The elevator hummed steadily as it descended, the faint vibration reverberating through the confined space. The sterile glow of the overhead lights reflected off the metal walls, casting soft shadows on the faces of those within. On one side, Hana stood with the M.M.R. team, her posture formal as she reviewed the data on her pad. Occasionally, her eyes flicked toward Marian, a subtle tension in her stance betraying her otherwise composed demeanor.

Opposite them stood the Counters. Rapi leaned against the railing beside Neon and Anis, while Marian stood slightly apart, her gaze fixed on the floor. Neon and Anis whispered to each other, their usual bickering reduced to hushed tones as the weight of the situation hung over the group.

In the center of the elevator, John stood by the railing, staring out at the glowing expanse of the Ark below. His expression was distant, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

From the far side, the Absolute squad observed silently. Emma's warm expression was the first to break the stillness. Her hands clasped together as she stepped closer, her soft, soothing voice cutting through the hum of the elevator. "Rapi," she began, her tone carrying the affection of a kind older sister. "It's been so long."

Rapi turned toward her, her stoic expression softening as she met Emma's gaze. "Emma," she said quietly. "It's good to see you again."

Emma smiled warmly, her eyes glistening with emotion. Without hesitation, she stepped forward and pulled Rapi into a firm hug. "I missed you," she said softly, her voice muffled against Rapi's shoulder. "You could have at least said goodbye before leaving."

Rapi froze briefly, then returned the embrace with a faint sigh. "I know," she admitted. "I should have. I'm sorry, Emma."

Pulling back slightly, Emma rested her hands on Rapi's shoulders, studying her face with a gentle smile. "It's okay," she said, her voice steady. "You're here now, and that's what matters. But..." Her smile turned wistful. "You seem different. Lighter. Like you've finally found something you were looking for."

Rapi tilted her head, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "Different? I don't know if I'd say that."

Emma chuckled softly. "Well, maybe you don't see it, but I do. And if you haven't found it yet, I think you're close."

Rapi hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Maybe," she murmured. "I'm... working on it."

Emma's smile brightened. "That's good enough for me."

Beside Emma, Vesti stepped forward, her demeanor faltering as she studied Rapi. "How are you doing?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "Are you okay?"

Rapi nodded, her expression steady but her tone soft. "I'm fine, Vesti. It's been... a lot, but I'm managing."

Vesti's eyes shimmered, and she bit her lip as she tried to hold back tears. "Good," she said, her voice wavering. "I was so worried about you. We all were." She sniffled audibly, raising a hand to her face. "Damn it, I told myself I wouldn't cry."

Rapi gave her a faint smile, her voice holding a rare warmth. "You haven't changed a bit."

Vesti let out a shaky laugh, wiping her eyes. "Neither have you. You still look as cool as ever."

Rapi's gaze flicked between Emma and Vesti, her expression softening further. "It's good to see you both again."

The brief moment of reunion was broken by a sharp voice from the corner. "Can you keep it down?" Eunhwa snapped, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she leaned against the elevator wall. "Some of us are trying to focus."

Emma shot her a glance, her smile dimming slightly, but said nothing. Vesti hesitated, then stepped back toward Emma, her cheerful energy subdued.

Rapi turned to Eunhwa, her voice calm but firm. "It's good to see you too, Eunhwa."

Eunhwa's sharp eyes narrowed. "Is it?" she asked coldly. "Because it doesn't seem like you cared much about us when you left without a word."

Rapi's expression didn't falter. "You're right," she said simply. "I should have said something. I made a mistake."

Eunhwa scoffed, her gaze flicking to the floor. "Mistake's an understatement."

The tension hung in the air, thick and heavy, before Emma stepped forward slightly, her tone soft but firm. "Eunhwa," she said gently. "She's here now. Isn't that enough?"

Eunhwa didn't respond, her silence speaking volumes as she stared at the elevator floor.

Rapi glanced at Emma, offering a small, grateful nod. Despite the warmth of her reunion with Emma and Vesti, the lingering tension with Eunhwa left an unresolved weight between them.

