John Smith sat in the briefing room, his new commander's insignia still unfamiliar on his uniform. Just a day had passed since his so-called "graduation" into the role, and now, here he was, being handed his first mission. The speed of it all caught him off guard—he hadn't expected to be thrown into the field so soon. Still, he remained unconcerned. A mission was a mission, and he had no reason to question his orders.
The mission control operator, Shifty, addressed the room with brisk efficiency. "We've received intel about a Nikke search patrol in distress. You're being deployed as a quick reaction force to assist. Each of you will be paired with a team of Nikkes. Move swiftly—this situation could escalate fast."
John listened without much interest, his focus drifting as the operator continued. Shifty began listing the Nikke units and their assigned commanders. When she mentioned the name Marian, something about it tugged at his attention briefly, but his mind quickly started to wander. He wasn't one to get attached or worry about the details. After all, as an experienced sorcerer, he was confident that a beginner's mission for a newly graduated commander would be easy to handle.
Dismissed from the briefing, John moved through the motions of preparation with practiced ease. He slung on his heavy olive green standard issue trench coat, holstered his sidearm and left his commander's cap in his locker. He didn't bother acknowledging anyone as he boarded the transport ship, his mind already elsewhere. As he took his seat, he noticed a flash of somewhat familiar eyes in the periphery of his vision—bright and piercing, though he couldn't place where he had seen them before. He shrugged it off, sinking into his seat as the ship's engines roared to life.
Before he knew it, the gentle hum of the transport lulled him into sleep, his thoughts drifting to something far more mundane—a slice of apple pie, warm and sweet. The dream was vivid, almost tangible, the taste of the pie lingering on his tongue as he drifted deeper into slumber.
Suddenly, the world around him erupted into chaos.
The transport ship plummeted, flames licking at the fractured hull as it spiraled uncontrollably toward the ground. The acrid stench of burning metal filled the cabin, mingling with the sharp tang of smoke. Metal groaned and screamed, a cacophony of alarms blaring around him as the ship rattled with every violent shake. John's hand tightened around the armrest, his knuckles white, but his gaze remained fixed on the inferno outside the window. The ship shuddered violently, sending a jolt through his body as sparks erupted, tearing through the clouds. Despite the chaos, John's face remained a mask of calm, his mind coldly focused.
A blast rocked the ship, and suddenly the cabin filled with smoke and blinding light. The world tilted sharply, gravity yanking him upward, trying to tear him from his seat. For a brief moment, he floated, weightless in the tumbling wreckage. Then the ship nosedived, and everything slammed downward.
Impact. Metal screamed and twisted. Then… darkness.
Pain lanced through him as consciousness clawed its way back. The sharp taste of blood filled his mouth, mingling with the acrid scent of smoke. John lay pinned under a massive slab of debris, each breath a painful, laborious effort under the crushing weight on his chest. He could feel the cold metal pressing into his skin, the remnants of the crash strewn around him like a battlefield. Despite the agony and the rising panic, his mind remained eerily calm, his thoughts methodical. He needed to get out, but he couldn't risk revealing anything unusual. Not here. Not now.
The cursed energy pulsed beneath his skin, eager to be unleashed, a force ready to tear through the twisted metal with just a thought. But he hesitated. Here, surrounded by the wreckage and the possibility of survivors, he couldn't afford to slip. The Ark's residents knew nothing of cursed energy, and one wrong move could expose everything. Letting that power loose now would ruin all he had painstakingly constructed. His grip on the cursed energy tightened, his breath steadying as he forced himself to wait. He couldn't risk anyone seeing something they shouldn't.
As if the universe sensed his indecision, the debris shifted on its own, and the pressure on his chest lightened. A firm hand gripped his arm, yanking him free with surprising strength.
The cold air of reality flooded back in, and John gasped, his vision clearing. He looked up, directly into the eyes of his rescuer.
"Commander! Are you okay? Can you hear me? Smile if you can hear me!" Marian's voice was sharp, urgent, cutting through the lingering haze in his mind.
John blinked, grounding himself in the present. His gaze traveled over her form, taking in every detail—her crisp white garrison cap perched neatly atop her long, brown hair, the strands falling past her shoulders in soft waves with bangs framing her face. A blue ribbon tied her hair back, matching the blue of her necktie and detached sleeves that stood out against her sleeveless shirt. The brown belt around her waist added contrast, cinching the sharp lines of her outfit that seemed so out of place with the softness of her expression.
