed Arbiter. Stood before the intruder that was a great deal taller than him. Two men- if you could call Marcus that- built like pillars. One was rock hard muscle, the other ice cold titanium.

I placed my bet on the steel man, and I wanted him to get it over with. But then, Arbiter had to do his job and stop what was about to happen.

"Let them take him."

I let out a breath of frustration. I was angry with Arbiter's appeasement, but a part of me was too... chickenshit to let things go anymore FUBAR. But all he did was put a bandaid on a gaping wound. I had to have my say, "We're not done with him, Elizabeth."

This time, she crossed the distance. She wore those piercing cool eyes like they were meant to puncture my poor soul, "You very much are, Mister Phelps."

Mikasa, in a show of brand new loyalty, jumped between Elizabeth and I. She spoke through the translator, "He's not your prisoner."

Elizabeth, the stubborn girl, didn't buckle under the breath length glare from Mikasa. "No, he's my patient."

Enough of this bullcrap. "Except you're not a Doctor, Miss Comstock." I pulled Mikasa back by the shoulder, "You're just some woman who's read about Doctors."

She visibly recoiled. "Do you hear yourself? What has gotten into you?"

Marcus had started moving through the opening Arbiter made for him. Mikasa moved to stop him, but Arbiter held a four-fingered hand to freeze her in her tracks. Before I could even protest, Marcus had used a hand to rip the ropes apart bit by bit. Dutch was too dazed for us to be worried about another escape. For the moment.

"Fix him however you can," Arbiter eyed Elizabeth, trying his best to keep a gentle gaze. "But we're coming back for him."

Marcus got Dutch up. His legs functioned like half-cooked noodles, but he still managed to stand. Elizabeth's nostrils flared. Her tone was prickly, "In the meantime, are you going to dig a ditch?"

That tone stabbed at Arbiter. There was now a razor sharp edge to his, "What?"

This time, she looked away. "The snow. It might be easy for you to stay on this side, but other people are wading through the snow to get back and forth."

Marcus managed to get Dutch before the door. He nods to Elizabeth to go out first. "And that blizzard is still blasting," she said, before walking out the door.

Marcus led Dutch out with firm grips around his arms and shoulders. I was surprised the abominable man didn't crush them. If he actually cared about Akane, he sure would be.

But Marcus turned back, and for a second, it seemed like he had heard that thought, staring at me. A second later, he was gone.

No one was happy that had happened. Chief wanted to crusade into the hospital and take charge. Arbiter calmed him, saying Marcus had Dutch in careful hands. One monster, to the other.

He broke up the group again. He took Chief with him to get to clearing a path in the snow. "Your task is the same, Cole," He tilted his head to me, a foot down the top of the stairs. "Get me the truth, whichever and whatever it may be. I'll help when I can."

Chief's golden visor showed my reflection, before he turned to follow Arbiter down the stairs. I became aware of the delta leader's presence when he cleared his throat.

This time, he wasn't standing at attention. Instead he leaned cross armed against a door. Not at his self-assigned post. He pointed a thumb back at the hospital, "Can see you showed Dutch what for, Cole."

He was informal, but he still wore that helmet. I mirrored his cross armed posture, "Why'd you assume it was me?"

"You and Akane seemed close." He unfolded and started moving closer to the rails. "Both law enforcement, both speaking the same language. You worked on Kaneki together."

Now he was getting closer to me. "If the language barrier hadn't been much of a problem, you'd have been teaming up on the interviews."

A single step away from my face, and all of a sudden I felt like I was on the other side of the table... When did the sergeant get a grudge against me?

I could only laugh. "Why do you care about Dutch?"

"He assaulted one of my men, incited a brawl, and killed one of us," He spoke with unamusement. He'd spent a lot of time dealing with indifferent officers. I could tell.

But he wasn't incapable of calling one out. Maybe he actually did throughout his career, maybe he was used to making the decisions...Or maybe he just doesn't see a chain here.

"I don't have all day to be studied, Cole." He took a step back, building some space between us. It felt like he was pulling back into cover.

Good soldier. I pointed at the direction he should've been paying attention to, "Just keep an eye on Comstock's Nursery."

"Comstock? You mean Elizabeth?"

He wasn't familiar with the name. What a surprise. "That's her name."

With that, I left. I could feel the lingering looks from the man on my back. Just do your damn job.


Miller - In the Mountain Base

I met up with Jenkins before setting out in the open. "I hear you got a squad out there?" The man nodded as his corporal kept an eye on the field with binoculars. "I think I'll go meet them."

When he asked what for, I just told him I felt like personally surveying the field. He took that as me just wanting to go on a walk out of the base again.

"Just take some sand in your pocket before you go out there," he said, climbing up from the small trench we had just started digging out. The brownings had already been moved there, with a defilade of sandbags surrounding the men manning it.

"What for, Lieutenant?" I asked, feigning a confused look.

He smiled at me, "for good luck, Captain."

Jenkins had one squad of twelve with him, so after making Took, Skalitz, and Finnigan stuff their pockets from a cut open sand bag, we set out with the squad. "Alright, Took," I said to the bearded old man. He was absorbing the scenery like a sponge again. "Lead us to it."

Jenkins stayed behind, crawling on his chest to watch the mountains far off. It wasn't his job, but he's always watching a vast empty section of hill on the mesa; a patch of burnt mountain trees, still charred and mangled by the green waves that pour through every few weeks to raid us, dumping molotovs like some kind of fiery parade of destruction.

That was where they were coming from, but it was just a hole above the colony.

Took had the reins, and led us through a snowy no man's land, passing body shaped craters in the earth. Big and small. Burning duty wasn't always a huge priority, especially with how much lugheads they threw at us, but then the smelly corpses had started attracting… things, after a week. We burn piles several dozen feet high, every raid.

At some point, we reached the end of the perimeter where no clean-up could possibly finish up in a couple of days. There were many mounds and hills made of corpses, from the recent warparty on top of the many that came before. Some bodies were already shriveling into husks. Others still had that look, that perpetual sneer the steins had.

Some of the medics said they always looked like dug up corpses that were pumped with industrial waste, with straps to keep their jaws from falling off so they could make decent soldiers. A lot of the more disgruntled and superstitious believed that was what a soldier's soul would turn into after a thousand years in hell.

"You know where you're going?" I asked our navigator. Took never seemed to scan his surroundings. It was like his head immediately knew where to go. "It pelted hard that day."

He slowed a little so we could walk beside each other. "Do you recognize the faces of your men?"

"Excuse me?"

"Their faces?" He nodded back at the squad, covering our flanks in a loose wedge formation. "Do you recognize them?"

I stared at him, not getting his meaning and half thinking he's insulting me.

"They're very dirty- covered in grime, dirt, and sand." His eyes seemed to have a shine to them. Like he was caught in a trance. "But you know their faces, and the names to put with them. And you recognize me even though you only saw me yesterday."

"Two days ago." I looked at the ground. Bullet casings clinked underneath my boots. "I saw your face two days ago, when you were unconscious."

He caught my arm and stopped me. "The ground has a face too, you know." He looked down at the spot I was staring at, "Can't you recognize it?"

I was a ranger. Of course I did. It's just that this face was regularly mutilated.

His smile faded into a frown, as his eyes fell on a blood stain the size of a carpet, fading into a soft pink in the snow. The land was more pitted around here, leftovers from one of the older Stein assaults. Back when they were smaller.

