Authors Note: for all the Lads and Lasses reading this story and which got a Notfication today. Sorry guys I accidentally published a not finished version of the chapter.
By the way, y'all want me to answer your Reviews in the story ANs?
Chapter 4 - The Beginnings
Mapgrid Two-Six-Six-Niner-One-Five
Strike Force-2
The four operatives stood still, tension hanging in the air as they waited for something—anything—to happen. Ice had informed them that the support element would be arriving in approximately one minute. But the timer now read five minutes past, and still, there was no sign of them.
"Where the bloody hell are they?" Whiskey muttered, breaking the uneasy silence that had settled over the group.
Pops opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a sharp, cracking noise echoed through the night, seemingly from nowhere. The sound sent an involuntary shiver down their spines, and all four MTF operatives immediately snapped into action, rifles up, scanning the area for threats. Yet, there was nothing—no movement, no danger they could see.
Just as they were about to question it, a sudden burst of light pierced the darkness. Pops groaned, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding glow. The oppressive blackness of the night made the single dot of light burn even brighter, like a distant star. But then it began to stretch, expanding into a fine, glowing line that cut through the air like a blade of pure energy.
"Kurwa… the fuck is this?" Polak muttered, eyes wide as he stared into the growing crack of light.
"I think we should step back a little," Ares suggested, already moving cautiously backward, his instincts on high alert.
True to his word, the line of light began to shift, widening and deepening as though reality itself was splitting apart. The crack formed faster than any of them could react, and in an instant, a shockwave blasted outward from the rift—silent but powerful, tossing the four operatives back like ragdolls.
Pops hit the ground hard, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of him. His vision blurred for a moment before he slowly regained his composure. Blinking rapidly, he realized he was staring directly at a Hesco barrier that hadn't been there before. It was filled with sand, already in place as if it had appeared from thin air.
With a groan, Pops pushed himself up, shaking his head to clear the fog from the rough landing. He glanced around, spotting Whiskey striding toward him with his usual, almost unsettling calmness.
"Get up, lad," Whiskey said, extending a hand to Pops, seemingly unfazed by the fact they had just been hurled like paper in a gust of wind.
Pops grabbed his hand, pulling himself to his feet. He took a moment to survey the scene. The area that had been empty just moments ago was now filled with makeshift barriers, crates, and equipment. The support element had arrived, but not in the way they had expected.
Polak stood a few feet away, rubbing the back of his neck with a grimace. "Well, that was one hell of an entrance."
"Get down on your knees!" a sudden voice barked, causing all four operatives to flinch, reflexively dropping into crouches as their instincts kicked in.
"Hold your horses, dipshit. These are our guys," another voice reprimanded the first. The two voices had come from behind them, taking all four MTFs off guard, as there had been nothing there before.
Pops turned his head, a sly smile creeping onto his face as he took in the figures now standing before them. "Support element?" he asked.
"Strike Force?" the MTF agent on the right shot back, a smile evident beneath his balaclava.
As the two MTF operatives exchanged a few words, Whiskey and Polak wandered further into the newly formed forward operating base, which had seemingly appeared out of thin air. They immediately took notice of the vehicles—tanks, APCs, IFVs, and the two helicopters that had been mentioned in the briefing. But something was new. No one had said anything about artillery.
"We got M777s?" Polak asked, his eyes glued to the large artillery guns before him. He didn't even glance at Whiskey, knowing full well the Brit was staring at them too.
"I guess so… Hope they brought some Copperheads or White Phosphorous," Whiskey muttered under his breath.
Polak scoffed, finally looking at Whiskey with an exasperated expression. "You serious? We're not here to check off the Geneva Convention violations, mate."
Whiskey's only response was a stupid grin.
The next morning at the Castle
[Redacted] Call Sign "Ice"
Ice lay in his bed, already awake for hours. Normally by now, he'd be on a mission, re-containing an anomaly like SCP-173 or another deadly creature that had escaped containment… again. But today, here in this strange world, he just lay there. His gear was neatly arranged on the nightstand, and his rifle rested beside him, ready at a moment's notice to be aimed and fired at any poor soul foolish enough to enter without his consent.
His thoughts drifted between memories of containment breaches and the peculiar circumstances of this new world. The stillness was broken by a subtle knock on his door.
"Shield Hero!" came a muffled voice from the other side. "It's time."
With a resigned sigh, Ice swung his legs over the side of the bed, swiftly gearing up. Despite the weight of his armor and tactical gear, he was the first to arrive in the throne room.