Her hands, encased in black gloves, rested at her sides, while her legs, clad in dark pantyhose, ended in polished black shoes that made each step seem both graceful and powerful. Everything about her presence was meticulously put together, a blend of elegance and strength that commanded attention.
And yet, none of it held him as fiercely as her eyes. He stared into them—purple, deep, alive with an unshakable determination.
But for a heartbeat, those eyes weren't hers.
The world around him blurred, the present dissolving into something darker. He was no longer on a crashed transport ship but submerged in a rushing torrent of dark, icy water. It surged over him, dragging him down, suffocating him. Bodies drifted in the current, their eyes wide, mouths twisted in silent screams. He tried to tear his gaze away, but it was drawn, inexorably, to a young girl—her lifeless eyes locking onto his, filled with an emptiness that mirrored the void in his own heart.
The water around her grew darker, blood seeping into the current, and her gaze sharpened, cold and accusing. Slowly, almost mechanically, her arm rose, her finger extending toward him, as if she were pointing directly at his soul. The weight of her silent accusation bore down on him, a chilling reminder of a guilt he could never escape. The pressure of the water increased, pulling him deeper into the darkness. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe.
And then, as suddenly as it came, the vision was gone.
"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice rough but steady. He pushed himself upright, testing his limbs, his movements precise and controlled. He glanced at Marian again, the unsettling similarity still echoing in his thoughts. "Marian, right?"
"Yes, Commander," she replied, nodding quickly. "We were attacked en route. The transport's down, and any Rapture nearby will be on us soon."
John took a deep breath, brushing the dust from his uniform with deliberate calm. The chaos, the crash, the flashback—it was all just noise, distractions he'd already compartmentalized. He nodded, his eyes sweeping over the wreckage around them. Twisted metal and scorched earth stretched out under a darkening sky, the remnants of the ship scattered like forgotten toys. There was no time to dwell on the past, no time for doubt.
Marian hesitated, her eyes lingering on him for a moment longer, concern flickering in their depths. "Commander, are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her voice softer now, almost tentative. "That crash…"
"It's nothing," John cut in, his tone clipped, final. He glanced at her, the echoes of the past still fresh in his mind. "We have a mission. Let's be ready."
John and Marian emerged from the wreckage of the crashed transport, the scene around them a chaotic landscape of twisted metal and shattered glass. The once-sturdy ship now lay in ruins, its charred remains smoldering against the ashen sky. The acrid stench of burning fuel filled the air, mingling with the sharper, more metallic scent of exposed circuitry and scorched wiring. Every breath was thick with smoke, each step crunching over debris that had once been part of their vessel.
John's senses were on high alert, his eyes narrowing as they swept over the destruction. The crash site was a beacon, a clear sign of vulnerability that would soon attract unwanted attention. His mind, ever calculating, began to map out their next moves with clinical precision. This was a situation that demanded swift, decisive action—any delay could prove fatal.
Beside him, Marian moved with practiced efficiency, her rifle held at the ready as she took point. Her posture was tense but controlled, her eyes scanning their surroundings with a sharpness that reflected her experience in the field. Every movement she made was deliberate, measured—there was no room for error here. Despite the chaos that had unfolded just moments ago, she exuded a calm focus, the kind that only came from countless battles and near-death experiences.
As they advanced cautiously through the wreckage, the remnants of their transport ship loomed around them like the skeleton of a great beast. The ground was littered with fragments of the ship's hull, twisted and blackened by the explosion that had brought them down. The heat from the still-burning sections of the wreckage radiated outward, creating an oppressive, stifling atmosphere that clung to their skin. John could feel the faint pulse of cursed energy within him, simmering just below the surface, a constant reminder of the power he kept carefully contained.
But it wasn't just his own energy he was aware of—there was something else, something foreign yet strangely familiar, emanating from Marian. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there, lurking beneath the surface. He pushed the sensation aside for now, focusing instead on the task at hand. There would be time to ponder these mysteries later—if they survived.
Suddenly, Marian froze, her rifle snapping up to her shoulder. "Commander, I've got movement—five o'clock, low to the ground," she whispered, her tone calm but urgent.
John followed her line of sight, his heart rate quickening as he spotted the telltale glint of metal limbs skittering through the debris. His mind immediately recognized the threat: Raptures. These weren't the hulking, destructive behemoths but smaller, spider-like drones designed for reconnaissance and skirmishes. Fast, deadly, and relentless.
