Chapter 43: To Reconnect

The journey back through the Leviathan was mercifully uneventful. Whether by design or respect for their achievement, the Loyalists they encountered stood aside, offering only ceremonial salutes as they passed. The weight of their victory gave them safe passage back to the docking bay where Wilt waited.

As the massive doors to the hangar slid open, Ruby felt the tension in her shoulders finally begin to ease. "Almost home," she murmured.

The team boarded Wilt in silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the challenges they'd overcome. As they settled into their positions, Adam approached Penny near the cockpit.

"Would you mind taking the helm?" he asked, his voice carrying an unusual note of respect.

Penny blinked in surprise. "I'd be happy to! But I thought you preferred to fly Wilt yourself."

"I need to discuss something with Ruby and Oscar," he replied, glancing toward the cargo hold. "Vanguard business."

Penny's eyes showed momentary curiosity, but she nodded. "Of course. I'll have us back to the Tower in standard time."

"Thank you." Adam turned away, catching Oscar's eye with a subtle nod. The ancient Warlock rose from his seat, following Adam toward the cargo hold where Ruby was securing their newly acquired treasures.

She looked up as they entered, her silver eyes immediately narrowing with suspicion. "Something wrong?"

Adam sealed the cargo hold door behind them, ensuring privacy. The gentle hum of Wilt's engines filled the silence as the three stood facing each other—centuries of shared history hovering between them.

"We need to talk," Oscar said simply.

Ruby's expression closed off, her hands automatically finding the pendant at her throat—a gesture she'd developed over centuries when feeling defensive. "About the mission? I thought it went well, all things considered."

"Not about the mission," Adam said, his voice carrying that familiar blunt edge. "About why Yang, Blake, and Weiss weren't with us."

Ruby's silver eyes flashed. "We've been over this. The invitation was specific—"

"For you and Penny," Oscar interrupted gently. "The rest of us were additions you requested. You could have easily had one of us stay behind to include Yang or Blake or Weiss."

"It was too dangerous," Ruby insisted, though her voice lacked conviction. "They're not ready for something like—"

"They weren't ready," Adam corrected, "or you weren't?"

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Ruby turned away, her gaze finding the viewport where stars streaked past warp speed.

"Ruby," Oscar's voice softened as he moved closer, "we've known each other for centuries. Fought together, lost together, found each other again across impossible odds. I think I know when something's bothering you."

"And I've served at your side longer than most civilizations have existed," Adam added, his usual harshness tempered by understanding. "This isn't about their combat readiness. This is about you."

Ruby remained silent for a long moment, her fingers tracing the silver tree pendant—the gift Oscar had given her in another lifetime. When she finally spoke, her voice carried a vulnerability they rarely heard.

"They look at me like I'm her," she whispered. "Like I'm still the Ruby they knew on Remnant." She turned back to face them, centuries of pain evident in her silver eyes. "But that Ruby has been gone for so long, sometimes I can barely remember who she was."

Oscar took her hand gently in his. "Ruby..."

"Every time Yang calls me 'sis,' it feels like I'm deceiving her," Ruby continued, the words now pouring out after being held back for so long. "They remember everything so clearly—every mission, every joke, every moment we shared. But for me..." She swallowed hard. "For me, they're echoes of memories so ancient they feel like stories someone else told me."

"You're afraid of disappointing them," Adam observed quietly. "Of them realizing you're not who they think you are."

Ruby nodded, a single tear tracing down her cheek. "The more time I spend with them, the more they'll see the truth—that their Ruby died centuries ago. All that's left is... this." She gestured at herself, the weight of ages evident in her posture despite her unchanged appearance.

"That's not true," Oscar said firmly. "You're still Ruby Rose. Yes, centuries of life have changed you—how could they not? But your core, what makes you who you are, that's never changed." His grip on her hand tightened. "I've known you across eras, watched you face impossible odds, seen you fall and rise again. Through it all, you've remained true to yourself."