The elevator slowed, the hum of machinery softening to a low whine as it approached its destination. The glow of the Ark's outpost lights spilled through the cracks in the doors, illuminating the group inside. As the elevator came to a stop with a faint hiss, the heavy doors slid open, revealing the bustling interior of the outpost—a stark contrast to the cold, sterile confines of the elevator.

John straightened, the contemplative look on his face easing slightly as the sight of the outpost's activity grounded him. He turned toward the others, gesturing for the Counters to move. "Alright," he said, his tone lighter than it had been during the ride down. "Let's get moving."

Rapi gave him a small nod, gently guiding Marian forward while Neon and Anis followed, their banter already resuming in low tones. Marian's steps were hesitant, but she moved with them, staying close to Rapi's side.

As John prepared to step out behind them, Hana's voice cut through the low hum of the outpost's activity.

"Commander Smith," she called, her tone formal but tinged with hesitation. "Andersen has requested to see you immediately."

John paused mid-step, one hand still resting on the railing. He turned back toward Hana, his brow furrowing slightly. "Immediately?" he echoed, his tone carrying a hint of incredulity. "We just got here."

Hana shifted her weight slightly, her posture still straight but betraying a trace of unease. "He was clear in his instructions," she said. "He wants a debrief and to discuss next steps regarding Marian."

John let out a small sigh, his hand running through his hair as he glanced toward the Counters, who were already stepping into the outpost. For a moment, he seemed torn, his gaze flicking between Hana and his team.

Neon, catching the exchange, glanced back and raised an eyebrow. "What's up, Boss? You coming?"

John hesitated for a beat before shaking his head lightly. "Looks like I've got an appointment," he said, his voice carrying a faint edge of frustration. "Andersen wants to see me right away."

Anis groaned dramatically, throwing her hands up. "Of course he does. Can't even let you catch your breath, huh?"

"Seems like it," John replied with a wry smirk. He glanced at Rapi, who had paused with Marian near the entrance, her gaze steady as she waited for him to decide.

John sighed, rolling his shoulders before offering them a small smile. "You all head home. Get settled. I'll catch up with you later."

Rapi nodded, her tone calm but carrying a note of understanding. "We'll wait for you."

John chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I won't be too long. I'll Grab some drinks and snacks—we'll celebrate when I'm done."

Anis perked up at that, her earlier dramatics forgotten. "Now that I can get behind. Don't keep us waiting too long, Boss."

Neon grinned, nudging Anis. "You just want an excuse to pig out."

"Hey, a celebration needs proper supplies," Anis shot back with a grin.

John waved them off, his smirk lingering as he watched them move further into the outpost. Marian glanced back briefly, her gaze meeting his for a fleeting moment before she turned and followed Rapi.

Once the Counters were out of sight, John exhaled, turning back to Hana. "Alright, Commander Commander," he said, his tone light but resigned. "Lead the way."

The door to Deputy Chief and Commander Andersen's office slid open with a hiss. Shelves lined the walls, neatly filled with files and datapads, and a single large desk dominated the center, illuminated by a cold, white light. Andersen stood behind it, his sharp, calculating eyes already fixed on John as he entered.

Hana followed close behind, her posture stiff, her expression carefully neutral. She came to a stop just inside the doorway, saluting crisply. "Deputy Chief and Commander Andersen," she announced formally. "I've brought Commander Smith as requested."

Andersen nodded once, his expression unreadable. "Thank you, Commander Shireikan. That will be all. And... good work today."

Hana hesitated briefly before nodding. "Yes, sir." Her eyes flicked to John, lingering for a moment as if she wanted to say something, but she turned and exited without another word.

The door slid shut behind her, and the silence that followed was heavy. John, hands tucked into his pockets, took a few steps forward and surveyed the room. He didn't sit, instead leaning casually against the edge of the desk, his eyes meeting Andersen's.

"You're not wasting any time, are you?" John remarked, his tone light but carrying an undercurrent of wariness. "We barely got off the elevator."

Andersen's lips pressed into a thin line, his tone measured as he replied. "Time isn't a luxury we can afford right now, John. Not with everything that's happened."

John nodded slowly, straightening and crossing his arms. "Let me guess. The heretics, the Pilgrims, and—" his voice lowered slightly, almost conspiratorial—"Marian."