"They're flanking us," John observed, his voice steady, betraying none of the tension rising within him. "We need to take them out before they surround us."
Marian nodded, her posture shifting into a defensive stance as she moved forward. "Please, stay behind me, Commander. I'll handle this."
John watched as Marian took the lead, her movements fluid and precise as she advanced on the approaching Raptures. Her rifle barked sharply, each burst of gunfire finding its mark with lethal efficiency. Yet, despite her skill, the numbers were against her. The Raptures moved with mechanical precision, encircling them, their numbers swelling as more crawled out from the shadows.
John's eyes darted to a chunk of debris nearby. Without hesitation, he let his cursed energy flow just enough to enhance his strength. With a swift motion, he picked up the debris and hurled it at the nearest Rapture. The metal flew through the air with the force of a bullet, smashing into the drone and sending it crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks.
Marian glanced back briefly, her eyes widening as she saw the destroyed Rapture. "Good throw, Commander," she called out, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and surprise. "But please, stay behind cover!"
John gritted his teeth. Damn, she noticed. He needed to be more careful. Drawing too much attention to himself was a mistake—he couldn't afford to let her or anyone else suspect what he was really capable of. He'd have to find a way to help without being seen.
"Focus on what's ahead, Marian," he said, keeping his voice level. "Watch your left—there's another group moving in."
Marian nodded and shifted her aim, firing at the approaching drones with precise, controlled bursts. Meanwhile, John moved silently to the side, keeping low as he scanned the battlefield for anything else he could use. He spotted a heavy piece of concrete, but this time, he made sure his position was obscured by the wreckage.
With a flick of his wrist, he sent the concrete hurtling toward a Rapture on Marian's blind side. The impact was devastating, but John was careful to stay hidden, ensuring Marian couldn't see where the attack had come from.
"Marian, two o'clock! Use that pile of rubble for cover—there's a choke point just behind it!" John shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos with calm authority. He kept himself partially hidden as he spoke, making sure her focus stayed on the battle, not on him.
Marian didn't hesitate. She sprinted toward the indicated position, her movements swift and sure. Just as she reached the cover, a barrage of Rapture fire tore through the air where she had been standing moments before. From her new vantage point, she unleashed a withering hail of bullets, taking down several more Raptures in quick succession.
The battlefield became a blur of motion. Marian moved with deadly precision, her rifle never wavering as she targeted the oncoming drones. Yet despite her efforts, the Raptures continued to swarm, their relentless advance forcing her to push herself to the limit. John stayed low, his cursed energy flowing through him as he manipulated the battlefield in subtle ways—flipping debris to trip up advancing Raptures, flinging small rocks to misdirect their sensors—all while ensuring his actions went unnoticed.
But the relentless assault began to take its toll. As Marian ducked to reload, a Rapture managed to land a glancing blow, its sharp limb slashing across her chest. The force of the impact sent her staggering back, her rifle slipping from her grasp as she instinctively brought a hand to her chest.
John's eyes narrowed as he saw the damage—a tear in Marian's uniform, dangerously close to the synthetic skin near her chest. The wound wasn't deep, but it had exposed enough to be a problem. Marian was trying to keep herself covered while continuing to fight, but the torn fabric was hampering her movements, making it difficult for her to maintain her usual precision.
Marian quickly regained her footing, but John could see the strain in her posture. She was trying to cover the tear with one hand while still holding her rifle, clearly uncomfortable and distracted.
She's too focused on keeping that covered, John thought, his mind working quickly. She won't be able to fight like this. He knew most commanders wouldn't care—they didn't see NIKKEs as anything more than tools. But John wasn't like most commanders.
"Marian, pull back to me," John ordered, his tone firm but with an edge of urgency. "Now."
She hesitated for just a second before obeying, retreating to his side while keeping her rifle trained on the remaining Raptures.
"Commander, I can still fight," she insisted, her voice resolute, but John wasn't listening to her words—his focus was on the tear in her uniform, the way she held herself to cover the exposed area. He knew she was embarrassed, trying to maintain her dignity even in the heat of battle.
"Yeah, I dont doubt that," he replied, his tone light as he shrugged off his commander's coat. "But not if you're worried about giving the enemy an eyeful."
Without waiting for a response, he draped the coat over her shoulders, making sure it covered the tear completely. The coat was oversized for her smaller frame, but that wasn't the point. "Keep this on," he added, his voice steady but with a hint of his usual flippant attitude.