"Have I?" Ruby challenged, pulling away. "The Ruby they knew was bright and optimistic, believed the best in everyone. But I've led armies, Oscar. I've ordered Guardians to their final deaths knowing they wouldn't come back. I've made compromises they couldn't begin to understand." Her voice broke slightly. "How could they possibly recognize what I've become?"

Adam moved closer, his pale blue eyes reflecting centuries of his own evolution. "Do you think they haven't changed as well? Death and resurrection, awakening in a world so different from what they knew—you think that hasn't transformed them?"

"It's not the same," Ruby whispered.

"No," Adam agreed. "But neither are they the same people you remember. Yang's anger burns differently now. Blake's caution has new edges. Weiss's pride has found different foundations." He paused, seeming to choose his next words carefully. "They're becoming new versions of themselves, just as you did. The difference is you had centuries for your transformation. They're doing it in months."

Oscar nodded. "They're searching for connection—to their past, to each other, to this new world they've been thrust into. And yes, to you. Not to who you were, but to who you are now."

"And by keeping them at arm's length," Adam added with characteristic bluntness, "you deny them the chance to discover that connection for themselves."

Ruby sank onto a cargo crate, the weight of truth in their words pressing down on her. "I don't know how to bridge that gap," she admitted quietly. "When Yang talks about Beacon, about our old team, it feels like she's describing someone else's life. I remember fragments, impressions, but the emotional connection..." She trailed off, struggling to find the words.

"Is distant," Oscar finished for her. "Like looking at photographs of strangers who happen to share your face."

"Yes." Relief flickered across Ruby's features at being understood. "And every time I fail to react the way they expect, I see the hurt in their eyes. The confusion. The growing realization that I'm not who they thought I was."

Adam leaned against the bulkhead, his arms crossed. "So you avoid them. Keep them busy with training. Send them on missions far from where you're operating."

"It seemed kinder," Ruby said defensively. "Let them have their memories of who I was, rather than forcing them to reconcile with who I've become."

"That's not your decision to make," Oscar said gently but firmly. "They deserve the chance to know you as you are now, not as a preserved memory."

"And what if they can't accept it?" Ruby challenged, the fear finally spoken aloud. "What if they look at what I've become and decide I'm not their Ruby anymore?"

"Then that's their choice," Adam replied. "But denying them the opportunity to make it? That's yours. And it's not the Ruby Rose I've known for centuries."

The cargo hold fell silent save for the steady hum of Wilt's engines. Ruby's gaze dropped to her hands—hands that had wielded Light for longer than most civilizations had existed, hands that had both saved and ended countless lives across an impossible span of time.

"I'm afraid," she admitted, so quietly they almost missed it. "I'm afraid of losing them again."

Oscar moved to sit beside her, his presence a familiar comfort. "You can't lose what you're not willing to hold," he said softly. "And they're reaching for you, Ruby. All three of them, in their own ways."

Adam remained standing, but his posture had lost some of its rigid edge. "They're stronger than you give them credit for. Strong enough to face the truth of who you've become."

Ruby looked up, meeting first Oscar's gaze, then Adam's. "When did you two become so wise about relationships?" A ghost of her old smile touched her lips.

"When you taught us to be," Oscar replied simply.

Ruby took a deep breath, centuries of habit helping her gather herself once more. "So what do I do? Where do I even start?"

"The truth," Adam said without hesitation. "Always the truth. Even when it hurts."

"And patience," Oscar added. "Give them time to know you as you are now. Give yourself permission to build something new with them, rather than trying to resurrect what was."

Ruby nodded slowly, the pendant at her throat catching the light as she moved. "When we get back..." she began.

"When we get back," Oscar confirmed, "you talk to them. Not as their leader from Remnant, but as who you are now."

"And if they can't accept it?" The vulnerability in her question revealed how much this truly mattered to her.

"Then they weren't worth centuries of your concern," Adam said bluntly, but there was compassion hidden in his gruffness. "But they will. They're your team, Ruby. In this life as in the last."