"Ah!" Took looked to the side and suddenly jolted towards a pit. "Here it is! Here!"

It was an old crater, left by mortar fire from the base when it was bigger, and we could sleep outside. It was filled with snow, but green hands sticking out marked the corpses buried underneath.

Took started digging away at it with his bare hands. "Ah let's see… Where is it…"

The men stood there, overlooking the old man dig away. They didn't feel the need to help, and I didn't feel like forcing them.

His excavation revealed two corpses. Those god ugly faces stared out. He spread out his search, wiping arms all through the snow. He should've been freezing cold by now…

He stopped when his hand hit something. A handle. "Ah!"

One tug, and out came one of those monster dogs the steins had. Startled rifles were pointed at the thing, before they saw the blade sticking through its skull.

"This-" Took had to use a foot to pull the blade out of the thick muscled dog- "Is mine."

"I don't think so." I waved for him to bring it to me. He didn't get permission from the quartermaster to wield a weapon, so he willingly passed it on.

It was well balanced. The blade was sitting in a corpse for a couple nights now, but the blade was still sharp enough to glide through pieces of cloth. It had writing on it that looked… Runic. Like something you'd see in a viking museum. I passed it to Finnigan, who wrapped it in a piece of cloth that was usually for bodies, carefully having the clean part touch the blade.

The dog had wisps of white hair in its mouth. Matched the missing portion in Took's beard. He pulled it out. But whatever he was looking for wasn't there, because eventually he was using all his strength to open the dead dog's jaw. "Come on! I know you didn't swallow it, because then I'll have to cut it out of your belly!"

He pulled the last of the hair out. "No...this can't be right… This isn't…"

Suddenly he's on his knees, forcing his hands through the snow. "Where is it?"

He pulled and grabbed a belt, filled with magazines and grenades. What would've been considered a jackpot to our scavengers. "Where is it!"

More digging. He grasped onto a rifle. He pulled it, and the strap carried with it a Stein laying on his side. Took had to jolt out of the way to avoid being crushed.

He was left grasping his own head, locks of long gray hair in both of his hands, "Where is-where is... It's not here."

Something made my stomach churn. Took, an old man who only yesterday saved us from utter destruction from creatures that could turn invisible, was on his knees, utterly devastated that something he had was lost.

Goddamnit. "Skalitz!" I pulled him away from the trance-like look he and the men were watching Took with. "Come down here and help search for these seeds."

"Seeds?" Finnigan pointed at Took with the blade. "We came out here for seeds?"

"Would you rather go out and face the sky, Corporal Finnigan?" I promptly reminded him of my presence.

That quieted him down; he could lie all he wanted, but this was gonna be far more interesting. Skalitz slid down into the crater to join Took, scraping through the snow. They searched and searched, flipping Steins on their backs and searching through their pockets.

Skalitz then flipped a snow-crusted body, lying face first into the edge of the crater. Blue skin met our eyes. It had a deep red fire axe embedded in its chest.

Skalitz took a step away from it, "Jesus..."

Finnigan clutched the sword in his hand. "Did we do that?" He asked me.

Something caught my eye. But it was the dead dog I moved for. Something was wrong with its mouth.

"It's teeth were torn right out." A huge section in the top front rows was missing. The last time I saw these things up close, those same teeth were the biggest.

I checked the spot it was pulled from. I dug out some of the snow to reach the dirt. I found an interesting shape. "There's an indent in the soil here." I shot a look at Took, "A knee sat here. Too big to be yours or even ours."

A very big one too. Something got down to rip out those teeth by hand. Then, my eye fell on the ripple man.

I moved towards him. But something felt off about the ground. I wiped away some snow to get at the dirt underneath. There were imprints, tightly packed. The same pattern of movement Steins would leave.

"There's been some focused activity here," I saw it now, twirling around before reaching the body. "There was a small group, maybe even just two."

The footsteps aren't even heading in a straight direction, they seemed to be caught in some kind of orbit. "They were attracted to something."

I finally reached the ripple man. I said the most obvious thing, "A man isn't strong enough to cut through a Stein."

I continued, "Steins have grips of iron, even in death." Men who were out on looting duty had to bring hammers for the steins. One look at the mangled appendage confirmed it. "They had to break his hand open to get what they wanted."

A little different detail though, "Fingers were bent apart, not smashed. They broke it by ripping it apart with their bare hands."

A private gagged. "Fucking christ."

The implication that the Steins did this to their own was loud, although it was clear that they just enjoyed the act of hating the Steins. "Why the hell would they do this?" Skalitz' nostrils flared in disgust.

For an answer to that question, eyes fell on Took. But for once, there was an uncertainty in his eyes, this time around. "... If you'd seen the seeds with your own eyes, you'd know that they were precious."

That was all I needed to make a guess. "They took your seeds, Took."

I faced the direction they came from, the part of the half-mesa mountains that went south, then east, then back north. I muttered, "All the way home…"

"We have to go get them." The words out of Took were more command than request. "The seeds cannot stay in their foul hands."

"The path they took is densely guarded." I remember the first time the rangers tried to actually go on the offensive with the steins. The tunnels that led to their base were a cramped maze, one could barely point a rifle. And the Steins were built like bears, so they dominated hand-to-hand. "We've already tried pushing through twice, but it never worked."

Took wasn't giving up. "What about climbing the mountains, overhead? I can show you how."

Of course that was the first thing we tried, but the north arch of the large ring of mountains was impossible to climb. Every squad had been knocked off the extreme slopes, every step a trigger for a worse and worse avalanche, and it was like the wind was always trying to push us off…

I shook my head, "Over the mountain is dangerous, can't keep a solid footing even for a second. And it's not for a lack of mountain climbing experience."

The rangers couldn't pull it off, and the engineers couldn't provide good enough gear. It was safe to say that not even the steins or the ripple men. They relied on a single cave entrance, on the southeast side of the mountains.

I had hoped Took wasn't going to say it, but he did. "Then through?"

"Shut up!"

"Don't say shit like that."

"Piss off!"

"You listening to this jack off, Captain?"

Finnigan and the other men sneered at Took. Skalitz could only look away. I held a hand to quiet the men, "We've tried that. Not only is it a maze down there-"

"There's not a chance in hell we're going through the tunnels again." Finnigan ignored my looks at his interruption. "Not to get goddamn seeds!"

"...I can go then." Took reached down and grabbed a rifle that was buried in the snow. Just as our fingers reached for our triggers at what he might have done with it next, he planted the barrel in the ground. He wielded like a walking stick. "I'll brave what you're all too afraid to go through."

Despite the old man's silly appearance, Finnigan took that insult personally, "You'll never make it, you old fart."

"Maybe, but I must try. Even if I die, I must try." Took's words reminded me of someone I once knew. A ranger corporal, dehydrated and exhausted, once walked into our camp in Salerno, Italy. Said he was trying to deliver intel from brigade command in Tunisia, across the tyrrhenian sea, to forces moving north up italy.

That wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Intel was always passing the lines. But this man got in our truck the moment he could. All he grabbed to eat was water and a loaf of bread.

A week later, it turned out the Germans were planning an ambush. A false retreat. Allied forces would've lost hundreds of men in the push.

