–6 March 1936–

Despite no longer being apart, sharing a cell did little to abate Nikola and Chiara's anxiety about their radically-evolving predicament. Chiara, in particular, was full of nervous energy, pacing back and forth from one side of the small concrete cell to the other. She had tried everything to blow off steam: push-ups, jumping jacks, crunches–and when none of that worked, she tried punching the stone floor. Nothing helped, and as the days ticked by she was reduced to exhaustively counting her steps.

Nikola, on the other hand, was sitting cross-legged, lost in her own world. They were finally together, on their own. Yet, frustratingly, nothing had fundamentally changed. Their already strained relationship had been driven threadbare by imprisonment and the resulting upheaval of their lives. She was terrified that being honest about her feelings would only lead to more fighting.

Imprisonment had certainly whittled down her already-thin patience. "Would you stop your incessant babbling?"

Chiara stopped abruptly and angrily growled, "Quiet. You cannot order me around anymore." Her harshness wasn't intentional, but that didn't stop her from following it up by screaming as she kicked the wall. After enough kicks to bruise her foot, she relaxed and plopped down next to her partner. "Gah! What is taking so long?!"

Shifting so her knees were under her chin, Nikola glumly muttered. "Maybe they have already decided to let us starve in here." They had exactly one meal since being moved, and it was nothing more than some kind of tasteless grey mush. The two girls had fought ferociously over it regardless, resulting in a few fresh scratches on their cheeks. She put a hand on her forehead. "…Chiara," she began, avoiding eye contact with her partner. "Why did you run?"

It was the first time since they had been arrested that what transpired on Schwartzgrad's plaza had been brought up. Chiara immediately looked away, reaching to touch her blue and green beads that held a braid together, only to remember those that had been taken from her. Barely above a whisper, she answered, "I–I am not sure."

Nikola turned to face her partner. Coldly, she said, "…Lord Belgar was clear. No more failures. You were meant to destroy that tank."

Chiara's eye twitched, and she hissed through her teeth, "I know, okay?" She swung several times, punching the air. "I am just defective! You know that! Lord Belgar knew that!" She whined, unable to maintain her anger as she began to tug at the hair on her scalp. "I did not want to die…"

The only things she could remember from that moment were the deafening roar of the Hafen's engine, the spray of bullets from its coaxial machine gun, and the buzz of her radio. It was overwhelming. Maybe it was doubt, or self-preservation, maybe even a selfish desire to live. Maybe something in her head snapped after the final adjustment. She didn't know. Something in her froze–or maybe it was her entire body. Then she felt her legs carry her off, as a switch in her mind flipped. She hardly remembered much between the plaza and the cell. Now, she found herself biting holes into the meat of her thumb, paralyzed by the upsetting blur of memories that interrupted her thoughts. It was not until Nikola loudly cleared her throat, that Chiara was snapped back to the present.

"You–" Nikola let out a sigh as she struggled to find the right words. "No, I was glad you chose to run."

The truth. However, the truth was never necessarily easy to swallow. Especially for Chiara, who was on her feet in an instant on the other side of their confined space. "Liar!" Her hands shook, as her temper flared. "You stood there –on that stupid rooftop–judging me!" She stomped against the stone floor, wild-eyed. "Always acting like you are better than me! I should have let you die!"

Her words cut straight through Nikola, a gasp leaving her as her chest tightened. She laughed bleakly, not knowing what she expected. "Stupid…" Staggering up as well, she put her mask back on, her expression returning to smug indifference. "Do not push your insecurities onto me, Chiara. You are worthless–a pathetic failure who sticks her nose into everyone's business." She took a single step forward, making a tight fist. "I never asked you to save me. Yet you did, because dragging me down is all you are good at."

Their eyes locked; like caged beasts, they rotated around the cell, searching for an opportunity to lash out. Yet before either could act, the massive iron door swung open and two faceless enforcers in black armor were pinning them both against the wall. Cold shackles were once again clapped around their wrists, and they were shoved from the basement prison.

For a brief moment, terrified their retirement was inevitable, their feud was forgotten. They clung to each other as they were roughly led out of the building, only to be shocked as they found themselves outside, blinking uncomfortably in the blinding midday light. Chiara felt a flood of emotions overcome her; she let go of Nikola's sleeve and lept into the air, cheering gleefully. Her celebration was cut short, though, as Nikola remained motionless, and their connecting chain went taut, both of them crashing onto the cobblestone unceremoniously.

Groaning, Nikola shoved the other girl roughly, "Do you… always have to be so easily excited?"