The ship hummed around them as Ruby considered their words. Outside the viewport, stars streaked by—constant reminders of how small even their centuries-long lives were in the grand scope of existence. Yet in this moment, the connection between these three ancient warriors felt like the most important thing in the universe.

"Thank you," Ruby said finally, genuine gratitude in her silver eyes. "Both of you. For knowing me well enough to call me out on my fears."

Oscar smiled, patting her hand. "That's what family does."

Adam merely nodded, but the gesture carried centuries of mutual respect.

Ruby stood, squaring her shoulders as determination replaced uncertainty. "When we get back," she promised, "I'll talk to them. Really talk to them. Whatever comes after... we'll face it together."

As Wilt carried them home through the stars, Ruby felt something she hadn't experienced in decades—the weight of fear lifting, replaced by quiet hope. The conversation ahead would be difficult, would require vulnerability she'd long avoided. But for the first time since seeing her team reborn into this new life, she allowed herself to imagine building something new with them—something honest, something real.

Something worth the centuries of waiting.

Pyrrha watched Jaune from across the ship's lounge area as they departed from the Leviathan. He sat slumped against the bulkhead, exhaustion evident in every line of his body as he methodically cleaned his Mountaintop grenade launcher—fingers moving automatically through the maintenance routine while his mind seemed elsewhere. His Crest of Alpha Lupi still bore scorch marks from their encounter with the Cabal Emperor's forces, and his blonde hair was matted with sweat and grime.

Taking a deep breath, she moved toward him, her own Night Watch scout rifle resting across her lap.

"How are you feeling about being back in the field?" Pyrrha asked softly, settling beside him. "Especially for something as intense as the Leviathan raid."

Jaune looked up, a weary but satisfied smile crossing his features. "It's strange. During the fight, all these old instincts just kicked in—like muscle memory I didn't know I still had." He set his cleaned weapon aside with careful precision. "Part of me felt like I was back during those early crusades against the Fallen after Twilight Gap. The other part..."

The ship suddenly lurched as it cleared the gravitational field surrounding the massive Leviathan. The movement sent Jaune's complexion shifting to a concerning shade of green, despite the battle being over.

"The other part of me remembers I've never been great with airships," he finished weakly, steadying himself against the wall. His knuckles whitened around the support handle as the vessel stabilized.

Pyrrha couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. "Some things never change, do they? Even after facing down the Leviathan's challenges." She reached into a pouch at her belt and offered him a small tablet. "Here. Amanda gave me these before we left—said they help with the motion sickness."

"Thanks," Jaune mumbled, accepting the medicine gratefully. After swallowing it, he took a deep breath and straightened up. "I can face down Emperor Calus's elite guards without blinking, but put me on an airship for the ride home..." He shook his head with a self-deprecating smile.

"That's what teammates are for," Pyrrha replied warmly.

The dust storm howled across Mars' frozen plains as Yang battled her way through another wave of Thrall. Her shotgun roared, each blast illuminated by the eerie orange glow pulsing from beneath the ice. Nearby, Blake's shadow-step carried her between Acolytes, Nightfang leaving trails of void energy as it carved through chitin armor.

"How's that upload coming?" Yang called out, her voice barely audible over the storm.

Weiss stood beside Ana Bray at a partially excavated Clovis Bray terminal, her hands steady as she channeled Arc energy to boost the failing power systems. "Almost there! The Warmind's systems are heavily fragmented!"

"Twenty percent and climbing," Ana confirmed, her Ghost projecting streams of Golden Age code as they worked. "Whatever's happening beneath the ice, Rasputin is throwing everything he has against it."

Another tremor shook the ground, more violent than the last. All around them, ancient Clovis Bray structures continued to emerge from the melting glacier—towers, bunkers, and mysterious obelisks thrust upward as if the planet itself was disgorging long-buried secrets.

"That can't be good," Blake called out, her enhanced senses picking up movement beyond the storm. "Multiple heavy signatures approaching from the northeast!"

As if on cue, the ice erupted a hundred meters away. Massive Hive forms clawed their way to the surface—Knights and Wizards in unfamiliar armor, their chitin plates inscribed with runes that pulsed with sickly green light.

