A/N: Thanks to my editor rareID, author of the amazing For Better or Worse, who puts up with my insanity (To be fair, they're fucking crazy too.)

Omega [REDUX]

Chapter 47

Consciousness came to her in waves, through glimpses of dim light and patches of sound that she couldn't quite make sense of. Nothing, for that matter, seemed to make sense to her. She raised her hand, placing it upon her stasis cell's glass cover.

It was almost amusing to her; she was immune to any form of cryostasis because she was immune to cold of any—

Realization struck Elsa like lightning. Hans had revealed his betrayal and incapacitated her. She and Anna were now in grave danger; she needed to escape, fast. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she struck the glass.

Pain exploded through her hand and she recoiled. She cried out in pain; her punches had no effect on the reinforced paneling. The stasis cell had meant to protect its occupant from external shocks, but now served as a sturdy prison. Elsa struck again with her other arm, only to achieve a similar effect.

The hell? Elsa didn't expect to break out of the cell on her first try, but she wasn't even leaving a dent. Worse, she could feel the pain from her attacks; this never happened, she thought to herself. She had no problems hitting harder materials with her bare hands before.

Now panicking, the Ascendant pressed her hands against the glass, willing them to freeze her prison's glass cover and shatter it.

Nothing.

She tried again. Still nothing. Even in her panicked state, no cryo powers. No ice layers running amok. Absolutely nothing.

No. No, no, NO! In futility she slammed her hands upon the stasis cell, trying to break free. For no apparent reason, and when she needed them most, her powers had deserted her. She cursed herself; for years she had longed to be free of the curse that was her cryokinesis, but by circumstance began to rely on it. Now she found herself lacking in supernatural ability, and she didn't know if she could count on her own - human - abilities anymore.

What about Anna? she found herself thinking. Is she safe? Hysteria shot through her as scenarios raced through her mind. Was Anna captured by traitor forces? Was Hans taking her to Empyrean now? Now that their plans had been exposed, who else had been compromised? What about Kristoff and Charles?

This is all my fault this is all my fault why am I like this why did I do this to them why am I ALWAYS THE CAUSE OF SOMEONE'S PAIN—

On instinct she slammed her hand against the stasis cell, and the pain was enough to bring tears to her eyes, her breath now ragged and racked with sobs. Her body, her mind, her soul consumed with rage and hatred, that she was the reason for their suffering. It was all she could do to not beat her hands to bloody stumps upon the cell's interior.

On the verge of hyperventilating she pressed her fingers against the glass, trying to control her rapidly deteriorating state.

Panic gave way to grasping. Sorrow to agony. Despair to desperation.

Get it together, you piece of shit. You can cry later. You need to get out, and fast.

Elsa forced herself to take in a breath; though now imprisoned, her current state of affairs would buy her some time, and that was time she needed to spend rationalizing. Self-pity and crying could wait; for now she needed an exit plan, and she needed to find Anna.

Because she'd be damned if she let any more suffering come to Anna. No matter what Anna thought of her.

Relegating her chaotic thoughts was the first step. The dim lights inside the cell provided limited visibility, but enough for her to ascertain a suitable degree of space inside her cell for movement. She craned her head and scanned the stasis cell's interior for any release mechanisms, and when none could be found, she peered through the glass for a glimpse of her surroundings.

Boxy, reinforced interior, Elsa noted. My cell is stacked on one end of this enclosed space. Could be a—

The cell rocked with movement, then stabilized again. Transport, probably a military transport. They might be shipping me somewhere. Could be anywhere, but won't be good either way.

Two armoured soldiers trod over to check on her. Elsa noted the black-painted, insignia-less outfit. More black ops crews; a convenient tool for Hans to execute his agenda. "She's awake," one of them spoke, and as he shifted Elsa could see the suit's additional hydraulic mechanisms. They'd been outfitted with the specific intention of taking out Ascendants, yet appeared different from the previous iteration of anti-Ascendant power armour. An upgrade, perhaps?

How the hell am I supposed to beat two heavily armoured soldiers without my powers? I could barely hold my own when—

She shut off that train of thought when she realized it wasn't helping. It was difficult, but within a few seconds she regained control, blinking back tears as she refocused.