Andersen's expression didn't change, but his tone sharpened. "You've made waves. Fighting two heretics and somehow surviving is one thing. Bringing back a corrupted Nikke and restoring her to humanity is another."

John gave a faint shrug. "We did what needed to be done. I assume you're not here to congratulate me."

Andersen leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping. "Do you understand what kind of attention this brings? This isn't something we can sweep under the rug. People will ask questions. They'll dig. The central government won't let this stay quiet for long."

John's expression darkened, and he let out a soft sigh. "And when they dig, they'll find things that shouldn't be found. Isn't that right?"

Andersen didn't respond immediately. He studied John for a moment, his gaze steady. "You've worked hard to keep your origins out of the spotlight," he said finally. "If this gets out, that effort will be for nothing."

"I know," John said quietly. He stepped back, pacing slowly across the room. "The government loves a good story, though, don't they? The heroic commander, the loyal squad, the miraculous recovery of a corrupted heretic. They'll spin it however they want."

"And they'll spin you," Andersen added pointedly. "Into every headline, every broadcast. And sooner or later, someone will ask the wrong questions. Questions about you. About your past. About... them."

John stopped pacing, his shoulders stiffening. He didn't turn, his voice low. "The Jujutsu Society won't tolerate attention. They've already made it clear what happens to people who stray too far from their shadows."

Andersen sighed, sitting back in his chair. "Exactly. The central government doesn't understand what they'd be dealing with. To them, you're a tool—a convenient symbol. They don't care about the risks they'd be inviting."

John turned, his expression guarded. "So what's your plan? Keep me hidden forever? Pretend I don't exist?"

"For now, I've kept the story contained," Andersen said, his tone deliberate. "The official reports are classified. The leadership hasn't pushed too hard yet, but that won't last. Eventually, someone will leak it, or the central government will decide it's too good a story to let slip through their fingers."

John let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "They'll use me until it blows up in their faces."

Andersen's gaze didn't waver. "We need to control the narrative before they do."

John crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall. "I already have an idea on how. Give the glory to someone else. Commander Shireikan's photogenic, and already has Absolute backing her. She'd be perfect for the propaganda machine."

Andersen's brow furrowed. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?" John pressed, his tone sharper now. "You and I both know how tightly the ark controls the media. I've lost count of the number of supposed gas pipe explosions whenever exorcizing a curse drags too much attention."

Andersen's expression darkened slightly. "Giving her credit might deflect attention temporarily, but it won't erase the questions surrounding your involvement. People in Central aren't stupid. They'll keep digging."

John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't. Great."

"For now, the priority is keeping you and the Counters out of the spotlight entirely," Andersen said firmly. "If they can't find you, they can't use you."

John gave a faint, humorless laugh. "You know, for someone who doesn't want me noticed, you sure keep giving me the biggest problems to fix."

Andersen allowed a rare flicker of amusement to cross his face. "And yet, you always manage to fix them."

John exhaled slowly, his gaze steady as he met Andersen's eyes. " I'll lay low. But if this thing blows up, don't expect me to play along. I'm not some pawn for their games."

"Understood," Andersen replied evenly. "We'll handle it before it comes to that."

John straightened, his casual demeanor slipping back into place. "Good. Because I'm already overdue for a drink with my team."

Andersen nodded, his voice softening slightly. "Go. But stay sharp, John. We're not out of the woods yet."

John hadn't fully turned to leave the office when Andersen's voice stopped him mid-step.

"There's one more thing, John," Andersen said, his tone heavier than before.

John turned back, his casual demeanor replaced by quiet attentiveness. "Let me guess," he said dryly. "It's about Marian."

Andersen nodded, standing and stepping around his desk to lean against its edge, his hands resting on its surface. "You're right. While the story of her recovery is miraculous—and useful for morale—it's also dangerous."

John crossed his arms, his brow furrowing. "Dangerous how?"

"Marian's condition isn't just a medical anomaly," Andersen replied, his voice measured. "She's a fusion of Rapture and Ark technology. Something no one's seen before, and something a lot of people want to get their hands on."