"Bray, we're running out of time!" Yang shouted as she reloaded.

Ana's fingers flew across the terminal, her expression intensifying. "Almost... got it! Connection established!" Her Ghost expanded its shell as data began flowing freely. "Rasputin, can you hear us?"

The terminal's screen flickered, streams of code resolving into a geometric pattern that pulsed with each syllable as a deep, synthesized voice filled the comm channel: "я слышу тебя, Анастасия Брей."

"I need English, big guy," Ana replied, urgency in her voice.

The pattern shifted. "CONNECTION ESTABLISHED. INTERLOPERS DETECTED BENEATH HELLAS BASIN. DESIGNATION: HIVE GOD NOKRIS. DESIGNATION: HIVE GOD XOL, WILL OF THOUSANDS."

"A Hive god?" Weiss's eyes widened. "As in Oryx-level threat?"

"Worse," Ana said grimly. "Xol is a Worm God—one of the five original beings that gave the Hive their power. If it's waking up..."

Another violent tremor shook the facility, ice cracking beneath their feet. The approaching Hive forces charged across the fractured landscape, their otherworldly howls carried on the freezing wind.

"We need backup," Blake said firmly, already calculating their odds. "Now."

Ana nodded, her Ghost immediately broadcasting on emergency Vanguard frequencies. "This is Ana Bray at Hellas Basin. We have confirmation of Xol, Will of Thousands, awakening beneath the Martian ice cap. Requesting immediate heavy Guardian support."

"Weiss can take Stormborn back to orbit," Yang suggested, "bring reinforcements from the Tower."

"No time," Weiss replied, her Scout Rifle dropping two more Acolytes. "Whatever's happening, it's accelerating. We either stop it now or Mars falls."

Ana's hand found her ornate hand cannon, its Golden Age tech humming with power. "Then we hold the line until help arrives. Rasputin is activating his defense networks, but they've been dormant for centuries. It'll take time."

"Time we don't have," Blake observed, her ears flat against her head as another wave of Hive forces appeared through the storm.

Yang chambered a fresh round, Solar Light flickering around her fists. "Then we make time."

The four Guardians formed a defensive perimeter around the Clovis Bray facility, their Light blazing against the encroaching darkness. Above them, orbital sensors detected multiple objects breaking atmosphere—Warsats, ancient and powerful, awakening at Rasputin's command.

The hum of Wilt's engines provided a soothing backdrop as the ship cut through space, leaving the massive Leviathan behind. Penny's fingers danced across the control panel with practiced precision, her synthetic eyes monitoring multiple systems simultaneously.

"Estimated arrival at the Tower in approximately three hours," she announced cheerfully, spinning her chair to face the others. "Everyone should get some rest. That raid was—"

A harsh static burst interrupted her, the ship's communication array suddenly lighting up with emergency indicators. Penny's expression shifted instantly from relaxed to alert as she turned back to the controls.

"Incoming emergency transmission," she reported, fingers flying across the interface. "Vanguard priority channel."

Ruby emerged from the cargo hold, followed closely by Adam and Oscar, all three wearing expressions that suggested their private conversation had been intense but necessary.

"Put it through," Ruby commanded, her centuries of leadership evident in the calm authority of her voice.

The ship's speakers crackled with interference before Ana Bray's voice cut through, strained and urgent: "—Hellas Basin. We have confirmation of Xol, Will of Thousands, awakening beneath the Martian ice cap. Requesting immediate heavy Guardian support."

The transmission degraded into static, punctuated by what sounded disturbingly like weapons fire and inhuman screaming.

"That's Mars," Jaune said, pushing himself up despite his lingering motion sickness. "And it sounds bad."

"Xol..." Oscar's ancient eyes narrowed. "A Worm God. One of the progenitors of the Hive."

Pyrrha moved to the navigation console. "How far are we from Mars?"

"With a course correction now, approximately forty minutes," Penny calculated, already plotting the new trajectory. "But we'd be diverting significantly from our return to the Tower."