"Can you believe this man!" Finnigan looked at me, expecting some kind of answer to Took's brashness. But a look in the men's eyes showed that they too knew something wasn't right. That Took wasn't wrong.

"A Stein just killed another to get those seeds." Eyes fell on me. Even Finnigan went quiet. I brushed a hand against the spiky stubble on my chin, and looked back to the base. That's when I realized that the rest of Jenkin's patrol was actually far behind us. "But what happens next isn't up for me to decide."


We took everyone back, and I returned Jenkin's men to him. When he asked what we found, I could only shrug. "Nothing you'd ever expect."

He chuckled, "Sounds about Took."

Finnigan and Skalitz took off with Took, who protested when I had him sent back to his room. Didn't want him sneaking out to get those seeds…

Meanwhile, I decided to visit Doyle. He was an engineer, so I expected him to have some answers about Took's sword...

"Did you polish this thing?" Bullets clattered in repurposed helmet bows behind Doyle's back. He stared down the length of the blade with one eye, "It's like it's fresh off the anvil. It's well tempered too."

He inspected the edges of the blade with a finger. The sound of the skin on his fingertips brushing against it was vibrant, almost like an instrument. "This thing is so sharp it could cut through glass. Runes etched into the crossguard-" he tapped the symbols-"if the crossguard wasn't too big, I'd say vikings made this thing."

Sounds about Took, Jenkin's words echoed.

A smile actually dared to touch my face, "History teacher, huh?"

Doyle pointed at me with the tip of the blade, "Haven't figured me yet, Miller." He spun it so that the handle was facing me, "Where'd you get this thing?"

"Out in the field." I found the handle back in my hand, and I rewrapped it in a fresh scrap shirt as glances started coming from the corners of the room. Best I don't put any more eyes on Took. "Spoils of war."

It wasn't the hardest thing to believe. A look of wonder overcame Doyle, "Invisible steins with swords…"

That'll probably feed the rumor mill among the engineers. I took the sword with me and went around looking for Anderson. Asking around, my journey through the halls brought me to a ladder. It led upwards with a long dark tunnel.

I climbed up it, boots banging loudly against the steel steps. Eventually, I reached a hatch in the ceiling. I had to reach up with both hands to spin its wheel open, rotating with my whole torso.

The Lieutenant Colonel had taken a chair in a sandbag pit outside above the mound of the formerly abandoned bunker. Sun was setting and the wind had disappeared, the camo netting as still as ice. I closed the hatch after climbing out.

This part of the base had the highest view. It overlooked the portions of the island we had explored; the beaches where the troopships reared up on, permanently crippled, the forests where the battalions foraged for food, and the torn-up brown scar in the grasslands- where we had first encountered the Steins. Grass had already started to grow back from the bloodsoaked mud.

"Seventeen months, John." I grabbed a seat by Anderson. He had a cigar in his mouth, his private stash. Finite. I knew that meant he wasn't doing too well. He puffed out a plume, "A goddamn year and a half. The war could've ended without us, for all we know."

There wasn't a single day where someone wasn't worrying about home. "We were close, sir."

"Not without that beach, we weren't." He took a deep puff and let out smoke with each word, "And close to three thousand men up and disappeared before the operation could even launch. Who knows what effect losing us had on the regimentals?"

I leaned back. I had conversations like this with other captains. That beach really was our only entry into the rest of Europe. "They've still had a good forty thousand and airborne." I felt an unease all of a sudden. Anderson seemed unattentive, gazing out into the falling sun. "Sir-"

"What I'm about to say, isn't for anyone else to hear John." He plucked his cigar out of the corner of his lips, and leaned closer towards me. He didn't want his voice to carry. "If someone does hear about it, it's only rumors and not me who said it."

I nodded. And leaned forward as well.

Anderson's voice rustled like a leaf. "The next attack is it."

My hand clenched my right knee. This was not something I needed to hear, but something Anderson needed to say. "I know you know it too, John."

As a ranger, our job was to survey territories and enemy bases. Italian. Japanese. German. We'd find faults wherever we could- a supply line that relies too much on a single road. Munition depots that weren't far enough away from the men in their bunks. How good and how bad the enemy's defenses were, all to get ready for a raid.

You pick up an eye for the unlucky, and right now I didn't like what I saw in the mirror. Even Anderson, the man himself, was starting to smell like the rest of us: shipwrecked and cut off from our country.

"The arsenal is shrinking by the day. Our bullet presses can't keep up with the demand." He eyed the empty pit in the sandbag encampment, "And we're down to our last salvo of shells."

I turned my head to the other pits surrounding us. One still had a steel barrel jutting out of it. "What about Big Norman?"

Confused, Anderson followed my eyes. His expression softened, and he let out a hearty laugh. "I forgot the men were calling it that. That howitzer has enough to stop one more attack." But then, he deflated. "But what about the next?"

I sighed, "So it's really the attack after the next."

Anderson nodded. The Steins bested humans- in strength, endurance, and resilience. Intelligence was their weak point; they were as dumb as chimpanzees. But there was something off. Everytime they pushed, they were always evenly supplied. Almost always the same numbers. Rumors spun through the men, across all the battalions and all the ranks. They either made Steins in a factory, or there was a city hiding in the mountains…

Whatever it was, as long as it existed, the Steins would keep coming.

In that awful silence between me and Anderson, I gripped onto the only hope that had arrived in the past year. I took a breath and kept my expression flat, "Took says he can navigate the tunnels."

That cigar went flying out of his mouth, his eyes locked on mine. "He's been down there?"

This would be the first lie I've given a superior. I nodded, "Yes, he says he went through there a week ago. He didn't know what he was getting into, but managed to find the other side. Some Steins stole something important from him, and he wants it back."

I gulped under Anderson's stare. It was far from perfect. Full of holes. Why then, would he end up in front of our doorstep? Why so far away from the Stein base, where this important item was supposedly stolen? Even if it works, will their base be in range? The colonel was sure to ask. He looked like he wanted to.

But then he just… Breathed. His gaze fell to the layer of dirt the legs of our chairs were digging into. "Then it has to be him. If he knows how to move through the tunnels and still get to point A, we have a shot." My eyes widened as I saw Lieutenant Colonel Anderson start planning out the journey. "He's gonna need an escort. Now I won't order-"

"I'll tell the men, sir." The escort needed to be my choice. I've already singled out a dozen or so that will trust Took. "I'll try to get at least six, before we start making our-"

"Six?" Anderson's eyes glanced at the no man's land in front of the base, where lights continue speaking in morse code to each other in the fading sunlight. "Go try Price and Kelly's companies, too. Get me at least thirty men."

That order nearly sent me falling on my back. He wanted a whole platoon…


Cole - In the Prison

That blizzard barely took the cake of strangest things here. It was like you were on a mountaintop.

My legs dropped the full length of its calves into the snow. Only Arbiter and the Chief were unmoved by the tidal winds and knee-deep snow; Mikasa and I fumbled our way to the warehouse. The two couldn't even hear us shouting for their help.

"That trench is gonna need constant maintenance," Mikasa dropped the translator with a tap on the implant on her neck. "If this snow keeps up, we aren't gonna see them for a while."

A couple others in the snow were passing by; Fixer, the green striped clone, on some kind of patrol pattern, trying his best to move through the snow. Ellie was also there, holding tight onto that backpack of hers. She averted her gaze and shielded her face from the falling snow. My eyes tailed her, even when she had become just a gray blur; It looked like she was heading for the wing we came from.