Marian looked up at him, surprise flashing in her eyes before she quickly adjusted the coat. The fabric was heavy and protective, but more importantly, it allowed her to focus on the fight rather than her exposed chest. "Thank you, Commander," she said softly, her voice carrying a mix of gratitude and relief.
John gave her a half-smirk, his expression nonchalant. "Don't mention it. Besides, it looks better on you anyway."
Marian blinked, clearly caught off guard by the compliment. She didn't quite know how to respond, but the corner of her mouth quirked up in a small smile.
"Now, let's finish this," John said, turning his attention back to the remaining Raptures. "We've got more of them closing in from the east. Stay close and let's get it done."
With renewed focus, Marian nodded and raised her rifle, moving with more confidence now that she wasn't worried about the tear. She stayed close to John, still intent on protecting him, while he continued to assist discreetly, ensuring his actions went unnoticed.
The remaining Raptures fell quickly under their combined assault, and soon the battlefield fell silent, save for the crackling of fires in the distance. Marian lowered her rifle, breathing heavily but with a look of quiet satisfaction on her face. John surveyed the area one last time, ensuring there were no remaining threats.
"Let's move before more of them show up," he said, his voice back to its usual, laid-back tone. "The rendezvous point isn't far."
Marian looked down at the commander's coat draped over her, adjusting it with a small, appreciative smile. "I'll return this to you as soon as we're safe, Commander."
"Keep it," John replied, already turning to lead the way. "You make it look good."
"Thank you, Commander," Marian finally said, her voice softer as she adjusted the trench coat around her shoulders. The fabric was heavy, draping over her frame like a shield. She could feel its warmth, an unfamiliar sensation for someone like her—a Nikke used to being treated as little more than a tool. "I'll take good care of it."
John shrugged casually, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Don't worry about it. Let's move before more of them show up. The rendezvous point isn't far."
Without waiting for a response, John took the lead, his posture relaxed yet alert. Marian followed closely, her eyes flicking between the path ahead and the man guiding her. The city around them was a labyrinth of destruction, the remnants of a world that had long since crumbled. Once-towering skyscrapers now lay in ruins, their twisted steel frames reaching toward the sky like skeletal hands. The streets, once alive with the hum of daily life, were now eerily silent, the occasional distant rumble or echo of falling debris the only reminders of the destruction that had befallen this place.
What caught Marian off guard, though, wasn't the devastation—it was John. He moved through the ruins with an ease that didn't make sense, not for someone supposedly on their first mission. His steps were confident, almost too confident, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings with the sharpness of someone who had done this many times before. He seemed to anticipate every obstacle, directing Marian to follow him through narrow alleyways, beneath crumbling overpasses, and across precarious bridges that spanned deep chasms where the city had split apart.
"Commander," Marian's voice broke the silence, her tone cautious but curious. "You seem… awfully familiar with this kind of terrain. According to your record, this is your first mission."
John didn't miss a beat, flashing her a grin that bordered on cocky. "First official mission, yeah. But let's just say I've had plenty of unofficial experience. Urban ruins like this? They're all the same—once you know what to look for."
Marian tilted her head slightly, still watching him with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "What should I be looking for?"
John glanced back at her, his grin widening. "Look for signs that the city's been shifting—loose debris, disturbed dust, that sort of thing. It means the structure's unstable or that something's moved through recently. And always listen for echoes. In places like this, sound travels weirdly, but if you know what you're hearing, it can tell you where the danger is before you see it."
Marian nodded, absorbing the information. Despite his nonchalant attitude, there was no denying that John knew what he was talking about. Still, it didn't quite add up, and she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than he was letting on. His calm demeanor, his almost cavalier attitude—it didn't match what she expected from a Commander on his first mission. But there was something reassuring about it, something that made her trust him despite the oddity of it all.
They continued their careful journey through the city's ruins, John leading them with the confidence of someone who knew every crack and shadow of the urban jungle. As they approached a large open square, the remnants of a once-bustling marketplace, John held up a hand, signaling for Marian to stop. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the area, taking in the faint tracks left by Raptures that had passed through recently. He frowned, his instincts prickling with the sense of a trap.
"Too exposed here," he murmured, more to himself than to Marian. After a moment, he turned to her with a decisive nod. "We'll go around. There's an underground passage just ahead—it should lead us closer to the rendezvous without drawing attention. Stick close, and keep your eyes open."