Ruby's jaw tightened. "Penny, try to establish direct contact with Yang's Ghost."

"Attempting connection," Penny replied, adjusting the communications array. The bridge filled with the harsh buzz of static.

"No response," she reported after a moment. "Trying Blake's Ghost instead."

More static followed, punctuated by bursts of indecipherable noise that might have been voices or weapons fire.

Ruby's fingers drummed against the console. "Try Weiss."

Penny nodded, recalibrating the signal. For several tense seconds, nothing but interference filled the speakers. Then—

"—copy? This is Weiss Schnee, do you copy?" The voice was strained but unmistakable, cutting through the static.

"Weiss!" Ruby leaned toward the comm panel. "This is Ruby, we've received Ana Bray's distress call. We're diverting from our return to the Tower and heading to Mars now. What's your situation?"

"Ruby?" Surprise colored Weiss's voice before professionalism took over. "We're at the Hellas Basin facility with Ana Bray. There's—" A thunderous crash interrupted her, followed by shouting. When Weiss's voice returned, it was more urgent. "We're all already on Mars. The situation is deteriorating rapidly. Rasputin has detected—"

"Wait, all of you? Why are you all on Mars? That wasn't part of your—"

"No time to explain!" Weiss cut her off, her voice suddenly distant as if she'd turned away from her Ghost. "Blake, on your left! Yang, we need cover fire!" Another explosion rocked the transmission. "The ice is breaking apart, and something massive is emerging. We need—"

The communication abruptly cut off, replaced by dead silence.

"Weiss? Weiss!" Ruby called, but the channel remained dead.

"Signal lost," Penny confirmed grimly. "Detecting massive electromagnetic interference from the Hellas region."

Ruby stabbed at the comms button repeatedly. "Weiss! Yang! Blake! Anyone copy? Anyone?" Only static answered her efforts.

She slammed her palm against the console, a flash of frustration breaking through her usually composed demeanor. "Well, isn't this just perfect? First day back from a raid, and my team decides to have a playdate with a Worm God. Because normal patrols are too boring, apparently."

A heavy silence followed her outburst. Jaune and Pyrrha exchanged concerned glances as Ruby straightened, quickly regaining her composure.

"Change of plans," Ruby said, her voice hardening. "Penny, maximum velocity to Mars. The rest of you, prepare for immediate combat drop."

The ship banked sharply as Penny executed the course correction, the engines roaring with renewed power.

Oscar moved to Ruby's side, his ancient eyes troubled. "Ruby, if Xol is truly awakening—"

"Then we need every Guardian we can get," she finished for him, checking her own weapons. "We can't wait for the Vanguard to assemble a response team."

Jaune, already checking his Mountaintop launcher, looked up with determination. "Yang, Blake, and Weiss are there. We're not leaving them to face this alone."

"No," Ruby agreed, a new resolve hardening her features. "We're not."

Pyrrha, ever practical, began distributing spare ammo synths from the ship's storage. "From what we just heard, they're already engaged with hostile forces. We should be prepared for immediate action upon arrival."

"Thirty-five minutes to Mars orbit," Penny announced, her synthetic fingers flying across the controls. "I'm detecting increasing seismic activity across the entire Hellas Basin region. Whatever's happening down there... it's accelerating."

Adam, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "A Worm God. A planet at stake. And the team you've been avoiding for weeks caught in the middle." His eyes met Ruby's. "Quite the forced reconnection you're about to have."

Ruby tried the comms again, muttering under her breath as she adjusted frequencies. When nothing but static answered, she glanced up at Adam with a sardonic smile.

"Oh yes, because after weeks of careful avoidance, fighting an ancient Hive deity is exactly how I pictured our heart-to-heart going," she replied dryly. "Maybe we can all bond over not being eaten, assuming we get there before this Worm God turns Mars into its personal buffet."

She turned away from the console, switching her focus to preparing her weapons. "Penny, push those engines any harder and they might become sentient."