"They're gonna be in the center of it all. We find a way to reach them, they'll reach the danger faster," I said, shrugging off my curiosity.

"If we reach them," Mikasa corrected, her own eyes lingering on the young girl.

Upon getting through the door to storage, we kicked our shoes and boots on the ground to lose more of the snow. Toes had already started going numb, and my dress shoes were starting to get wrecked.

We went for the terminal, that machine that shows our inventory, searching through it. "There's got to be something here…" It felt like I was grasping at straws. I noticed Mikasa's confused look, "For the weather. Some blankets, or even hats…"

I fell upon a row labeled winter attire.

"Look at this." I showed her the screen, assuming the translator worked with written english. "They gave us clothes for winter. What happened in the garden was not something that happened on a whim."

"I already guessed that," Mikasa just shrugged, "It takes resources to make it snow. It's not a surprise they would plan it."

"Yeah but why?" I pressed the symbol for the crate, making the extracting arms whir to life. "Why plan this? What do they gain from it?"

Mikasa only responded with silence.

The mechanical arm rested the crate on the ground, and we dug through it with the crowbars left for opening it. In it, we found coats, winter pants, and boots. A pile grew before we found what fit. She grabbed a strange, slippery black coat. Something from a time beyond mine. I grabbed something familiar; a gray wool long coat.

"If Scorch was drugged," Mikasa played with the strange fuzzy parts on the sleeve. "Do you think the drugs originated from here?"

I considered that, and turned towards the terminal. I found an entire shelf devoted to medicinal materials, and it was full of empty spots. Mikasa followed my eye, and took the initiative.

She went for the shelf, and began planting her feet on the bottom shelves. "What are you doing?" I asked, my feet feeling indecisive; they wanted to follow her.

"These crates aren't easily closed," She said, as she started ascending to the highest shelf. "If someone took something, it'd be simpler to pull out the tampered crates."

She was right. She found multiple crates already opened and put back… at the very top shelf. The arm couldn't do that; we needed the Chief to put crates back up on even the lower shelves. She pointed them out to me, and the mechanical arm managed to pull them off, one by one.

We found long bins lined with pill bottles, all plastic. They were covered in writing; drug names, dosage per pill, number of pills, potential functions of the drug. I read through them, and Mikasa brought them close to her glowing yellow eyes; whatever that incredible translator showed her, she was in awe of.

"There's a lot of sedatives," I said, eyes falling on a bottle of rohypnol. "Why would we…"

More and more additions that didn't make sense. I wrote them down in my notebook.

"Let's finish off these interviews," I told Mikasa, who nodded in agreement. Maybe that Clarke fella can explain the snow? I grabbed the coat and hung it over my elbow, Mikasa already stuffing her arms into the sleeves of hers.

My eyes fell on a far, tucked away corner of the warehouse; Mr Glass' workshop had a tarp covered over it. I considered looking underneath it, but shook my head; he couldn't possibly be a person of interest. He'd be lucky to even get back over here without breaking a limb in the garden.

We left storage.


Arbiter and the Chief had quickly set up a trenched pathway, and this time our legs didn't get buried. I could barely see them, digging out another pathway, to the exit sign it looked like. What would've been the point?

We followed the path down the middle to the living quarters on the other side. "Where's all this snow coming from?" Mikasa shouted, wrapping her coat around her torso, although it seemed to have a zipper up the middle.

I raised my coat's collar to cover my neck and cheeks. "They'd have to have a lake full of water to make all this snow," I said, picturing a silo or tower of water slowly emptying with every minute it snows.

We passed Nora. Her orange jumpsuit must've been bad with the thermals, because she had wrapped herself in a blanket to protect against the cold. She eyed our new get out. "Where did you get that?" She shouted through the wind.

"In storage!" I answered in English, pointing at where we came from. She didn't say anymore, and walked off.

"She doesn't say much." Mikasa noted; with the translator, she technically just met Nora for the first time.

I turned back for the door, "She's mostly kept to herself. Like many others."

We escaped the snow once more, and started strolling through the hallway leading to the tiers. I switched back to English. "We can't be gentle now," My voice echoed through the long dark gray hall, "They've been upfront with the surface details, but so much has been left unsaid."

"There's no reason to be gentle with anyone." The translator picked up on the switch. Her own voice uncannily came out with perfect English, but out of sync with her mouth, "They've already committed acts of violence against each other. That their deaths weren't permanent doesn't change that."

I stopped in my tracks. "How did you die?" I asked. It's the one question I've avoided.

She just kept walking towards the door, never bothering to face me. "I didn't," she simply said.

I squeezed my lips, unsatisfied.

Our entry was met by the silent glares of people. Nate was on a stool, seemingly on some self designated sentry duty. Jack was outside her room, as usual, hanging out with Chloe.

I did a quick head count, and noticed some missing. "Hey Jack!" The bald convict tilted an ear towards me, "Where's Ripley?"

"Hiding in her room, too sad and blue to do anything." She scoffed, "Like she was any use to begin with."

That still left three more, "And the others?"

Jack just shrugged. "Echo straight up disappeared." Chloe ended up answering, "Everyone else is hiding in their rooms, catching some sleep, probably. Scorch was on watch, but he just got rotated out."

I nodded at her. Jack just sucked her teeth at me and glared at Chloe.

I trudged up the stairs on the other side. I thought I'd visit our other engineer. "Isaac Clarke!" Four knocks, as loud as I could manage, "Open up! We need to talk!"

"Come back later. I can't talk right now." Clarke's voice muffled through the door. Nope, I wasn't having this bullshit right now.

"We need into that room-" I said to Mikasa. She interrupted when she put me aside with a hand, and shot a foot into the door.

It took a second kick to take it down. She was halfway through the doorway, when a blue membrane engulfed her. It froze her solid, mid step.

"Mikasa!" My breath nearly voided out of my lungs at the sight.

"Stay the hell back!" Isaac was there in front of her, aiming his hand at me. The strange act stopped me in my charge.

"What did you do to her?!" I demanded, moving forward.

Clarke grabbed a chair and broke a leg off with a heavy stomp of his foot. A sphere of white energy formed around his hand, and suddenly the leg was in the air, aimed at me.

"Back off or this goes right through your skull!" He sneered, before his face disappeared into his unfolding steel helmet.

The blue membrane lasted only a couple more seconds. Then Mikasa was free, already launching a kick into the forearm holding the chair leg.

We rushed him, and he flicked his wrist. The chair leg shot through his junk covered table like a cannonball, spraying the spot with a brown soup of canned carrots and potatoes. The sphere vibrated in and out of existence; it was clear he was trying to grab something else with it.

A metal piece on his arm emitted the glow. My hands reached for it as Mikasa gripped onto his windpipe underneath his helmet, and pried it loose from the sockets in his sleeve. The sphere sapped, disappearing from existence.

"Let go of me!" He demanded. Mikasa responded by smashing one of his hands into the floor. I sent a punch into his solar plexus, causing him to keel over, his spine glowing green.

We stopped when he raised his hands in surrender, staring at us through that blue visor.

Delta squad had acquired plastic restraints from storage. After showing me how they worked, I started keeping some in my pocket. Clarke was pushed chest first to the ground, the zip ties came out and Clarke's hands were restrained behind his back.