Elsa tried to get a closer look at the gear. She noted a similar heat venting system along their suits, and what appeared to be shock gloves on their hands. Whoever designed the suit improved on the previous design. Without her powers to assist her, escaping these two would definitely be a lot trickier.

"Keep an eye on her," the other soldier responded, his voice garbled as it was projected through the armour's external mic. "The truck's driver AI is reporting something going on. I'm gonna take a look."

Her eyes narrowed as one of the pair departed. Truck. This is a transport after all; Hans wants me somewhere where I'm out of the way, or worse.

The other soldier stared her down behind his black visor. Her gaze never wavered; any advantage, even psychological, would be needed. He would be Elsa's first target, should she escape. She might need his armour. And his weapon.

But how to escape? While her powers had failed her, her other abilities thus far had not, and Elsa could recall reading stasis cell blueprints before. They had never been designed for its occupant to release themselves. Its materials were reinforced metal alloys, meant to prevent further damage to an injured occupant.

She scoffed. Elsa wished Hans had stowed her in a maximum security prison instead. That way she'd still have a chance to escape. If you still have your skills intact, she thought.

A rumbling sounded outside her cell. It was muffled by both the cell's paneling and the transport's, but its audibility gave Elsa pause. No reason for anything to be that loud, let alone near the transport carrying her.

Dare she hope? Dare she hope that someone, Anna or Charles or Kristoff, had gotten wind of what had happened to her? Dare she hope that Anna was still alive, and not in captivity or worse?

Elsa took another deep breath and surveyed her surroundings again. Until she could ascertain a viable course of action, hope was all she had right now.

"Fuck you-u-u!"

Anna gunned the engines of the ringcycle as she dodged oncoming traffic. A pulse cannon sprouted from her shoulder, which blasted the back of the truck to little effect. The transport had been modified to withstand heavy assault, her analysis indicating comprehensive reinforcement of the truck's exterior and interior, coupled with a healthy dose of nanomites for self-repair.

This is going to take a while, she thought.

For good measure, Anna had already remotely accessed Cradle Alpha's drone dropship that they used for missions, but its ETA was too large to provide any help. She'd have to handle this one by hers—

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" Merida screamed again from behind her as she fired off another explosive arrow toward the back of the transport. The projectile detonated in a blast of smoke and shrapnel, but the truck's armoured plating remained unharmed.

"I appreciate the bout of righteous anger," Anna managed to say, even as she wove between more hovercars and ignored the gazes of shocked onlookers, "but fury alone won't break that transport's plating. Got any better ideas?"

"I'm using all I've got. I don't normally"—Merida fired off another arrow—"carry heavy ordnance on me, y'know?"

"Sarcasm isn't weaponizable either, thank you very much," Anna shot back. She reconfigured the cannon on her shoulder and altered its energy core configuration. She fired a continuous beam of plasma toward the back of the armoured trailer. Her augmented vision adjusted to the new light source to give her a better, less glaring view of what she was attacking. "I'm getting something," she said. "Might be able to break through if I keep this up."

"If you're going to find solutions to your own questions," Merida retorted, dripping with sarcasm in spite of their current situation, "then maybe you should— look out!"

Anna looked up just in time to see a turret pop up from the back of the transport, its operator clad in the insignia-less black ops armour, just before it opened fire on her in a steady stream of bullets. Shit! Lead rounds struck the cannon mounted to her shoulder, and she cried out in pain, now forced to de-morph the weapon to make herself a smaller target.

"Who the fuck are these guys?" she heard Merida yell behind her. "They're UIF, aren't they? Why the hell do they want Elsa, and why the hell do they want to kill us?"

The Ascendant managed to take one hand off the ringcycle's handlebars, then morphed her arm into a plasma cannon and fired off a burst of blue bolts. The plasma struck the turret dead on, but had little effect on her target, and as the bluish smoke cleared Anna caught a glimpse of the signature hexagon pattern of a shield barrier. Shielding? What the hell is this thing? None of the vehicle's features are remotely close to standard issue—

"Get your head together, dammit!" Merida berated her as a distracted Anna barely dodged another hail of high-calibre rounds. "You might want to die, but don't you dare speak on my behalf!"