The room was packed. What had been a relatively quiet meeting the day before—just the king, a few advisors, and one or two high generals—had now turned into an event. Half the town seemed to be gathered, dozens of adventurers, advisors, and guards filling the grand hall. The air buzzed with murmurs and whispers, and Ice felt the weight of their stares on him.
The king's gaze, in particular, seemed to linger. Ice could feel it—a cold, calculated look that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Something's off… Ice thought, his instincts kicking in. Is it tied to what happened yesterday, when the king practically ignored me?
His musings were cut short as the other three heroes filed in behind him. Ice glanced back, prepared to ask them what had taken so long, but the question died on his lips when he saw them. Each was dressed in ornate medieval armor, adorned with gleaming gems and intricate designs that seemed to reflect the light of the room.
Ice's eyebrow raised beneath his balaclava. Fancy, he thought, resisting the urge to scoff. They looked like they had just stepped out of a fantasy novel, while he remained in his modern combat gear, out of place and yet completely prepared for the reality of danger.
Whatever was happening here, Ice knew it was more than just a ceremony. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. He stayed on edge, eyes scanning the room, ready for anything.
"Hey!" Ren hissed, stepping closer to Ice. "Where's your armor?!"
Ice shot him a sideways glance, his voice low and sharp. "What fuckin' armor?"
Ren looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "What do you mean, 'what armor'?! The armor we're all wearing!" He gestured to his own gleaming gear as if the answer were obvious. "Some maids came in after you left and brought four sets of armor. They handed three of them to us and said they were saving the last one for you. Didn't you want it, or what?"
Ice opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his tongue as the King's booming voice echoed through the throne room, cutting through the murmurs and whispers.
"Welcome, brave Heroes!" King Aultcray declared, his tone commanding the room's attention. The crowd went silent, all eyes turning toward the throne. Ice's sharp instincts told him something was off, but he kept his face unreadable behind the balaclava and tinted goggles. He didn't care about fancy armor or jewels—he cared about staying alive and completing his mission. Everything else was noise.
"Today". the King continued, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent of something cold, "we will assign adventurers to accompany each of you. These fine men and women will support you in your battles against the Waves of Calamity, and with their aid, you shall grow stronger".
"I mean yeah, we could go with some random adventurers. Or we do what would be the smartest thing and just fight along with the other Heroes", Itsuki suggested.
The king looked over to one of the many mages which stood on his side. The mage taking the hint nodded and faced the Heroes.
"It is NOT possible for the Four Cardinal Weapons to be near each other for extended periods," the advisor explained sternly. "The weapons contain immense, conflicting energies, and when they're brought too close together, they will react. It's as though the weapons themselves are alive, each resisting the presence of the others. If they remain in proximity for too long, they'll actively repel each other—like magnets with the same polarity—trying to push each other away."
He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "If forced together for too long, the resulting strain could cause dangerous, unforeseen consequences. But," the advisor continued, his voice dropping, "these rules are lifted once a Wave begins. During that time, the Heroes are almost forced to fight alongside each other, whether they like it or not."
As if on cue, a small window appeared in Ice's and the other Heroes' field of view—floating in mid-air like a system message from a video game. The window displayed a large "i" encircled, and beneath it, a message was laid out just like a hint screen in a game:
"Notice: The Four Cardinal Heroes must keep their distance from each other until a Wave begins. Attempting to gather the weapons together outside of a Wave event will result in negative consequences."
Ice blinked, instinctively reaching up as if to swipe the notification away, but it remained fixed in his view until he acknowledged it.
"This… This really is like a game," Itsuki muttered, staring at the message with wide eyes.
Ren and Motoyasu exchanged uneasy glances. Ice, however, remained stoic, processing the situation. His tactical mind was already breaking it down. So, they're locking us into separate paths until we're absolutely needed. Keeps us from banding together unless the situation forces us to.
The message flickered once again before disappearing from his field of view. The throne room felt heavier, the tension palpable as the heroes digested what this meant.
"Is there any way to circumvent this?" Ren asked, his tone measured but edged with curiosity.
The advisor shook his head. "No. The forces behind the Cardinal Weapons are ancient and unyielding. Their power demands separation to avoid unnecessary strain on the world around them. Your paths will remain separate… until the Waves force you to unite."
Ice crossed his arms, scanning the room for any signs of the game at play here. The king remained silent, watching, but his eyes betrayed something—he knew more.