It took a second before my eyes suddenly found themselves glued to the wall beside his bed; he had been writing on it, with a black charcoal crayon. I looked at Mikasa, "Can you translate that?"

She stopped for a second, planting a boot onto Clarke's shoulder, and stared at the wall. Those eyes glowed yellow… until it flashed a red. "It can't read it at all."

Clarke could only glare silently into the ground, green and yellow lights flashing on his back. I stared at the strange device in my hand. What would've happened if I had died again, I wondered briefly. I pulled myself away to face the matter at hand.

"Because of that stunt you just pulled," We picked him up onto his feet by the elbows, "You're going into one of Wrex's rooms."

"I'm not going anywhere near that freak!" He tried falling to his knees, uncooperating.

"Get up." Mikasa sent a fist into his back. The hit smacked like stone against leather. It definitely sent some breath out of his lungs, and the light on his spine seemed to shorten an inch.

We got him back on his feet, but Nate was waiting just outside Clarke's room. "What the hell are you doing?" By this point, Clarke was audibly breathing in ragged breaths, each inhalation a strained whistle. Nate fumed, "He was just minding his own business, Cole!"

"Get out of my face, Nate." I glanced at Mikasa. "You saw what he did."

"You're serious?" His foot moved to block our pathway, "I saw you break his door down- everyone here did!"

Jack had stood up and leaned on the rail across from us. The smile in her eyes told me it was drama that caught her attention. "I didn't like him anyway."

"Dude's a creep!" Chloe chimed in, the delinquent likely following the convict's lead. "It'd make sense why they kicked his door down."

"Cole." I made sharp eye contact with Nate, who had taken on a softer expression. "Are you really that broken up over losing Akane? You only knew her for three days."

My tone had an edge that could cut through glass, "Is there a reason you want us to stop asking questions, Nate?"

"He just wants you to stop acting with impunity." His ex-wife had answered, the woman returning from storage in a fur coat, the straps of a duffel bag around her shoulder. I couldn't help but eye the bag.

"Thanks Nora," He looked at her with a softer expression. He turned back to say something when she interrupted.

"Doesn't mean he's right though." She reached her door on the bottom level across. "Extreme situations, extreme solutions."

Nate twisted his head and shouted, "Not helping!"

She took a step into her room, but she stopped and faced Nate one last time. Then she slammed the door shut, the meaning of the look she gave lost on me.

"What's going on here?" Sev arrived from the garden, suit covered in snow. He had been guarding Kaneki and Dutch, so that must mean Scorch had hopped onto jailer duty with Wrex.

"Clarke's attacking people," Chloe, of all people, tattled. Jack didn't like that, by the looks of the glare she shot her.

Sev, likely not taking the punk at her word, turned his head, likely to ask me… "Nate?" He said, blindsiding me.

Clarke shook in our arms. Nate shot a glare at me as he spoke, "They kicked his door in and forced him out."

Sev sighed. "Clarke?" The man got on his feet to get a better look, our hands still gripping him. "If they let you go, what's gonna happen?"

"He has weapons, Sev." I held the device he had up in the air, careful to keep fingers off any buttons, and pointed it to the ceiling. "Not garage tools and kitchen knives. Weapons." I pointed, "He froze Mikasa!"

"Thought he was a biotic for a second," Jack commented, looking at the back of her hand.

"It's a tool-" Clarke broke out a cough mid sentence. He inhaled sharply, but spoke softer, "... It's a tool, not a weapon…"

"What the fuck's happening now?" Franklin slammed his door upon walking out his room, likely having attempted to ignore the commotion.

Nate told Franklin what happened. The man started shouting expletives at me, some of which I couldn't make heads or tails out of. Jack similarly traded words with him, actually siding with me.

"You got him?" Mikasa asked me, before turning her translator back on. I nodded; she had lost her patience.

She let go of Clarke. She stepped up close to Nate, glaring into his forehead. "Are you gonna let us pass?"

Nate's eyes were soft. But his voice was firm, "I don't think so."

"Nate." Sev looked like he was ready to jump up to the second level and step in between the brewing brawl, "Just let them take him to a room to cool down."

"You mean beat him?" Nate shouted it. Now he was clearly making a show of it. "Scorch was bragging about what you were doing with Dutch."

My jaw clenched. This isn't normal behavior; he's involved somehow. "I recall Dutch giving you and Sully a beat down. Why are you sympathizing with a murderer?" That last part seemed to stun him.

Franklin then spoke up, shaking his head, "Even if the guy is a killer, I don't know you." He motioned to his current residence, "How can I trust you're not just gonna start breaking down my door? Brutalize me?"

Jack blew a raspberry, "Why wouldn't he? Aren't you some kind of thug?"

"Fuck off, skinhead."

"Up yours, earth rat." That reply got a confused glare from Franklin.

"What? What did you do this time?" Sev had started talking, but clearly through whatever futuristic radio system he had in his helmet.

Nate pleaded, but he was inching dangerously close. "Just let him go, Cole."

I needed Sev to back me up. But his attention was elsewhere, "Hang on, I'm on my way. I'll get Arbiter."

I pocketed Clarke's device, "I'm keeping this." I reared a palm and shoved Clarke back into his room; let him figure out how to get those ties off. We gave Nate an opening for Clarke after we charged after the clone.

Sev had already left for the garden before Mikasa and I ran down the stairs. Time to see what the commotion was.

Franklin just stared dumbfounded. "What- what the fuck else now?!"

Jack told Chloe to stay before trailing behind us. Nate helped Clarke get out of his ties, and shouted for Franklin to get Joel out of his room.


We rushed out into the garden, trudging through the already disappearing pathway Arbiter and the Chief made. We followed Sev's fresh footprints to the other wing. Getting through the hallway, we were hit with a strong whiff of smoke.

An entire room had been set on fire.

Flames lit the hall as a pillar of smoke climbed out the door. Arbiter and Chief rushed by like legged automotives, empty buckets in hands. Kara and Jaime came out of the rooms beside it with buckets full of water.

Mikasa and I headed towards the two. "What happened?" I asked.

"Someone set the bed on fire!" Kara answered, lunging forward with the bucket, launching water into the room. The fire sprouted from a massive patch in the center of the mattress, blackening it as it continued spreading. The flames converged into one large head that grew taller by the minute.

"That's not all." Jaime used his good arm to hold his bucket, while his golden hand pointed up and behind, "Look!"

On the levels above, Scorch and Sev surrounded a door- the cell Kaneki was being held in. Wrex was smashing into it with his shoulder. My face went pale; Kaneki is up to something now.

I looked at my new partner. Mikasa could handle herself, unlike-

The frame around the bed exploded. It released sizzling gushes of fire and matter. My hand covered my eyes; just in time for a molten hot piece to embed itself into my palm. I recoiled into cover, the hit blazing hot.

It was like someone had set fire to an ammo dump.

"What in the seven hells…" Jaime's eyes went wide, before Kara pushed into him with her shoulder, clearing him from the pathway of the shards that flew out of the room, smoke trailing behind them.

We could hear it spreading, what must've been the bookshelf and the table erupting as well. Shards now rained down, littering the ground in front of the door with sizzling pieces. Wrex and the delta's noticed the commotion, and Wrex launched into the air now with each charge of the door.

"How do we put it out?" Mikasa asked, looking at me with an expression between disbelief and horror. Could the same thing happen to the door? Would it reach the other rooms?