John's expression darkened. "How bad is it?"

Andersen's gaze hardened, his tone taking on a sharper edge. "It's bad. The people interested in her aren't subordinates I can order around or bureaucrats I can ignore. They're people at my rank—or higher."

John let out a slow breath, his arms dropping to his sides as he paced the room. "So, what? Everyone wants to dismantle her and see what makes her tick?"

"That's the mild version," Andersen said grimly. "There's no shortage of speculation about what her existence could mean. Is she a weapon? A tool to reverse-engineer Rapture technology? Or worse, proof that corruption can be weaponized and controlled?"

John stopped, turning to face Andersen fully. "And you? What's your stance on all this?"

Andersen's jaw tightened. "My options are limited. I can't directly block anyone at my level from pursuing her, and I don't have the authority to protect her outright. All I can do is advise you to stay vigilant. Keep her close, and don't let her out of your sight unless absolutely necessary."

John ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. "Not exactly a plan, is it?"

"It's the best I can offer," Andersen said, his voice firm. "For now."

The silence between them hung heavy for a moment before Andersen continued. "There's one request I need to mention. Ingrid, the CEO of Elysion, has asked to examine Marian."

John's frown deepened. "Marian is an Elysion Nikke," he said slowly. "So, I guess it makes sense she'd be interested. Can you vouch for her?"

"I can," Andersen replied with a nod. "Ingrid's intentions are usually transparent. She's loyal to Ark and humanity as a whole. But not everyone around her shares that perspective. If you agree, tread carefully."

John leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "You're awfully involved in this for someone with limited options," he said, his tone probing. "Most people in your position would be scrambling to take her apart for the 'betterment of humanity.' But you're helping. Why?"

Andersen's gaze drifted past John, his eyes distant as though he were looking far beyond the walls of his office. He remained silent for a moment, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air.

Finally, he spoke, his voice quieter but laced with a solemn gravity. "Because I owe them."

John tilted his head slightly. "Them?"

"The Nikkes," Andersen said, his gaze still distant. "All the ones who lost their lives defending humanity. They were built to fight for us, to die for us. And too many of them never got a choice in the matter."

His hands tightened on the edge of the desk as his voice grew steadier. "Marian's recovery might not mean much in the grand scheme of things, but it's a small consolation. A way to say that not every Nikke has to be reduced to a tool or a weapon."

John studied him, his usual smirk absent as he nodded slowly. "That's fair," he said quietly. "And... thanks. For trying."

Andersen's eyes refocused on John, his expression firm but not unkind. "Don't thank me yet. Keeping her safe is going to be a battle all its own. And if you're not careful, it won't just be her they come after."

John straightened, his usual casual demeanor slipping back into place as he gestured toward the door. "Guess I've got my work cut out for me, then."

"Good," Andersen said, his voice carrying a note of finality. "Stay sharp, John. And don't let your guard down—not for a second. Now, if you don't mind, I'm late for a meeting."

John left Andersen's office and walked briskly through the sterile corridors of the Central Government office building, the faint echo of his boots the only sound accompanying him. As he approached a turn, his comm device buzzed. He pulled it out and glanced at the display. Shifty's name flashed across the screen. He pressed to answer and brought the device to his ear.

"Shifty," he greeted casually. "What's up?"

"Commander," Shifty replied, her tone efficient but tinged with a hint of curiosity. "I've just been informed that Deputy Chief Burningum has requested your presence. Apparently, it's a matter he wants to discuss personally."

John's brow furrowed slightly, though his voice remained light. "That fat prick Burningum, huh? Fancy that. Any idea what it's about?"

"No specifics," Shifty replied. "The message was brief and formal. Just a request for you to meet with him as soon as possible."

John let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Well, if it's a request and not an order, then I've got time."

"Commander..." Shifty's voice carried a note of warning, though it stopped short of being scolding. "You should still—"

"I'll get to it, don't worry," John interrupted, his tone breezy. "But not right away. There's something else I need to handle first."

"What could possibly take precedence over a Deputy Chief's request?" Shifty asked, a faint edge of exasperation creeping into her voice.

"Shopping," John said simply, his grin audible in his tone.