"Then I suppose we have no choice but to play by the rules of this world," Ice muttered, almost to himself.
A deep, ominous silence hung over the room as everyone considered the implications.
The advisor cleared his throat, regaining the attention of the room. "Prepare yourselves, Heroes. The next Wave is not far off. The Kingdom will provide what you need, but know this—the Waves grow stronger, and even with the power of your weapons, this world may not survive if you fail."
Ice's eyes narrowed, his mind already racing through strategies. Whether or not this is some game, I'm going to be ready.
While on it, Ice thought to himself why not explore the interface of this game world thingy, he wasn't really interested in what honor speech the King held there. So he flicked through the pages, inspecting the player menu, his level, all the shield variants still locked and all the other suff that came with the transportation into this world.
Forward Operating base "Station"
"Overlord, this is Station. We've arrived safely in the other world and are now readying to begin operations. Over," came the gruff voice of the FOB commander, call sign "Kasier." His tone was steady as the base hummed with activity, every operative and crew member moving with purpose.
Seconds later, the response came from Site-19, sharp and precise. "Station, this is Overlord. Solid copy. You are free to begin operations inside the other world. Overlord out."
Commander Paladin didn't waste any time. He barked orders as the MTF operatives, including Strike Force, moved swiftly to prepare for their mission. Pops, Polak, Whiskey, and Ares—members of Strike Force—were already geared up and making final checks on their equipment.
"Alright, listen up," Pops growled, gathering his team near the command tent. "We're moving out toward Castletown soon to link up with Ice. I want everything squared away before we leave".
Polak tightened the straps on his gear, his rifle slung across his chest. "Vehicles ready?"
Whiskey glanced over at the nearest JLTV, checking its systems with the maintenance crew. "Tanks, APCs, IFVs—all good to go. They're just finishing up the checks. Should be ready to roll in ten."
Pops' voice cut through the air, surprising the operatives. "No vehicles for this one, boys. We're on foot."
Whiskey turned to him, his disbelief evident. "Why?"
Pops didn't hesitate. "For one, we have no reliable intel on the roads here. Sure, we have topographical maps of this world, but those maps are from the last venture, and things have likely changed since then. We can't risk running into something we can't handle."
Whiskey frowned, still unconvinced. "And the second reason?"
Pops crossed his arms, his tone firm. "We need to stay low and quiet. A JLTV or an APC rumbling through the countryside isn't exactly subtle. We'll draw too much attention, and the last thing we want is to announce our arrival before we even reach Castletown."
Ares nodded, understanding the logic immediately. "Makes sense. While we won't move faster without the Victors, we be able to adapt to whatever we find."
Whiskey sighed but relented, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "Fine, but if we run into trouble, I'm blaming you."
Pops smirked, shaking his head. "Noted. Now, gear up. We'll be moving light and fast. Only bring what you can carry."
Polak, who had remained silent, simply adjusted his gear and fell in line with the others. He preferred the silence of a foot mission anyway, and Pops was right—stealth was critical if they wanted to avoid unnecessary confrontations.
The four operatives made their final checks, ensuring their equipment was secured and ammunition was plentiful. Around them, the FOB continued its preparations, though Strike Force-2's plan had shifted. Instead of rolling out with a convoy, they'd be infiltrating the area on foot, moving under the radar.
Pops stepped forward, gathering his team for a quick briefing. "Listen up. We'll be heading northeast toward Castletown. We move in staggered formation, keep comms open, and stay sharp. There's still a lot we don't know about this world. Assume the worst and expect things to change quickly."
The team gave short nods, acknowledging the plan. They had been through worse situations before—unknown terrain and lack of intel were practically standard for the SCP Foundation.
"Alright, we're Oscar Mike in five," Pops added, signaling the final countdown to move out.
Whiskey, still adjusting to the idea of trekking on foot, muttered, "Guess I won't be needing my shades for this one."
Polak chuckled under his breath, while Ares simply checked his rifle again, eyes scanning the horizon.
Five minutes later, Strike Force-2 began their march, moving with precision and silence. The terrain was unfamiliar, the sky above painted with a light gray that hinted at an approaching storm. The land stretched before them, a blend of wilderness and patches of farmland, with no immediate signs of danger.
As they moved, Pops kept an eye on the terrain, mentally comparing it to the outdated maps they had been provided. They would have to rely on their instincts more than anything else—something they had grown accustomed to over the years.