Chief and Arbiter returned, covered in snow while holding buckets brimming with the stuff. "What happened?" The Master Chief stared at the situation in confusion. "Why is it…"

Our dumbfounded looks told him they weren't getting an answer. They stood in front of the door, shards pelting what must've been some kind of shield around their bodies, saving them from the worst damage. They charged in.

He and Arbiter provided cover for us to watch from behind. They dumped their buckets into the fire, to no effect. Chief shouted, "We've gotta close the door, let whatever this is die down!"

We pulled further away, me instinctively reaching for my nonexistent holster… Clarke's device! I pulled the metal thing out of my jacket pocket. It had a strap attached to it, and so I tied it around my hand.

I held my hand out like I was gripping the air, and pointed it at a shovel that had been used for the garden. It lit up, a translucent bubble formed around the shovel, and all of a sudden I was lifting it in the air. Letting go of the tiny switch dropped it. That was all I needed to know.

There was an empty crate in the hallway, which had been filled with packs of food. I latched onto it with the device, and carried it to the garden. Mikasa and Chief followed me, and when I put it down in the blizzard, we began shoveling snow into it. We filled it up till it carried a massive pile.

"I hope this works," I said, taking aim with the device and lighting. But then it stopped its build up. It fizzled, and died.

"Come on!" I hit it. It struggled to maintain power. "It's not working!"

Chief reacted by dropping down to the crate, engulfing it in a bear hug. He then started to raise his feet, and what must've been hundreds of pounds was lifted up. "Let's go!"

We opened the entrance for him, letting him sprint through with the crate.

When we got back, the door was closed, but thick trails of smoke were leaking out from the gaps. Arbiter saw us and pulled it open, and a cloud of shards engulfed his entire body.

Chief rushed for them, and lunged out a leg as he twisted with his whole body, letting go of the crate into the room. It shattered against the concrete wall above the bed frame, pouring snow onto the worst of the fires.

A shadow overtook the room as most of the flames were smothered by the massive load, white particles mixing with the gray ash that had been piling on the floor. A smell of burning plastic pervaded the air still, and a giant black scorch mark had permanently stained the floor in the room and various spots out the door. Nothing was left of the shards that had been launched everywhere.

Arbiter eyed the device I had tried to use. "What is that?"

"Isaac Clarke had been holding out on us," I said, handing the device to him. "He attacked Mikasa with it."

"Son of a pyjak!" The door to Kaneki and Dutch's cell had been smashed open, the Deltas and Wrex struggling with someone inside. "Get up you little welp!"

I clenched my fists. Arbiter, Chief, Jaime, and Mikasa formed a loose formation, ready to charge if any of the prisoners tried anything. Kara had rushed off to Sully's room, the man at the door, having watched the whole situation from afar and not intervening. I grit my teeth; not even Elizabeth and Marcus bothered to check on the ruckus…

"Let go of me you fucking crocodile!" Out came Wrex, dragging that young girl, Ellie, out by her elbow. There was a large bloody wound on her cheek, shaped like an apple.

We all traded confused looks, until Scorch came out, and reported to Arbiter, "She tried to kill Kaneki."

I glared holes into the guard; this had happened right as he was put on shift.

"Don't look at me like that." Scorch pressed his chest in a mock look of being hurt, "I saw her break the lock with a crowbar, even after dealing with that mother of a fire."

My head swiveled back to the blackened and charred room. That was the point of the fire; it was a distraction. Ellie had set it to gain access to the cell. But why?

Arbiter's voice cracked like a whip, "Why did you do this?!" He was at a complete loss. He pointed at the burnt room, "Did you plant explosives?!"

Ellie shook her head, glaring at the alien with contempt. "Why are you protecting that fucking cannibal?" She tried to rip her arm away from Wrex, "Fucker took a bite out of me- gah!"

Wrex had produced a piece of gauze from the pockets in his armor, and forced it on her face to stop the bleeding, far away from being gentle. "Your own stupid mistake."

"Saving all that medigel, Wrex?" Jack intoned, and I raised an eyebrow at her sudden presence. She had followed us, and rather than help, found a wall to lean on. Psycho likely enjoyed the sight of fire.

Kaneki came out of the darkness behind Wrex, the white haired cannibal's eye turned into that black and red color. He could barely walk a day ago.

Many of us who saw him held onto our breaths. Wrex tilted his head slightly. "Don't try it," He said, his voice device shifted into japanese.

"She smells like the other woman. The other Japanese." Kaneki spoke, my eyes widening. He pointed at Ellie, "She was covered in her blood."

Wrex punched him by his shoulder into the door frame, "Be quiet!"

"What did you say?" I said. I looked up at Ellie's face. She was staring right at me, but found it hard not to look at the floor. I shouted at her with a razor sharp tone, "What did you do?!"

That was then that finally, and conveniently for Ellie, Joel arrived with Nate and Franklin in tow. They filed out the door, Nate with a pipe, Franklin with an improvised kitchen knife spear, and Joel with a frighteningly brutal looking crowbar with two blades thickly taped to one side. They were ready for a fight.

"Joel!" Ellie called out for her scanning guardian.

Joel's eyes locked onto Wrex. "Get your hands off of her!"

Ellie tried to pry herself loose. Wrex shook her whole body with one arm, "Why don't you show him what you did?"

That action sent a look of terror through Joel's eyes, "You're gonna rip her goddamn arm off! Let go of her!"

He was ready to charge up, when Chief covered the stairs. "You are not going up there," he said matter of factly. Joel's eyes were steady, but Nate and Franklin's eyes were calculating their odds.

Scorch and Sev moved down the stairs. "Don't you do anything," Scorch eyed the Chief through his bluelit visor, moving himself along with Sev between Chief and the agitated group. "We can handle this."

I clenched the device in my hand, and eyed the empty, heavy crate. But surely, the Chief could take all three of them. "What did you say?" I shouted up in Japanese, eager for confirmation. "Kaneki, what did you say?"

Kaneki had never bothered standing after being punched to the ground. He shouted, Ellie's fresh blood spitting from his mouth, "The Chiba lady's blood was all over her!"

"What the hell are they even-" Joel was interrupted when Wrex lifted her feet off the ground. He almost pleaded, "Stop Wrex!"

I leveled my eyes with her, "He's saying you're covered in Akane's blood."

Ellie's eyes were panicky, darting all over the room, her hand still pushing onto Wrex's torso, "What?"

"He says he smells it all over you."

It took a couple looks before understanding fell on Joel's face. His look hardened, and he pointed his crowbar at Kaneki, "He's lying. Ellie didn't have anything against Akane."

"She did, Joel." Arbiter's look was hard. His tone, cold. He knew there was a motive. In just less than an half an hour, Ellie had become a suspect with a motive.

"That was all in the past!" Joel protested. But Nate and Franklin were lowering their weapons; I was unsure if it was because they were starting to believe Ellie's involvement, or if they knew they couldn't take all of us.

"Is it with you, Ellie?" Arbiter asks, those shiny gold eyes looking up at her.

Ellie seemed to size Arbiter before hardening her face. "Go to hell you freak."

Arbiter gave the collected crowd a once over. Jaime stood close beside Mikasa, like he was aiming to protect her against whatever was going to happen. He eyed Chief and the two deltas, who formed a sturdy blockade against Joel, his own eyes leveled against Chief, nostrils flaring.