Anna forced herself to concentrate; from her back morphed a shield generator, allowing her to project a barrier of protective energy around them. Now with the added protection, Anna surged the ringcycle forward, but the rounds that collided with her shield barrier began to push her back.

"Can't advance," she managed to say, as she swerved to avoid more gunfire. "The bullets are killing my momentum whenever I get close."

"I'm gonna kill more than that guy's momentum when we get close," Merida snarled. "That the normal shielding the turret's got up there?"

"Don't think there's any other kind," Anna replied.

"Then it only blocks fast-moving projectiles and energy blasts, and my arrows don't count." She could almost hear the smirk of her companion despite the chaos on the road around her. Anna felt Merida shift her posture behind her, and an arrowed arced through the air before it slammed straight through the soldier's head.

"Fuckin'-A!" Anna exclaimed, just before the soldier collapsed out of sight. "Hold on, we're going in!"

"Sir," an officer reported as he walked up to Charles, "we're getting reports of hostile activity on a highway. Looks like Ascendant activity."

"Any damage reports?" Charles queried. He rolled his chair toward the main monitoring station on the base, and motioned for the officer to follow. "Fire damage? Ground being uprooted? Metal shards and shrapnel?"

"Negative, sir. Most damage looks technological in nature."

Anna. "Keep me appraised of the situation," Charles said as he nodded toward the officer, "and let me know if the chaos spreads any further. We can trust our Ascendants to make their decisions for now, but I want to know if this escalates."

As soon as the officer left Charles made a quick u-turn and rolled down toward a more private corner on the station. He keyed in a few commands into this wheelchair's console.

"This is Kristoff," came a voice through his earpiece as a holographic miniature materialized from his armrest's projector.

"This a secure line?" Charles asked.

"Always," came Kristoff's reply. "Our communications are always encrypted—"

"It's Anna," Charles said. "Something's happening on Highway Q-twenty-one. No word on Elsa thus far."

"In the city?" The soldier's worry was evident to Charles. "Someone onto them?"

"Unclear, as of yet," Charles replied, "but I'm tracking the situation now. In the meantime, stay low and keep mum about the Ascendants unless directly questioned. We could all be in danger now, and we can't help them if we're compromised."

"Roger that."

"How much do you trust me?"

"You wouldn't ask me that if you weren't planning something fucking insane," Merida shot back. "What the fuck do you wa-a-a—!"

Merida found herself thrown off the bike, the screech from the ringcycle's overworked brakes reached her ears just before she landed upon the trailer's roof. Acting on instinct, she seized the side of the turret to give her an anchor, stopping herself from sliding off the metal surface.

With far more finesse than the archer could ever hope to achieve, Anna landed on her feet a few feet away, knees braced to absorb the impact. "Fuck you," Merida found herself saying.

"I need to cut into the transport's roof, and get in before it self-repairs," the Ascendant stated. "Give me cover."

"Cover?" Merida asked, pushing herself to her feet, her boot's mag-grips activated to give her better balance. "Cover from what?"

A series of thumps resounded from in front of them; two soldiers clambered onto the roof from an access hatch, one clad in bulkier armour than the other. "Never mind then," she heard Anna say.

Without thinking Merida notched an arrow to her bow and fired. The hulking soldier caught the arrow midair, his movement a flash of black. "Okay-y-y," Merida said, shooting a nervous glance Anna's way, "you can have that one."

Her companion lunged at the larger soldier, leaving Merida to deal with the smaller one that was now charging her with a pair of taser knives. With no time to fire off arrows Merida backtracked a step to give herself space, countered her opponent's first jab and struck out with her bow. Her opponent recoiled, but just as Merida stepped forward to exploit the space conceded, the knives came swinging to her right.

Sheer luck saved Merida's helmetless face as she brought her bow up to block the swing, then kicked outward to dislodge her opponent. With her offhand she drew an arrow from her mag-quiver, before she swung both hands outwards to counter another attack, and found the space to drive her arrow point deep into her opponent's shoulder.