The cold morning wind picked up, rustling the trees around them as they pushed forward. Castletown was still a few days away, and though the journey ahead was uncertain, each of them knew that once they reached Ice, things would only get more complicated.
Back at Castle town
Castle
[Redacted] Call Sign "Ice"
As the king's voice echoed throughout the throne room, adventurers began stepping forward to align themselves with the three other heroes. The room hummed with excitement and anticipation as warriors, mages, and other adventurers made their choices.
Motoyasu, with his characteristic flair, was immediately surrounded by eager, mostly female adventurers. His overconfidence seemed to attract a mix of both seasoned fighters and bright-eyed rookies. Ren and Itsuki, more reserved but no less impressive, also gathered their teams—each selecting adventurers who seemed best suited to their respective fighting styles.
Ice, however, stood apart, watching the scene unfold. His presence, as the Shield Hero, was met with far less enthusiasm. The adventurers avoided eye contact, their gazes sliding past him as if they feared being associated with him. He wasn't surprised. The setup was clear, and the king had already laid the groundwork for the Shield Hero to be seen as weak and undeserving of respect.
Still, Ice remained calm, his mind assessing the situation. He didn't need a crowd of adventurers; he needed allies who could see beyond the manipulation and propaganda. As the adventurers formed their parties around the Sword, Spear, and Bow Heroes, Ice stood alone.
Finally, the King cleared his throat and spoke, his voice carrying authority. "It seems that most adventurers have made their choice," he announced, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before resting on Ice. "However, it appears the Shield Hero stands without companions."
The room grew quiet. The tension was palpable as whispers spread among the gathered adventurers, none of them daring to step forward. The king's lips curled into a thin smile, as if this were exactly what he had expected. Ice narrowed his eyes behind his tinted goggles, the pieces of the game falling into place.
"Fear not, Shield Hero," the king continued, his voice almost mocking. "Even if no one chooses to accompany you, we will not let you face the dangers of this world alone."
At that moment, the redhead from before—the one who had shown interest in Ice—stepped forward. Her movements were graceful, her presence confident as she approached him with a smile. "I will fight by the Shield Hero's side," she declared, her voice loud enough to silence the murmurs in the room.
The adventurers around her shifted uncomfortably, clearly unsure of her decision. Still, she stood unwavering, her eyes locked on Ice as if daring anyone to challenge her.
"Very well," the king said, sounding pleased with this outcome. "It is decided. The Shield Hero will not be left to face the Waves alone."
Ice remained quiet, his instincts screaming that there was more to this than a simple act of kindness. He knew better than to trust a convenient ally in a situation like this. But for now, he would play along, at least until he could figure out what was really going on behind the scenes.
As the adventurers finished aligning themselves with their chosen heroes, the king spoke once more, his tone turning more serious. "Now, Heroes, you must prepare. Your task is not only to grow in strength but to protect this kingdom from the calamities known as the Waves. The first Wave is fast approaching, and the people will look to you to defend them."
The room fell silent as the weight of the king's words sank in. The Waves were not just some distant event—they were coming soon, and with them, the real battle would begin.
But there was something different about how the king described the Waves this time. Ice caught a subtle shift in his tone, as if there was more to the Waves than even the other heroes knew.
"These Waves," the king continued, "are not just random occurrences. They are a reflection of the balance between our world and the unknown realms beyond. Each time a Wave occurs, that balance is shaken, and creatures of untold power emerge, seeking to destroy our world and shift the balance in their favor."
Ice's eyes narrowed slightly as he listened. The other heroes seemed to accept the explanation without question, but something about the way the king described the nature of the Waves felt off to him. It sounded too rehearsed, too polished. There was something beneath the surface, something that the king wasn't telling them.
"The first Wave will strike soon," the king concluded. "You must prepare yourselves and your parties. Grow in strength, gather resources, and be ready. The future of this kingdom, of this world, rests on your shoulders."
The crowd of adventurers cheered, rallying around the heroes they had chosen. Meanwhile, Ice stood in silence, his thoughts racing. He needed to learn more about the true nature of the Waves, and fast. Something told him that this wasn't just about monsters and calamities—it was about control, power, and who held the keys to both.
As the room slowly began to clear, the redhead—his newly assigned companion—approached him once more.
"Hello! The name is Myne. I'm glad you're not like the others," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I think we're going to make a great team."