Then Arbiter eyed me. The thoughtful look he gave me… He could tell I wasn't going to give this line up.

He looked up, Wrex having seemingly waited for him to make the decision. The aliens had clearly made some sort of pact…

"Lock her up."

Joel's face settled on rage. "You can't do this! You all saw Dutch, we already knew it was him!"

Finally, he took the first foot forward. My legs braced, a second after the delta's braced theirs. Chief, that impassable barrier, stepped forward calmly. Nate was the first to grab onto Joel's elbow.

Confusion wiped the expression off Joel's face, before being replaced by outrage. "Let me go!"

"Joel, don't." Nate held Joel in place as he struggled, Franklin dropping his spear to grab the other arm. Nate locked eyes with Joel, "We can't."

Between struggling with those two, Joel eyed the room one more time. He deflated. Joel and Ellie locked eyes as she was taken to another room. "Get in there!" Wrex practically threw her in, before slamming the door shut. Jaime left to grab a new lock for it, a small stockpile built up in Wrex's room.

Franklin patted the shoulder of a quietly boiling Joel. "Not today, man. Not today."


Miller - In the Mountain Base

Anderson had the quartermaster stock us up- reisings and springfields. Colt revolvers and pistols in case we get claustrophobic. Plus, a special surprise the boys were not gonna like…

I picked out the important men in the platoon; Sergeants Bryce and Jackson, to maintain the front and the rear of the column. Corporals Skalitz, Finnigan, and Joyce, to keep everyone in shape. They in turn either recruited volunteers, or ordered others to fall into formation.

By the time we assembled in the hallway outside the supply room, we were 23 men strong, including me and Took. Conversation and chatter deafened the small hall, the men getting their last light banters before what they knew was a debrief for an important mission. I gave them five minutes before I rounded them all up, and brought them to a table inside the supply room, surrounded by shelves full of foraged fruits and dried meats.

"Alright, gather around, gather around." My helmet was already on my head, and so I tapped the symbol on its forehead, earning some laughter, "Eyes on the two silver bars, gentlemen. In the last few days, we've been on the defensive. They've been coming to our little hole and banging on the door for some time, and it's time we knocked on theirs."

"Damn right sir!" Jackson was ready to finally make our move, his personal rifle slung behind his back.

"Our mission is special reconnaissance." Mapping the geography was difficult without airplanes, but we managed to sketch out something with our patrols. "We're finding their base of operations, pinpointing priority targets, and marking them for Big Norman."

Details about the Steins were extremely vague. It's why our orders were essentially 'find anything important and blow it up'. Took begged a question I was expecting from him, "Big Norman?"

"Big Norman, an M1918 155 millimeter Howitzer, courtesy of the french." There were cheers at that; the one time we used it against the steins, we absolutely mopped the floor with them. "Likely we won't know where we are when we come out the other end, so we're gonna be using flares to signal the artillery observers. Our intel is that the stein base is in the mountains, but they're out in the open."

About a month ago, the base had tried to rally a push through the tunnel the steins had set an outpost around. That was where they were coming from. It was more heavily armed than their war parties.

We didn't stand a chance. They had taken no prisoners. But a ranger had played dead, with a radio pack on his person.

They had actually picked the man up and loaded him onto railcars with the bodies of the dead; humans and steins. He crawled underneath the bodies, and reported what he found to Anderson. He whispered over the radio, talking of heavy arms and rockets. He saw their base, the sky above, surrounded by the rocky mountain.

The last thing he reported was a room where they were butchering corpses. Then there was only silence, for the longest time.

"Are we bringing Big Norman with us?" Took asked, eyes scanning the room. Men bursted out laughing, amused at such a stupid question.

"Big Norman has a range of thirteen miles," I said, hoping Took at least understands imperial units of measurement. "It'll take them out, from its spot right above our heads at this very moment."

"That's a four hour journey on foot…" Took said with wide eyed awe, putting it into terms only an experienced traveler would get.

"Most beautiful thing you'll ever see, especially on these Steins," Skalitz said. The boy had a sweet smile whenever he was close to Took.

It was time I filled the rangers in on Took's role. I gestured at the old man, "Took here knows the tunnels. We'll keep him safe, he'll lead us out."

That earned a confused glare from Took. Then his eyes widened as he began to understand. Jackson looked somewhat surprised, but his tone was cynical, "What does Took get out of it?"

I glared hard at him, "If I want your opinion, sergeant, I'll ask for it."

He looked ready to challenge me again, and I breathed sharply through my nose. Perhaps he'd try to call out the big lie. Or perhaps he was not ready to trust Took going on a mission, a thought that must've been shared with the rest of the men.

Took answered for himself. "They took valuable items from me," He shrugged, "I wish to get them back."

Finnigan snorted, "You mean those stupid seeds?"

Judging by the silent looks, the rumor mill has been hard at work since the afternoon. Took didn't flinch at the question, "Our paths bring all of us to the same point: the monsters."

He gave each man present a look of resolution. That look lingered the longest with me, "You take me there, and I'll take you there."

I took that moment to end the conversation. I stated the obvious, "We're gonna be working within tight spaces. Our formation is likely to be switching between file and column when we don't have the room."

I filled them in on the rules of engagement. If there's barely any wiggle room, crouch if you're facing the enemy so that the guy behind you can also face the enemy, and say goodbye to your hearing. When there's wiggle room, wedges are the formations to go with, besides a line.

The group was large. Storage was the biggest room in the complex, besides the chapel, and they still took up three whole layers of men around the meeting. I told them they needed to keep track of not only every man in their squad, but of every squad closest to them. Stay organized; don't turn into a mob of panicked men at the first sign of trouble. That would kill us all.

What came next was gonna make that final, essential rule, incredibly hard to follow.

The quartermaster and his men came, carrying large fuel tanks by their straps, the rifle-like shaft detached from its hose and tied to the canisters by thick twine for easy carrying. Four of them came in total. They placed them on the ground in a neat row.

"Godspeed gentlemen." The quartermaster gave me a firm handshake. But then he locked his gaze, his grip tightened, and I was certain that he had seen through my lie.

"Don't let them get wrecked," He said, to a few nervous chuckles.

When he left, I acted like nothing happened, and presented the flamethrowers with a hand, "We're being given the M2s, taking the last of the napalm with us."

Bryce had been shaking his head, long before they came into the room, "Christ…"

Took looked at it with trepidation and curiosity. He smelled it through his nostrils, and recoiled, "What are these monstrosities?"

Finnigan skirted the line with a shit eating grin on his face, "Should we really have these near all our food?"

The men worried. The worst possible death was being carried with them, in thin steel canisters, through tight tunnels with jagged rocks. Joyce got the lucky job of carrying them at the back of the column underneath Bryce with his six men, though that means they'll be running past everyone if we find anything that needs burning…

We finished off with the basics; between the sergeants and corporals, there are three squads of seven men. A front squad, led by sergeant Jackson with corporal Skalitz. A command squad behind them, led by me and maintained by Finnigan. Bryce and Joyce commanded the rear squad together, watching our back and equipping four of their men with the flamethrowers.

Took's navigational role made him important, but he fought to go with the front squads. Only place he could really go was the command squad, with me.