"Shopping," Shifty repeated flatly, clearly unimpressed.

"Shopping," John confirmed, turning down another corridor with a faint whistle. "I promised the team drinks and snacks to celebrate. Can't let them down, can I?"

Shifty sighed audibly. "Commander, you do realize this could be important."

John nodded to himself as he reached the corridor leading to the exit. "And it probably is," he admitted. "But since it's not urgent, I figure I can afford to be a little late. Besides, we've all had a long day. I could use the break."

Shifty was silent for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh. "Fine. Just... don't take too long."

"Noted," John replied cheerfully. "I'll make it quick."

He ended the call and slipped the comm device back into his pocket. Stepping through the exit, he was greeted by the faint hum of activity outside the Ark's administrative buildings. He adjusted his jacket slightly, a small grin tugging at his lips as he headed toward the bustling market area.

Deputy Chief Burningum stood in his dimly lit office, his fingers twitching slightly as he stacked the last of the neatly organized files on his desk. The glow of the Ark's lights outside illuminated the room, casting long shadows on the walls. His expression was taut with irritation, his lips pressed into a thin line. He adjusted his collar with a quick, jittery movement before glancing at the clock on the wall.

"Late," he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with both nervousness and annoyance.

The door slid open abruptly, and John sauntered in, the quiet hum of the corridor spilling briefly into the room before the door hissed shut again. He was laden with bags, the faint clink of bottles audible as he set them down on a chair. One of the bags contained apple pies, and John was already eating from one of the open boxes, a fork in hand.

"Evening, Deputy Chief," John greeted casually, his tone light as he took another bite. "Hope I'm not interrupting."

Burningum blinked, his irritation flaring briefly before he schooled his expression into something resembling calm. "Commander S-Smith," he stuttered, his voice tight. "You were supposed to be here h-hours ago."

John gave him a wide grin, setting the half-eaten pie down on the desk without asking. "I got caught up," he said breezily, gesturing to the bags. "Team needed supplies. Drinks, snacks, and, of course, pie. You want one?"

Burningum's eye twitched slightly, but he didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he adjusted his glasses again and took a measured breath. "W-we have serious matters to discuss, Commander. This isn't a s-social visit."

John shrugged, leaning casually against the edge of the desk. "I figured as much," he said, gesturing for Burningum to continue. "So, what's so urgent?"

Burningum hesitated, his fingers drumming nervously on the desk before he waved a hand, activating the holographic display. Rotating images of Marian appeared above the desk, showing her pre- and post-recovery states. Burningum's hands stilled, his expression tightening as he spoke.

"It's about M-Marian," he began, his voice shaky but growing steadier as he went on. "She is... unique. An unp-p-precedented fusion of Rapture and Ark technology."

John's easygoing expression faded slightly, his gaze sharpening as he watched the images. "Go on."

Burningum cleared his throat, his gaze darting to the holograms. "If w-we could study her systems, d-dissect the mechanisms behind her recovery, we could advance the Ark's technology by fifty—n-no, maybe a hundred years. The benefits to humanity would be... incalculable."

John straightened, crossing his arms as his voice hardened. "And what happens to Marian during this little scientific breakthrough of yours?"

Burningum faltered slightly, his nervous fingers twitching again, but he pushed through. "I-it's not about what happens to her. It's about what she represents. S-s-sacrifices must be made for the g-greater good, Commander. Surely, you can see that."

John's jaw tightened, and he took a deliberate step closer, his voice lowering. "She's not a sacrifice. She's a person. A Nikke who's already been through hell. You think it's okay to turn her into a science experiment?"

Burningum adjusted his glasses again, his movements jerky but his tone firmer now. "I-I'm not unsympathetic, Commander. But this isn't about emotions. It's about s-survival. Humanity is fighting a losing battle, and if M-Marian's existence can help us win—"

John cut him off, his tone icy. "At what cost? You strip her apart for your data, and then what? You justify turning every Nikke into a tool. That's not survival. That's cruelty."

Burningum flinched at the sharpness of John's words but held his ground, his hands gripping the edge of the desk. "T-this isn't about cruelty, Commander. It's about practicality. If we d-don't adapt, we won't survive."

John stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get where you're coming from," he said quietly. "But Marian isn't just a pile of tech. She's my responsibility, and I'm not handing her over."

Burningum's gaze flicked to the hologram, then back to John. "You're making a m-m-mistake," he said, his voice quivering but firm. "Others won't be as willing to negotiate. They'll t-take her by force if they have to."

John leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Let them try."

The tension in the room was palpable, the two men locked in a silent standoff. Finally, Burningum sighed, his hands relaxing slightly as he deactivated the hologram. "Very well, Commander," he said, his tone resigned but still carrying a hint of his earlier resolve. "But don't expect this to end here. People less accommodating than me will come for her. Be ready."

John straightened, his usual smirk returning as he grabbed the half-eaten pie from the desk. "Always am," he said lightly, turning toward the door. "Good chat, Deputy Chief. You should try the pie—it's pretty good."

Burningum said nothing as the door slid shut behind John, his gaze lingering on the empty space where the Commander had stood. With a heavy sigh, he adjusted his collar once more, his hands twitching as he turned back to his desk.

John leaned against the wall of the elevator, the faint hum of its ascent the only sound in the enclosed space. He took another slow bite of the apple pie, chewing thoughtfully. The taste was familiar—warm cinnamon and soft, flaky crust—but there was something missing. It wasn't as sweet as he remembered, and the flavor seemed muted, almost hollow. He stared at the half-eaten pie in his hand, brow furrowing slightly.

"Did they change the recipe?" he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the low whir of the elevator. "Or is it just me?"

He sighed, shaking his head as he took another bite. The sweetness he was searching for still eluded him, but he chewed and swallowed regardless. The elevator slowed, the hum softening as it neared its destination. With a faint hiss, the doors slid open, revealing the lively bustle of the outpost.

Stepping out, John adjusted his jacket and pocketed the remainder of the pie, his boots clicking softly against the floor. The outpost was alive with movement. Nikkes moved about in groups, their laughter and chatter filling the air with a vibrant energy. Some carried supplies, others leaned against walls, sharing stories and smiles.

John's gaze swept over the scene, taking in the familiar sight of camaraderie. Despite everything, there was still a sense of normalcy here—a fleeting but welcome reprieve from the weight of the larger conflicts they faced.

A few Nikkes nodded in acknowledgment as he passed, and he returned their greetings with a faint smile and a casual wave. He kept his pace steady, weaving through the small clusters of activity as he made his way toward the outpost's command room.

As he approached, the hum of conversation faded slightly, replaced by the quiet efficiency of the command center's operations. The doors ahead slid open as he neared and John stepped inside, his demeanor shifting slightly as he straightened his posture. His earlier musings about apple pie were pushed to the back of his mind, replaced by the quiet resolve that always accompanied his return to the heart of the outpost. He glanced around briefly, his eyes scanning the room for any immediate signs of trouble, before making his way toward the commander's office.

The soft murmur of voices accompanied him as he moved through the command center, but his thoughts were already shifting toward the next challenge. Whatever awaited him here, he knew it would be one more step in the delicate dance of survival, strategy, and secrecy. And while the sweetness of the pie still lingered faintly on his tongue, it was the bitterness of reality that pressed most heavily on his mind.

John pushed open the door to the commander's room, stepping inside with a faint smirk already forming on his face. The scene before him was as lively as he'd expected—Neon and Anis sprawled out on the couch, their limbs in a tangled mess as they watched a comedy show on the wall-mounted TV. Neon's laughter was loud and uninhibited, while Anis alternated between giggling and teasing her companion.

On a chair a short distance away, Marian sat alone, her posture stiff as she watched the screen. Her hands rested in her lap, and while her eyes were on the TV, her expression was distant, as though her mind was somewhere else entirely.

John let the door close behind him with a soft click, the sound drawing Neon's attention. She twisted around on the couch, her face lighting up when she saw him.

"Commander!" Neon called out, waving energetically. "You're back!"

"About time!" Anis added, her grin wide as she sat up. "We were starting to think you got lost."