"It's the sun, Nikola!" Chiara exclaimed, staring up at the blue sky, having been convinced she would never see it again. "We are not on the Crystal Sea anymore!" There was something so pure and genuine about her happiness that, for a second, Nikola could feel a comforting warmth in her chest.

She didn't get to speak, though, as the celebration came to an end when a pair of black boots stopped in front of them. Each girl craned to see a solitary smoking man standing in front of them. He wore a blank expression, his dark eyes concealing the life of an executioner. Even though his leather coat lacked an insignia, Nikola remembered him instantly as the man who had been standing behind the Lord Commissar during their arrest. He gestured to the guard behind them, and they were once again standing. Commanding, he pointed to the cuffs. "Gustav. The restraints are not needed."

Gustav began to protest, "Commissar Ludwig, these two are very dangerous." He had been present when Chiara bit a piece of Volker's finger off like a carrot.

Commissar Ludwig looked unphased by the objection. "Yes, that is why we recruited them. However, they are hardly rabid." When the guard remained hesitant, he exhaled smoke. "The day I fear the children of our Empire is the day I retire." Nikola and Chiara equally resented being referred to as children, but when the irons were removed, both gratefully massaged their wrists. Gustav left them, and the Commissar continued, "You can call me Karl." He motioned with his head toward an idling tan kubelwagen on the side of the street. "I am going to be your driver."

Nikola hesitated, not entirely convinced he wasn't going to take them out to a field and shoot them. He certainly exuded a familiar dangerous presence. "Where… Where are you taking us?"

Ignoring her question, Karl walked over to the driver's side. "Get in." They complied, sliding awkwardly into the backseat of the cramped vehicle. Nikola took note of the insignia of a crow holding a dagger on the door, and at that moment she realized she could not recall the last time she had been in a proper car.

He started the engine and pulled out on the street. After a few more turns, and a brief wait behind several other cars at a checkpoint at the edge of Schwartzgrad, they left the city behind. Surrounding the sprawling metropolis was an untouched forest, massive trunks of wood topped by vibrant green that scraped the sky above. Nikola could not truly appreciate the beauty; she leaned her head against the glass window, watching Chiara from the corner of her eye. The other girl was already fidgeting, looking around aimlessly. Being unable to remain still had been one of her primary problems.

Keeping his focus on the dirt road, Karl snuffed his cigarette out, and then put a fresh one in his mouth. He fumbled for his light. "There are a few questions I need answered."

Crossing her arms, Chiara pushed backward in her seat. "We already told… Volker everything."

The harsh smell of tobacco filled the cabin, and Karl shook his head. "Not that. Related to your combat experience." He glanced back briefly. "You were part of X-0's experimental weapons squad, yes?" Two nods were his answer. "According to the field reports filed by your obsolete lord, the project aimed to create soldiers proficient in all forms of combat. Small arms, explosives, and knives… Impressive, to say the least. However, it is listed that you developed a strong preference for a specially crafted crossbow, yes?"

"Dunkel," Nikola said blandly, watching him closely through the rearview mirror. "It is called a Dunkel." Even when it seemed his attention was on the road, she felt like he possessed eyes in the back of his head. She also could not help but notice the Zechmeister machinepistol leaning between the passenger seat and the dashboard. Its wire stock was folded, and the barrel was etched with a set of five white tallies, indicating this Commissar had been busy.

Karl took note of her wariness, while Chiara hit the seat in front of her demanding an answer. "Yeah! Where are they?" She had but one purpose–to carry the treasured weapon bestowed by Lord Belgar.

Karl chose to ignore her and simply moved on. He turned the wheel, causing the wagon to lurch to avoid a large tree trunk laying in the road. "In 1933, Doctor Dorijan was assassinated at his estate in Bergano. Poison delivered through a small puncture wound at the base of the spine." He gestured in a vaguely circular motion with his hand, "Hope you are happy. His death set our development of a new class of ragnite generators back ten years."

Nikola crossed her arms indignantly, feigning ignorance. "And how do you know it was us?" It had been their first shared mission, and it had almost been a failure since Chiara lost her nerve.

"Nothing happens in our Empire without us knowing about it," Karl answered. At the time, Friedhold had been insistent it was time to present a case against X-0 to the Emperor–an argument the Lord Commissar dismissed. "Okay… We already have documentation about your actions on the Crystal Sea–no reason to revisit that. Can you clarify what transpired at Schwartzgrad?"

"We were defeated," Chiara said, deciding she did not want to revisit the plaza ever again. Her brown eyes flicked to her hand as if to make sure she wasn't carrying a detonator. "Badly."