As Wilt hurtled through space toward the red planet, the mood aboard shifted from exhaustion to grim determination. They might have just completed one dangerous mission, but an even greater challenge awaited them—one where failure wasn't an option.

And for Ruby, centuries of carefully maintained distance were about to collapse in the face of immediate crisis. The conversation in the cargo hold echoed in her mind—about keeping her former teammates at arm's length, about centuries of distance and fear.

Now, those same teammates were facing one of the deadliest entities in the solar system.

The cosmos blurred outside as Wilt pushed its engines to their limits, carrying six Guardians toward a confrontation with ancient darkness—and perhaps, for Ruby, toward truths she could no longer avoid.

The Martian dust storm howled across Hellas Basin, ice and sand particles scraping against the ancient Clovis Bray facility like countless tiny claws. Inside, the air tasted of metal and ozone as Ana Bray's fingers flew across the console, fragments of code streaming across her screens as Rasputin's systems struggled to contain whatever was awakening beneath the ice.

Weiss lowered her hand from her Ghost, Nix floating anxiously at her shoulder as she rejoined Ana at the terminal.

"Who was that?" Ana asked without looking up, her brow furrowed in concentration as Rasputin's Russian codes flashed red across the monitor. "You know we need all communications going through secure Warmind channels right now."

"Reinforcements," Weiss replied, raising her voice over the rumble of another seismic tremor. "Ruby Rose and her fireteam are diverting to Mars. They'll be here in approximately thirty minutes."

Ana's hands froze over the keyboard, her head turning slowly to stare at Weiss. "Ruby Rose? As in the Ruby Rose?" Disbelief colored her voice. "The Hunter who served on one of the first Vanguard councils? That Ruby Rose?"

Weiss nodded, taken aback by Ana's reaction. "Yes. We're... old teammates."

Ana's eyes widened, her gaze sweeping over Weiss with new interest. "Old teammates? You've been a Guardian for what, a few months? And you're telling me you're teammates with a Guardian who's been around since before the City Age?"

Before Weiss could respond, a massive tremor shook the entire facility, sending equipment crashing to the floor. The nearby wall cracked, dust and ancient plaster raining down as the structure groaned under the strain.

"Explain later," Ana said, returning to her terminal. "But if Ruby Rose is coming..." She shook her head in amazement. "Either you're delusional or way more important than I thought."

From outside the room came the unmistakable sound of Yang's shotgun, followed by the distinctive void whisper of Blake's Nightfang cutting through something that screeched in response.

"Weiss!" Yang's voice called out. "We've got more company! Lots more!"

Weiss grabbed her Randy's Throwing Knife from where it leaned against the console. "How long until Rasputin's defenses are online?"

"Minutes, maybe," Ana replied, her Ghost already expanding its shell to interface directly with another terminal. "Keep them off us until then."

Another tremor, stronger than the last, rattled the facility to its foundations. Through the cracked windows, Weiss could see the ice plains beyond beginning to fracture, orange light pulsing from within the widening fissures like an infected wound.

"Ruby and her team will be here in thirty minutes," Weiss said, more to herself than Ana. "We just need to hold out until then."

Ana's laugh was short and without humor. "Thirty minutes with what's coming? That might as well be thirty years." She glanced up at Weiss, her expression softening slightly at what must have been concern on Weiss's face. "But hey, if Ruby Rose is really coming... maybe we've got a chance after all."

Weiss chambered a round in her scout rifle and headed toward the doorway where her teammates were engaged with the enemy. "She'll be here," she said with certainty. "And trust me, she's faced worse than this."

As she moved to join the fight, Weiss couldn't help but wonder about the woman Ana seemed to know—this legendary Ruby Rose who had served on the Vanguard council centuries ago. How different was she from the impulsive, optimistic team leader Weiss remembered from Remnant? What kind of person did immortality forge over the span of centuries?

Another tremor shook the facility, bringing her back to the present moment. First, they had to survive the next thirty minutes. Then, perhaps, she'd finally learn who Ruby Rose had become in all the years since their team had last been whole.