We finally started to file out the room, only to be met with a dozen or so infantrymen waiting for us, a man in the full dress uniform bearing the silver oak leaf. He looked at me, and my response was automatic, "Attention!"

We saluted Lieutenant Colonel Blithe and stood with straight posture. Even Took followed suit quickly, and didn't do half a bad job at it.

He addressed me, "At ease."

My posture relaxed, as did the others. "Sir?"

"You remember Corporal Davison, Captain?" He pulled a young, blonde haired man forward and presented him like he was a new model car, "He's now sergeant Davison, and I'm attaching him and a squad of eleven to your platoon."

I remembered Davison. He did well against the attack last night. But this… This was too many. "That makes us well over forty men sir."

"We have no idea how big their base is." He pointed a finger at my heart. Reaching into satchel, he produced a can. He waved it so that I could smell; grounded coffee beans. "You and your men need to have staying power, in case we miss some of them. Just make sure you help us get most of them."

I eyed the men. They were Blithe's boys, no doubt about that. They carried the same gear we carried, springfields and two reisings. But my eyes then fell on the long boxy sacks attached to their hips; they looked like TNT, and not the kind we had among our equipment when we came here…

I took the can. "It's time to put an end to this," Blithe said. He gave Davison a pat on the shoulder before saluting everyone. He left, having not explained the new gear among Davison's men.

As the men bustled to enjoy their time before setting out, Took approached me. I led him back into storage to keep the conversation private. Took whispered, "I suppose you're relying heavily on my considerable experience of navigating these tunnels…"

I double checked the crack in the door to make sure there were no shadows. "You say you can navigate them anyway?"

"I can."

"Good." I said. "That's all I need to know."

There were no more options left. No turns left to take. The steins had to be stopped, for the men that gave their lives to protect the battalions. For the men that died under my command.

We stepped out of storage, and I immediately sensed eyes on me; Jackson was hashing things out with his squad, glancing at me and Took. I sent Took off with Skalitz to equip him with gear that was… up to standards. When he was gone, Jackson dismissed his men to approach me. His men were the last to leave, the hallways empty.

He had that look he always had when he was ready to voice a concern, "Captain I-"

"You shut the fuck up, Jackson." I snapped. Now was not the time to be soft; Jackson was overdue for a lecture. "You know where we're going and what we're going through, so I need to know if I can trust you to follow goddamn orders."

The hall was empty, but the look of humiliation washed over Jackson's face. He knew I had reason to boot him off. "I'm sorry sir. It won't happen again."

"That's not good enough, because yesterday you thought the man was sent by the devil, then all of a sudden you were pulling him out of his cell for his own safety?" It's one thing to disobey an order, it's another to do so unpredictably.

Jackson had always been a head strong and driven marksman. Always been as focused as the scope on his own rifle. But now, I see uncertainty. The way his eyes darted around, searching for the next danger, the next monster. With nothing but a scoped springfield, he used to be the monster.

For a while, Sergeant Daniel Jackson was afraid. It's the only explanation. He fell behind the straight posture of a typical soldier of the United States of America. "What do you need from me, Captain, sir!"

"I need you to make your mind up, Sergeant!" I fell back on the drilled professionalism that had carried me so far in the rangers. "We're all gonna be behind you! Do your job, don't screw up, and maybe then, and only then, we'll live to finally see Omaha!"

Jackson's posture had grown more sharp. "Sir yes sir!"

My voice was almost shri"Get your men in order, Sergeant! Dismissed!"


Two hours. That was the time we had before departure. The journey might take a while, so we took the time for the sun to set. Wouldn't even have it where we're going.

The men took the time to pray. The prayer room's collection had built up more; an entire squad's worth of men had been torn through by the ripple men attack. Their dog tags were added to the collection, dangling off rusted nails on the walls.

Every soldier in that room had their eyes closed. "Dear lord," A private had volunteered to start off the prayer. Everyone repeated after him, "Lest I continue my complacent way, help me to remember that somewhere, somehow out there, a man had died for me today. As long as there be war, I then must ask and answer: Am I worth dying for?"

When not praying, they were either playing cards, having their last cigarettes, off in a closet doing I don't wanna know what, or finishing their sentry duties. I boiled a pot of water.

We had no filters, so I used the cleanest towel I could find; It just had a little concrete dust in it. I put it over a steel pot, weighed the sides down with rocks. Lieutenant Colonel Blithe's can of grounded coffee piled over the top, and over that a stream of steaming hot water.

"Holy shit…" A private bunking in the same hallway as me said, "Is that coffee?"

Multiple eyes from around the hall fell on me. Most of them couldn't believe it. I peeked into the pot, hot water over the brown powder.

I poured every last drop into their rusty cups and canteens. By the time the whole intersection had been refilled with energy and chatter, not a single bit was left for me.


As the sun had finally set over the mountains, we set out. Close to forty-five men filed through the halls. Men not going made way, eyeing the activities of what is obviously a large operation. It didn't take much for them to guess where we were going.

Privates Willis and Johns were hopping on rotation. They were notorious for being the go-to sentry team for the tunnels. They sat in a defilade of sandbags, guarded against a deep and dark hole in the wall.

A warm lantern revealed the brick ground giving way to jagged and potholed rock. Parts of the wall and ground had been littered with dents; the impacts of point thirty caliber rounds. The privates were startled, and turned towards us, they're faces cast in shadow underneath their green steel helmets, the barrels of their machine guns coming inches to my torso before they realized they weren't being ambushed.

A snarl disappeared from Private Willis' face. "Captain Miller? Sergeant Jackson?" He asked, and for a split second, he looked like the scared boy he was underneath that horribly thin beard. "What's going...on…"

The thought of where I was going spread wide on their faces. It got worse the minute they realized how many were following me.

"Holy shit…" Johns' jaw was practically drooping. "You're not…"

"Chin up, Private," I said tersely, "I don't like looking at those yellow pearls of yours." He quickly closed his mouth shut.

"And him too?" Willis gaped, for a short second, at Took.

Took usually had a long, ankle reaching robe, alongside a cloak that wrapped around the upper half of his body. Gave him the appearance of a priest of some sort, but that robe had to go because it screamed tripping hazard. He protested, but eventually got a compromise; he was allowed to keep the clothes, but they had to be packed away.

He came into the room wearing a uniform; leggings, combat boots, and a combat belt with a grenade and a handgun, two extra mags. He could not stop fidgeting with the collar.

"Yes," He said, thumb down in his jacket, scratching around the collar bone, "In something uncomfortable."

I got right to it. I faced my sharpshooting sergeant, "Jackson, take your men in first."

With a kiss on the silver cross around his neck, Jackson begins the slow march, putting a hand on the jagged edge at the top before crouching in. Skalitz and the rest of his squad went in after.

Up next was the battlefield promoted Sergeant Davison. The infantrymen were quiet, and their crawl into the tunnels would be the longest. I checked their gear; rifles, submachine guns, handguns, and even some knives. Those packs caught my eye again; they seemed familiar.

After him, my command squad would continue on, the center stage of the line of men. Took and Corporal Finnigan looked at me, the latter hugging their reising. But the look on Took was as hard as stone. He was ready in but one sense.

I approached, the item still wrapped in its piece of cloth. I undid the wrap, and quickly, it was in the air. Took caught the holstered blade in one hand.

"Show us the way, Took."

Silently, he nodded. I turned around, and Took followed suit.