Marian followed without question, trusting his judgment implicitly. As they descended into the passage, the darkness closed in around them, the air growing damp and heavy with the scent of mold and decay. John moved steadily, his senses sharp, every step deliberate. He could feel the subtle shifts in the air, hear the distant echoes of potential danger, but the passage remained eerily silent.
Marian, walking close behind him, hesitated before speaking, the thought weighing on her. "Commander… this is different. Most Commanders, they don't treat us Nikkes like you do. They… don't really care."
John glanced back at her, his expression softening briefly. "We are a team, Marian. And I look out for my team, no exceptions." He then flashed a quick grin, adding with a wink, "Besides, can't have my first mission going off the rails. Gotta make a good impression, right?"
She smiled, a small but genuine expression that seemed to light up the darkness around them. "You're different, Commander. I… I'm glad I'm under your command."
"Glad to have you with me, Marian," John replied, his voice carrying an easy confidence. "Just stick with me, and we'll get through this. I promise."
They emerged on the other side of the passage, the city above seeming quieter, as if the worst of the Rapture patrols had been left behind. The buildings gradually gave way to more open spaces, the desolation of the urban landscape becoming more pronounced as they neared the outskirts. John continued to lead them, his eyes always scanning for movement, his mind constantly calculating the next best move.
As they approached the rendezvous point, John slowed their pace, raising a hand for caution. The area ahead was littered with the remnants of battle—shattered Raptures, spent shell casings, and scorch marks from energy weapons. The tension in the air was palpable, the silence almost oppressive.
"Stay alert," John murmured to Marian, his voice low and measured. "This doesn't look good."
Marian nodded, her rifle at the ready, her eyes sharp as she surveyed the battlefield. "Roger that, Commander. I've got your six."
John moved forward carefully, every sense on high alert as they navigated the treacherous terrain. The signs of combat were fresh, the ground still warm from recent explosions. It was clear that whatever had happened here, they were not the first to arrive.
As John and Marian approached the rendezvous point, the eerie silence was interrupted by the distant crackle of gunfire. The two moved cautiously, their senses heightened, as the ruins of the city loomed ominously around them.
They rounded a corner and spotted two Nikkes entrenched behind a makeshift barricade. One of them, Rapi, had a calm and collected demeanor. Her long light-brown hair peeked out from under a black beret, and she was clad in a sleek black outfit with red-orange accents, her assault rifle held ready in her hands. The other, Anis, was more animated, her frustration evident as she paced restlessly. She had short brown hair, yellow-brown eyes, and a curvier figure accentuated by her form-fitting black jacket and crop top. A grenade launcher hung from her shoulder, and several 40mm grenades were strapped to her gear.
"How long are we going to wait here?!" Anis exclaimed, her voice tinged with impatience and anxiety. "We're sitting ducks out here!"
"We'll wait until they come," Rapi responded evenly, her gaze steady as she scanned the horizon.
Anis threw her hands up in exasperation. "Did you not see how hard they went down?! You saw that explosion! What are the odds of them coming out of that alive?"
"We haven't received any confirmation of death," Rapi replied, her tone resolute.
"So we're waiting here until we do? This is absurd!"
Before Rapi could respond, Marian stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension. "Everyone! Friendlies approaching from behind!"
Anis jumped, spinning around with a startled expression. "Ah! You scared me!"
Rapi's eyes widened slightly as she saw Marian and John approaching. "Marian? The Commander is here with you?"
Anis stared at them in disbelief. "Are you serious? How did you survive that explosion? I get that you're a Nikke, but isn't that one a human?!"
John stepped forward with a grin, his tone light and playful. "Built different, I guess."
Anis narrowed her eyes, suspicion evident in her gaze. "Huh, what are you on about? That explosion was massive…Something's fishy about this. Are you really the Commander?"
"Last time I checked," John replied with a teasing smirk. "But feel free to double-check. Wouldn't want to disappoint."
Rapi stepped forward, her expression serious. "Excuse me for a moment." She activated her scanner, her eyes narrowing as she read the Commander identification code. After a moment, she nodded. "The squad 04-F Commander has changed."
Anis looked taken aback. "Rapi, we don't even know them! How could you—"
Rapi cut her off, her voice firm. "Now's not the time to argue! There are Raptures right ahead of us."
Anis grumbled but couldn't deny the truth in Rapi's words. "Well… that much is true."