Merida rolled her eyes at her opponents screams, more so when he fell to his knees in pain, grasping at the arrow. A well-aimed kick sent him flying off the roof.

"Little . . . help . . . here!" she heard from nearby. Merida notched an arrow, took aim at the soldier who was now grasping Anna in a chokehold.

"Drop the bow, Legolas," the garbled voice came from the soldier who held Merida's companion hostage, "or her neck goes snap."

"Ha!" Merida laughed. "Could Legolas do this?"

She released the bowstring with a twang. The soldier, once again, seized one in midair.

The other two had found their way through his head and shoulder.

Anna elbowed the corpse off her back and tossed it off the transport. It crashed in front of a hovercar, which promptly swerved to avoid the new obstacle. "Split arrows?" she asked. "Really? You designed your arrows after a videogame?"

"It ain't stupid if it works, girl," Merida fired back. "Enough talk. We've got an ice queen to save."

Anna would find that Merida's bravado would fade after they entered the transport. You couldn't show bravado if you were unconscious.

Her companion's haste had lead her straight into the path of another hulking soldier. Anna knew that his suit systems were augmented with additional hydraulics to pack a bigger punch, suit systems integrated with an AI to assist the user's reflexes. In the close quarters Merida had no room to run, and a single punch had sent her flying.

A quick bioscan revealed Anna's companion would suffer nothing more than a concussion. Lucky for her.

Not so lucky for Anna.

The soldier rounded on Anna; he swung both his arms inward to grab her, but she dodged under the swing and slammed her fists into his torso, then upward to dislodge his attempted grab and dealt a swift uppercut. The disoriented soldier dropped his guard, and Anna struck out in quick succession, dealing blows to his shoulder blades, his gut, his face—

A gauntleted arm swung outward and seized the helmet she'd morphed around her face, and armoured fingers started to crush her helmet with an unexpected amount of force. Realising she was being forced toward the ground, the Ascendant punched upward, trying to break the hold, and the soldier responded by turning on his shock gloves and crushing her head even more.

Anna screamed from the pain. Static and gibberish seemed to fill her being; her augmented vision distorted, her real vision fading to black. Her garbled internal systems struggled to keep pace with the electrical charge. With all of her remaining energy she tried to form a construct; a crudely-shaped blade morphed from her arm and she stabbed upwards. The blade missed the first time, but before the soldier could respond she'd scored on the second try, piercing his less protected armpit.

Her opponent roared, his grip slackening as Anna twisted the blade. She managed to push herself into a low crouch, bearing the electric shocks as she tore the circuitry off the man's hand. Enraged, the soldier swung his other arm, only for Anna to block the blind swing and tear off the other shock glove.

Anna kicked the soldier off, ignoring the aching throughout her body as she rose to her feet. Her adversary lay a few feet away, in the corner of the transport. She coughed, shook off the last vestiges of pain and returned her focus to her adversary.

"Who the fuck are you?" she snarled, blade still extended, the soldier's blood still dripping off. "And where the fuck were you taking her?"

"You already know . . . who we are." The man's voice, despite the suit's mic garbler, was laced with pain. "You already know . . . your fate."

So they know who they're working for? Anna recalled the previous squadron had been deployed on a need-to-know basis. Just how far entrenched was this Empyrean mole?

"Listen here you piece of shit," Anna spat as she knelt to continue her interrogation, "I don't have time to—"

The soldier's leg lashed out, connecting squarely with her face. Her defensive oversight had cost her; the force alone had knocked the wind out of her, and her head slammed into the floor as she fell, sending waves of nausea throughout her body.

Need . . . to get . . . to Elsa . . .

Anna gasped for air as she tried to stagger to her feet. With his good arm the soldier surged forward and pinned her against the wall of the transport, his unprotected fingers pressed against her neck. Her vision went red as she gurgled, her neck's nanomachines struggling to from a harder, more protective layer to stave off suffocation, but it was too late. She was losing focus and consciousness at an alarming rate. Anna slapped and struggled against the hand on her neck, but she was too weak to have any effect.

Her mind raced, even as it was drained of oxygen, for an answer, a response, any way out of her situation. With the last vestiges of energy she managed pull her arm upwards, already morphed into a cannon, and—

She blacked out before she could tell if she fired off the shot.