Karl took a puff on his cigarette, exhaling through his nose, "Yes, that is one way to describe it." He paused, pulling the car onto another road that led away from the woods. "X-0's arrogance astounds me. Do either of you have any idea how many men we have lost?" He scoffed, clearly disgusted, and snapped his fingers, "Should have just let the Feds level Schwartzgrad. Show them our strength is in our people and their will to sacrifice, not our buildings."

Chiara bristled at his harsh tone, she made a fist knocking her knuckles against the glass window. "I did not see you there! You and your dumb black uniform!"

"We… were ordered by his majesty to not interfere with X-0's operations." Karl said, a brief flicker of anger appearing in his eyes. "Doesn't mean we weren't trying to save our work from your incompetence."

His insult managed to get a rise from Chiara, who kicked the seat. "We tried!" She looked at her partner, pleading, "We did–right, Nikola?" Before anyone could speak, she huffed, puffing her cheeks. "We brought that worthless Valkyria and made sure she sunk that ugly snow cruiser. Then Forseti reported we ruined his plan."

Nikola hesitated, not entirely sure that was the correct analysis. X-0's strategist had decreed he didn't need to deploy Crymaria for the operation, and Lord Belgar had once again retreated into his laboratory. Meaning neither girl had been briefed at all, leaving them twiddling their thumbs completely in the dark. The scenario had caused Chiara to panic at first, and her concern quickly rubbed off on Nikola, causing them both to make a huge error in judgment. Her brooding was brought to an end by Karl, who, recognizing the Gallian's name, spoke, "Ah, yes, comrade Forseti… Or Kai Schulen, I should say. We tracked his movements after he crossed into our motherland, and forwarded our concerns about his intentions to Doctor Belgar… Unsurprisingly, we were ignored." Karl made a conscious decision to ignore the mention of a Valkyria, despite such a weapon being X-0's jurisdiction. Within the Commissariat, their existence was the highest level of clearance. "Rocino. Are you suggesting that aiding the defense of our Empire resulted in a reprimand?"

The question was one Chiara didn't expect. "I…" She trailed off, scrunching up her face. "Uhm–"

Nikola waited a few seconds, letting her partner flounder before giggling sweetly. "Careful, Commissar. Chiara might blow a gasket. She's a bit too slow for anything too complex." There was a blur as a fist shot toward her, but without even flinching, she caught it. "We were trying to prove that our project… could still be useful. Sinking the Federation's Navy was what we thought we were supposed to do." Quietly, she added, "We were wrong."

Karl raised an eyebrow, seeing her tense up. "Hmm. Since you two are now agents employed by our organization, I am going to include your testimony in the report." Regardless of their potential unreliability, concocting a truth was his job. "Alright, that is all for now. The Lord Commissar has a specific concern he wishes to discuss."

Chiara clicked her tongue, putting her hands in her lap. "Will you answer some of our questions now?"

Karl held up three fingers. "Yes. Make them count."

Nikola and Chiara leaned their heads together, whispering between themselves. There were so many things they wanted to know, it was difficult to decide on what was most pressing. Finally, two sets of eyes settled on the man driving, and the blonde girl asked, "Can you clarify what is going to be required of us in the Commissariat?"

"As agents of Lord Commissar York, you will be granted immunity to certain legal restrictions when dealing with dissident groups." Karl explained, relieved it was something he could actually answer. He shifted in his seat, glad the drive was almost over. "Unless the situation changes, your first assignment is going to most likely be dealing with the insurgent Nord Republic."

At the mention of the snow-covered Northern country, Chiara groaned. "Ugh, not again! We were just there." Her complaint provoked no reaction from the Commissar, who merely lowered one finger. Repeating herself from earlier, she asked, "Will we get our Dunkels back?"

"Yes," Karl answered dryly, snuffing his cigarette in the ashtray. "They were damaged during the fighting, but we have a skilled engineer employed who should be able to get them repaired.

Both girls were visibly thrilled that their crossbows were okay. However the excitement faded, and Nikola leaned forward, gravely serious. "…Will we be retired if we fail?"

Karl looked back again. His job meant he was skilled at reading people, and even her stony demeanor could do little to hide the fact she was trembling slightly. "There is a war on. We in the Commissariat do not make a habit of killing good soldiers." Referring to them as good caused both girls to relax and sit up straighter. The reaction was enough to make the cold man feel guilty that they were slated for retirement once the operation was concluded. The Lord Commissar's indication toward totality insisted that no potential risks could be allowed to slip through the cracks. Karl pushed the thought away, lowering his hand back to the wheel. "We are almost there."