John held up the bags he was carrying, the bottles clinking together audibly. "Just picking up the essentials," he said, his tone casual as he walked further into the room. "Snacks, drinks, and enough apple pies to keep you all quiet."

That earned a cheer from Neon, who scrambled to her feet and darted toward him. Anis followed close behind, her hands already outstretched as she reached for one of the bags.

John pulled it back slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Patience, Neon, Anis," he teased. "We're doing this properly."

As he set the bags down on the central table, the door to one of the closets creaked open, and Rapi stepped out. Her expression was as composed as ever, though her eyes softened slightly when she saw him.

"You're late," Rapi said, her tone even but carrying a faint trace of amusement.

"Fashionably," John replied with a grin. "Had to make sure I got the good stuff."

Marian looked up from her chair as the others began to gather around the table, her gaze lingering on the bags. John caught her glance and smiled warmly. "Come on, Marian," he said, waving her over. "You're part of this too."

She hesitated for a moment before standing, her steps slow as she joined the group. Neon had already started sorting through the bags, pulling out drinks and snacks with unrestrained enthusiasm.

"Chips, candy, soda—ooh, vodka!" Anis exclaimed, holding up a bottle triumphantly.

John took the bottle from her hand, his grin widening. "Hold on to that thought," he said. "Let's make this a celebration."

He handed out the snacks and drinks, ensuring everyone had something in hand before distributing the apple pies. The room filled with chatter and laughter as Neon and Anis clinked their glasses together, toasting loudly to their success. Even Rapi allowed herself a small sip of her drink, her usual stoicism giving way to a subtle smile.

Marian sat quietly among them, holding a slice of apple pie but not eating. She glanced around at the others, her expression softening slightly, though her attempts to join in felt muted. Her laugh was quiet, and she often fell silent, her gaze drifting back to her pie.

He grabbed a napkin from the table and held it up with both hands. "Alright," he said loudly, his voice cutting through the chatter and drawing everyone's attention. "Time for a little show."

The others turned toward him, curiosity lighting up their faces. "What's he up to now?" Neon whispered to Anis, who shrugged but leaned forward with interest.

John held up the napkin dramatically. "Ladies and gentlemen, observe," he said, his voice mock-serious. "A simple napkin. Nothing special about it." He waved it around, flipping it in his hands to show both sides.

"Commander," Anis drawled, her eyebrow arching, "if you're about to fold that into a swan or something, I'm gonna be real disappointed."

"Shh," Neon hissed. "Let him cook!"

John smirked and crumpled the napkin into a ball, holding it tightly in one hand. "Now, watch closely. No blinking." He waved his other hand over the balled-up napkin, murmuring something under his breath as he slowly opened his hand—revealing that the napkin had vanished entirely.

Neon's jaw dropped. "What?!" she exclaimed, standing up in shock. "Where did it go?"

Anis squinted at his hands. "Okay, good sleight of hand, but come on, Commander. Where's the payoff?"

"Patience," John said, his grin widening. He stood up and reached toward Rapi, who was sitting quietly with her arms crossed. She gave him a skeptical look as he reached toward her pocket.

"Don't even think about—" she started, but John pulled his hand back, holding the same crumpled napkin between his fingers.

"Ta-da!" he said, bowing theatrically as he presented it to the group.

Neon clapped excitedly. "How did you do that?!"

"Seriously," Anis added, her eyes narrowing as she tried to figure it out. "When did you even get near her pocket?"

Rapi raised an eyebrow, taking the napkin from him with a faint smirk. "Impressive," she said, her voice neutral but carrying a note of amusement. "Though I'm still debating if I should call this magic or pickpocketing."

"Call it whatever you want," John replied with a wink, sitting back down. "But you have to admit, it was good."

Even Marian managed a small smile, her quiet laugh escaping as she shook her head. "That was... impressive," she said softly.

"Only the best for my team," John said, his grin widening as he leaned back. "Now, let's get back to celebrating. Marian, this includes you. We've got plenty of pie."

Back in Andersen's office, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Andersen sat calmly behind his desk, his fingers interlaced in front of him. Across from him, Commander Hana Shireikan sat upright, her posture stiff and her hands gripping the edge of the table tightly. Beside her, Eunhwa leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and her expression dark with barely concealed anger.