Rapi turned back to John, her expression resolute. "From now on, you're in command. As our former Commander is unable to issue orders at present, no formal procedures are necessary to transfer authority. The situation is urgent. I'll explain the details once the battle is over."
John nodded, his demeanor becoming more serious. "Understood."
Rapi then turned to Marian, her tone curious but focused. "You said your name was Marian? What branch are you from?"
"Silver Gun," Marian replied. "Machine Gunner."
Anis, still skeptical, glanced at Marian before checking her credentials. After a moment, she nodded, satisfied. "…It checks out."
There was a brief pause before Anis turned back to John. "Alright, Commander. What's the next move?"
John quickly assessed the situation. The area was crawling with Raptures, their mechanical forms lurking in the shadows. The remnants of recent battles were scattered across the battlefield, and the tension in the air was palpable.
"First, we clear the immediate area of Raptures," John said, his voice calm but authoritative. "Then we regroup and move to Commercial Street—it's too dangerous to stay here."
Rapi nodded in agreement. "Yes, Commander."
Anis grinned, her earlier frustration giving way to a more eager stance. "Let's get this party started!"
The team moved swiftly into position, following John's lead. As they advanced, the Raptures emerged from the shadows, their mechanical limbs clicking menacingly against the rubble. John remained calm, his eyes darting across the battlefield as he issued orders.
"Rapi, take the left flank! Anis, cover the right with suppression fire! Marian, hold the center and keep their advance in check!" John's voice was steady, cutting through the chaos.
Rapi moved with precision, her assault rifle firing in controlled bursts as she systematically took down the Raptures on her side. Anis, true to her explosive nature, unleashed a barrage of grenades, the concussive blasts echoing through the ruins as she decimated the enemy ranks.
Marian held the center, her machine gun roaring as she laid down a relentless stream of fire. The Raptures tried to push forward, but her accuracy and sheer firepower kept them at bay.
John watched the battle unfold, his mind racing as he analyzed the situation. A group of Raptures was attempting to flank Marian, their stealthy approach almost undetectable amidst the chaos. With a quick movement, John flicked his wrist, using his cursed energy to discreetly send a chunk of debris hurtling toward the Raptures. The impact caught them off guard, disrupting their advance.
"Marian, shift your fire to the right! You've got incoming!" John called out.
Marian responded instantly, adjusting her aim and mowing down the Raptures that had been trying to flank her. She glanced back at John, her eyes briefly reflecting surprise at his keen awareness.
The battle raged on, with John's tactical guidance keeping the team in sync. He continued to provide support, subtly using his cursed energy to tip the scales whenever the situation grew too intense. The Raptures were relentless, but under John's command, the team remained one step ahead, outmaneuvering and outgunning their mechanical foes.
Finally, the last Rapture fell, its metallic carcass clattering to the ground. Anis lowered her grenade launcher with a satisfied grin. "Well, that was easy," she quipped. "Looks like we've got a decent Commander after all."
Rapi approached John, her tone nuetral. "We're Rapi and Anis. Thanks for the assistance, Commander."
Marian, still catching her breath, turned to John, her expression curious. "Rapi… why did you ask my Commander to take lead of your squad all of a sudden? It's not exactly common practice."
Rapi's silence spoke volumes, and Anis' earlier grin faded as she processed the situation.
"He tried to shoot at the Raptures with a human weapon," Anis explained, her voice tinged with sadness. "Hurling obscenities at them all the while. He knew those pea shooters couldn't put a dent in a Rapture, but…"
Marian's expression hardened, her voice carrying a sharp edge. "You two failed in your duties. You let him die."
Anis bristled at the accusation but kept her voice steady. "You're wrong! We've always been willing to protect the Commander, no matter what, even if that meant sacrificing ourselves! But just because we're willing to put our lives on the line doesn't mean he'll always be safe…"
There was a heavy silence as Marian considered Anis' words, the weight of them hanging in the air. Finally, she nodded, the anger in her gaze softening. "…I see."
Rapi, sensing the need to move on, addressed John. "Commander, could you tell us your name?"
"Just call me John," he replied, his voice lightening.
Anis quickly accessed her console, checking his background. After a moment, she looked up, surprised. "This Commander… he's a total rookie."
Rapi's eyes widened slightly. "…What?"
Anis smirked, shaking her head in disbelief. "He just graduated from the military academy yesterday."
John chuckled, unfazed by the revelation. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."
Rapi regained her composure, her focus returning. "Let's move to Commercial Street. It's too dangerous here."