Ice gave her a curt nod, but inwardly, he remained guarded. He would play along for now, but he was already planning his next move. If there was one thing he had learned in all his time dealing with anomalies and threats, it was that things were rarely as simple as they seemed.
As the crowd began to disperse and the adventurers filtered out of the throne room, the king signaled for the heroes to stay behind. His voice echoed with authority as he addressed them once more.
"Now that your teams have been assigned, there is one final matter to attend to before you begin your preparations," King Aultcray announced. His gaze swept over the four heroes, lingering briefly on Ice before continuing. "You will need resources for your journey—supplies, weapons, and equipment—and, as such, the kingdom will provide each of you with a sum of money to aid in your endeavors."
A servant appeared from a side door, carrying a chest filled with small, neatly stacked bags of gold coins. The clinking sound of the gold was unmistakable as the servant approached the heroes, the weight of the chest clear as he set it down before the throne.
Motoyasu, ever the opportunist, was the first to step forward. His eyes gleamed as he eagerly accepted his share of the gold. "Much appreciated, Your Majesty," he said with a confident smirk, already imagining the new gear and supplies he could purchase with the fortune.
Ren followed, offering a brief nod as he took his portion. Itsuki, though more humble in his demeanor, accepted his share with a polite word of thanks, his mind clearly focused on the task ahead.
When it was Ice's turn, the room seemed to tense slightly. The king's eyes hardened as he looked at him, but his expression remained outwardly calm. The redhead stood at Ice's side, a soft smile on her lips as the servant handed Ice his bag of gold.
However, Ice immediately noticed something off. The bag of coins he received felt lighter—considerably lighter—than the ones given to the other heroes. He weighed it in his hand subtly, his mind already calculating the difference. This is no accident, he thought, his suspicions about the king deepening.
"This gold should cover your immediate needs," the king said, his tone smooth, as though nothing was amiss. "Use it wisely, Heroes, for you will face great challenges ahead". Aultcray glanced over at Ice. He was prepared for the Shield hero to sas something—anything. But Ice however, remained silent, his expression hidden behind his balaclava and tinted goggles, but inwardly he was already piecing together the king's game. The other three heroes, too wrapped up in their own excitement, hadn't noticed the discrepancy, but Ice wasn't about to let it slide. Not yet, anyway.
As the transaction was completed, the king's advisors stepped forward, reminding the heroes of their responsibilities and the dangers of the approaching Wave.
"You should begin your preparations immediately," one of the advisors spoke, his tone formal. "Gather your supplies, train your teams, and be ready for the call to arms. The Waves wait for no one."
The heroes gave their acknowledgments, each of them preparing to depart for the city to begin their journeys. Ice, however, lingered for a moment longer, his hand resting lightly on the bag of gold. He could feel the weight of the redhead's eyes on him as she stood by his side.
"Well, looks like we have what we need," she said cheerfully, her voice breaking the silence between them. "Shall we head into the city and get started?"
Ice gave a slight nod, but his thoughts were already elsewhere. He had no intention of letting the king's deceitful game go unchecked, but for now, he needed to play along, gather information, and figure out just how deep the manipulation went.
As he and Myne turned to leave the throne room, Ice cast one last glance at the king, whose cold gaze followed him out. The game was just beginning, and Ice knew that it was one he couldn't afford to lose.
The marketplace buzzed with activity as Ice and Myne made their way through the crowded streets, vendors shouting their wares to the passersby. Myne moved with ease, pointing out different items as though they were on a casual shopping trip, her cheerful demeanor contrasting with the quiet tension building in Ice's mind.
"Oh, look at that armor," she said, gesturing to a nearby stall where polished plate armor gleamed under the sunlight. "It might not be as 'otherworldly' as what you've got on, but it would certainly help you look the part of a hero."
Ice barely responded, his attention divided between the too-light pouch of gold at his waist and the subtle glances the vendors exchanged with Myne. There was something off about the way everyone was reacting to her. She's more in control than she lets on, he thought.
They passed another stall, and Ice couldn't help but notice the way prices fluctuated as soon as Myne got involved. The vendors seemed to adjust their prices based on her reactions, not his, as if they were answering to her more than the so-called Shield Hero.
"You know," Myne said after a pause, glancing back at him with a curious smile, "for someone I'm supposed to fight alongside, I don't even know your name. 'Shield Hero' seems so formal, don't you think?"
Ice met her gaze briefly before responding in his usual cold, detached tone. "Call me Ice."