She'd heard the first signs of trouble above her, but couldn't tell what was going on. She didn't know if Kristoff or Charles had scrambled a response, or, if Anna had survived to try to come after her.

The stasis cell's occupant had watched as her warden dealt a painful blow to Merida just as she rushed in. Elsa hadn't expected to see Merida of all people, but watching her get knocked aside like paper was unnerving, to say the least.

Then Anna – thank heavens – had come bounding toward the soldier. She dodged his attacks with expert precision, overpowered and outmaneuvered his attempts to control her. Anna was about to finish him off before the soldier retaliated, managing to pin her to the wall.

No!

She'd watched, wide-eyed and helpless, as the soldier crushed Anna's neck against the wall. She'd watched the light fade from Anna's eyes as the life was driven out of her. She'd watched Anna bring her cannon arm up, now aimed toward the stasis cell.

She'd also watched the soldier drop his weapon right next to her cell, just before he'd engaged Merida.

Anna's plasma shot was off the mark; instead of striking the cell directly, it had grazed the glass cover. With the reinforced glass now weakened, Elsa bucked her legs and kicked out, shattered the glass in a spray of glistening shards and tumbled out. Her warden, alarmed, dropped Anna to the ground and rounded on Elsa instead.

She caught a glance of Anna falling limp to the ground. Her heart sank.

Elsa rolled away from the pod and seized the AAR-1 from the floor, her eyes already adjusted to the dim lighting inside the transport. She brought the weapon to bear and squeezed off a burst of lead; the rounds knocked out the external hydraulics on the soldier's arms, and two more bursts did the same for his legs.

The Ascendant held down the trigger as the soldier rushed at her. Her rounds clattered harmlessly off the soldier's bullet-proof armour, but managed to slow him just enough. Before he could reach the Ascendant, Elsa chucked the rifle at the soldier's helmet. His disoriented swing was off the mark, giving Elsa space to maneuver behind him.

She could hear his ragged, pained wheezing. She could see the way his body moved, pinpoint the parts that were hurting him the most.

She would need those advantages.

The soldier placed his hand against the wall and pushed off, kicking out with one knee. Untrained for combat with serious injury. Elsa blocked the kick, pushed the man back and ducked under his reactionary swing. She jabbed three fingers into the injured armpit; the soldier struggled and screamed as she dug into the wound. Blood trickled down her hand as she used her newfound leverage to dismantle her opponent's armour; a switch dislodged here, a fastener loosened there. She knew the armour's connections by heart; she hadn't spent that long preparing for the assault on Matrix for nothing.

The chestpiece fell just as the soldier scored a lucky hit on Elsa; as his fist burrowed into her gut, Elsa retaliated by slamming a palm into his exposed upper torso. She shoved his good hand away and sidestepped, then trapped his next punch in an armlock and pushed upwards hard. It didn't work. The armour was too thick for her to break the arm, and the move had cost her; the soldier adjusted his position, turned his arm forward and elbowed her in the chest.

She crashed into the wall behind her, the pain reverberating through her body. Elsa grit her teeth as she dodged the knee meant for her stomach, ducked under the soldier's arm and disengaged his torso guard. She now had a large armor-free area for her to attack; she just needed to exploit it.

Block, block, block. Elsa settled into an internal rhythm and willed her body to follow, countering her opponent's attacks. It was costly, but necessary; even as the shockwaves jarred her bones and the metal cut her skin she saw no other way out. She needed to endure until she could find an opening.

The Ascendant dodged a punch, braced against a shoulder charge, and retaliated by headbutting his disfigured helmet. Slamming her head into solid metal, disfigured or not, was something she might regret later, if the pain she felt was anything to go by. She blocked out the pain, weaving between her opponent's attacks. She struck only when it was safe, never giving ground, never exposing herself heedlessly.

The soldier spun and lunged forward in spite of his injuries. Elsa braced both arms against his downward swing, her feet now planted into the ground. Her right arm lashed out and connected with his helmet, staggering her adversary. She slammed two fists into his abdomen, then knocked away his counterattack with one elbow and struck his helmet once more with the other hand. A solid kick pushed the soldier back and he crashed into the wall.