"Myne's smile widened, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Ice, huh? Fitting. Strong, simple." She chuckled softly. "Well, Ice, it's good to finally put a name to the shield. I'm sure we'll make a great team."
Ice didn't reply, keeping his attention on the market. Every transaction they made only deepened his suspicions. The vendors seemed more focused on Myne, adjusting their behavior and prices according to her cues. It wasn't the typical haggling one might expect in a market—it was more like they were carefully playing their part in a larger scheme.
But Ice kept his thoughts to himself. He wouldn't reveal what he knew, not yet. Play along for now, he thought, see what she's up to.
Myne led the way through the market, pausing at a stall filled with glowing potions. "We should pick up some more of these," she suggested, her tone bright and innocent. "They'll be useful when the Waves hit."
Ice gave a small nod, watching as she haggled with the vendor. He noticed the way the man's eyes flickered toward Myne for approval before he set the price. It was a small detail, but one that confirmed Ice's suspicions—Myne was pulling the strings here, not him.
The two of them wandered further into the bustling marketplace, the noise of merchants and townsfolk surrounding them. Ice remained silent, keeping a close eye on Myne's every move. As they passed a small stall selling maps of the surrounding lands, Ice saw his opportunity to ask a question that had been gnawing at himsince they left the castle.
"By the way, how do we know when the Waves are coming?" Ice asked, his voice steady but probing. His eyes stayed on the map in front of him, feigning casual interest as he waited for her response. The store owner shifted uncomfortably, something that didn't go unnoticed by Ice.
Myne looked up from the stall, her expression carefully neutral, though there was a fleeting pause before she spoke. "The Waves?" she echoed, her voice light. "Well, they're unpredictable, you know. They just… happen."
Ice gave her a sideways glance, unconvinced. "Unpredictable? The king seemed pretty sure they're coming soon. There's got to be some way to know when they'll hit."
Myne's smile didn't falter, but Ice noticed a brief hesitation before she responded. "Yes, well, the kingdom has its ways. I'm sure the higher-ups will send word to us when the time comes. There's really no need to worry yourself about it just yet."
Ice narrowed his eyes beneath his goggles. She's deflecting. "You mean to tell me that a disaster big enough to destroy the kingdom can just sneak up on us?"
Myne laughed lightly, waving her hand as though brushing off the concern. "Oh, Ice, you worry too much. The adventurers and knights are always on high alert for these things. They'll know when the Wave is close."
Her evasiveness wasn't lost on him. Ice's instincts screamed that she was holding something back, deliberately keeping him in the dark. There had to be more to it than she was letting on. There's always a system, he thought. Every world has its telltale signs—something that lets them prepare.
"And if the knights don't warn us in time?" Ice pressed, his tone growing colder. "What then? We just wait around and hope for the best?"
Myne glanced at him, her smile still in place, but Ice noticed the subtle shift in her posture, like she was growing tired of the conversation. "Look, I understand why you're anxious, but trust me—when the Wave is near, you'll know. It's impossible to miss. The sky changes, the air grows heavy… you'll feel it."
Ice's gaze didn't leave her. He wasn't buying it. There was something important she wasn't telling him—something she was deliberately keeping secret. She knows more than she's letting on.
But for now, he played along, keeping his suspicions under wraps. "Fine," he said, nodding as if he accepted her answer. "I'll keep an eye out."
Myne seemed relieved that the conversation had ended, flashing him another one of her disarming smiles. "Good! No need to worry about things we can't control, right?"
Ice gave a noncommittal grunt in response. His mind was already racing, formulating a plan to find out what she wasn't telling him. There's more to this story, he thought. And I'm going to find it.
After completing the purchase, Myne turned toward Ice, holding up one of the potions with a satisfied smile. "This will definitely come in handy," she said as if she had just made an excellent deal.
Ice remained silent. He wasn't here to argue over supplies. He was here to learn, and so far, he was learning plenty. She's playing a game, and I'm the piece she thinks she's moving.
But he kept his suspicions hidden, letting her think she was in control for now.
As they continued through the market, Myne glanced back at him again, her tone playful. "You really don't talk much, do you? Most heroes I've met are a lot more… well, expressive."
"I talk when I need to," Ice replied coolly, his voice giving nothing away.
Myne tilted her head, her smile never wavering. "Well, I suppose that makes sense. You're different from the others. I like that."
Ice kept walking, his mind racing beneath the calm exterior. He knew better than to trust her, but he needed more information. He'd let her think she was leading for now, but when the time came, he'd be ready.