Exhausted and in pain, her adversary staggered under his own weight and slid toward the floor. With one fluid motion Elsa ripped the helmet off his battered face. Blood was strewn all across his broken features, and the soldier gasped for breath, more red liquid bubbling from his mouth.

Elsa brought the disfigured helmet crashing down unto his head. There was a crunch as the helmet first punctured skin, then a squelch as Elsa slammed her knee into the back of the helmet.

When she verified that she soldier was dead Elsa fell to her knees, wincing at the pain as she glanced at her arms.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Her fingers, hands, and forearms were injured, mauled. Gashes covered the expanses of her skin, blood trickled from the open wounds. She hadn't noticed them during the fight, but she attributed the previous painlessness to adrenaline. The injuries would take their toll later.

Elsa sucked in a breath; the emotional turmoil and physical agony was almost too much to bear. But she wasn't safe yet. That thought alone kept her going. She could break down later, but she needed to get out.

She left the bloodied pulp of the soldier's head behind and slid over to Anna, who had already regained consciousness. "Are you alright?"

Her concern must have been uncharacteristic, given the events of the past two days, because the slight change in Anna's pained expression did not escape her gaze. "I'm good," came Anna's reply. "Just . . . very . . ."

Anna staggered against the wreck of the stasis cell, and Elsa struggled to hold her up. Yep, I'm definitely weaker than before. "We need to get out of here," Elsa said. "You've got a ride out, right?"

". . . yeah. Sure. Totally," came the response. Her former lover was too dazed to give a proper response. Elsa cursed her luck; first she lost her powers, now her big gun was disoriented and she had Merida's unconscious body to account for. How in tarnation would she manage an escape now?

Elsa left Anna leaning against the wall as she scrambled through the transport's hatch. From the opening she scanned the area; the transport had traveled considerable distance from the military base, but they were still inside Ashton City. And—

Three APCs were closing in on them.

Oh no.

She froze, even as she took stock of the new vehicles. Black-armoured, insignia-less. Standard black-ops design, and a common, almost recurring, theme of the soldiers that had been coming after them. Elsa's mind raced; in their current state there was no way the three of them could handle that amount of firepower. They'd need to bide their time. Perhaps pretend to surrender and let Hans' plan play out.

Their turret operators caught sight of Elsa's head poking out from the hatch, and they turned towards her, barrels spinning up. Oh for fuck's sake—

A flurry of lead slammed into the nearest APC, sending its mangled wreck skidding into the barriers on the highway sides. Amidst the explosions Elsa glanced upward; the deployment drone had arrived, its own autocannons firing upon the hostile vehicles behind them as it maintained a steady course over the truck, hovering above them to deploy cables.

God bless you, Anna.

"Come on," she said as she jumped back down to retrieve Anna and Merida. "We need to get out of here."

Gunfire raged on behind them as they emerged from the transport, Merida's body slung across Elsa's shoulder. The APCs had engaged the drone, and the aircraft's shields pulsed with every impact. Elsa was tempted to take some potshots herself, but even in her compromised state she had her priorities right. From the metal cables that dropped down she secured Anna to one, sent her up to the drone and wrapped the other around her leg and injured arm.

There was no other way to carry Merida without hurting her, so hurting herself would have to do. She could regret the pain that racked her arm when she was safe.

She regretted it as soon as the cable tugged her up. It was all she could do to hold on to Merida and not scream out from the pain. Elsa tumbled into the drone's bay, setting Merida down and tried to push herself up, arms covered with even more injuries than before.

Can barely . . . see straight. Got to get . . . out of here.

"What . . .?" Anna was kneeling on the floor of the drone, still gathering her bearings. "Where . . . are we going?"

Elsa managed to get over to the pilot seat without fainting; she glanced down through the windshield as the drone mopped up the last APC. Her mind raced; Anna raised a fair point, in that they couldn't just go back to Cradle Alpha. They'd been compromised, far earlier than they'd expected.

"Dark, Anna," Elsa replied as she reached over to trigger the drone's cloak, "We're going dark."