"The decision has been made," Andersen said evenly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "The mission report will be updated to include Absolute as co-participants in the operation alongside the Counters."

Hana blinked, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Co-participants?" she repeated slowly, disbelief lacing her tone. "But Absolute wasn't there. Commander Smith and the Counters handled that mission alone. How can we—"

"—be credited for something we didn't do?" Eunhwa snapped, her sharp voice cutting across Hana's. Her arms uncrossed as she leaned forward, her glare piercing. "This isn't just dishonest—it's an insult to everything Absolute has worked towards."

Andersen leaned back slightly, folding his hands in front of him. "This isn't about honesty or who was present," he said, his tone even but firm. "It's about ensuring that the success of this mission is framed in a way that benefits the Ark as a whole."

Hana frowned deeply, her grip on the table tightening. "And how does giving us credit benefit the Ark?"

Andersen gestured toward the hologram. "This mission isn't just a tactical victory. It's a political opportunity. The central government has taken an interest in the defeat of two heretics and the recovery of Marian. They want a face for this success—one that represents strength, cooperation, and stability."

Hana's expression darkened. "Why not give the Counters the credit they deserve? They're the ones who earned it."

"Because the Counters—and Commander Smith—cannot afford the scrutiny that comes with it," Andersen replied, his tone clipped. "Smith himself requested this adjustment."

Both Hana and Eunhwa froze, their eyes snapping to Andersen.

"What?" Hana asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Andersen nodded, his gaze steady. "It was Smith's idea. He came to me directly, asking to share the credit with Absolute."

Eunhwa's scowl deepened, and she leaned forward, her hands slamming onto the table. "You're telling me he wanted this? That he thought this was a good idea? Why the hell would he do that?"

Andersen's voice softened slightly, though his expression remained firm. "Because he understands the political landscape better than most. If the Counters take sole credit, it puts them—and Smith himself—under a microscope. Questions would be asked about his methods, his leadership, and most importantly, his past. He wanted to avoid that, and he trusted Absolute to carry the spotlight."

Hana's lips parted slightly, her expression a mix of surprise and realization. "He did this... to protect his team?"

"Yes," Andersen confirmed. "And to ensure the narrative remains controlled. By sharing the credit, the story focuses on teamwork and unity, while avoiding unnecessary scrutiny on Smith and the Counters."

Eunhwa let out a sharp breath, her fists clenching. "That's a load of crap. If he wants to hide, fine, but don't drag us into it. We didn't fight those heretics, and I'm not about to play along like we did."

Andersen's gaze shifted to her, his tone firm. "This isn't about hiding, Eunhwa. It's about protecting the people who fought that battle—and protecting the Ark from the fallout of questions we're not ready to answer."

Hana glanced at Eunhwa, then back at Andersen. "But it's still not fair," she said quietly. "The Counters did the work. They made the sacrifices."

"And that will be acknowledged," Andersen said. "This isn't about taking full credit. It's about sharing it. Both squads will be recognized, but Absolute will take a more prominent role in the narrative. It's a compromise."

Eunhwa pushed back from the table, standing abruptly. "It's a damn insult, that's what it is. You can do what you want, but don't expect me to like it." Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and marched toward the door, her boots echoing sharply against the floor. She paused briefly at the threshold, her hand gripping the frame tightly, before muttering, "Absolute doesn't need someone else's achievements to prove its worth, especially not hers!"

Hana watched her go, her expression conflicted. She turned back to Andersen, her voice hesitant. "She's not wrong. It feels... wrong to take any credit for this. But if John wanted this—"

"—His situation is complicated," Andersen said, cutting her off gently. "He knows Absolute is capable of handling this responsibility without letting it spiral out of control."

Hana was silent for a long moment, her hands tightening into fists on the table. Finally, she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Alright," she said quietly. "If this is what he wanted, I'll support it. But I don't have to like it."

Andersen nodded, his tone softening. "Thank you, Commander. Your cooperation means a great deal, both to me and to Smith."

Hana stood, her expression still conflicted. "Just make sure the Counters get the credit they deserve. They earned this more than anyone."

"They will," Andersen assured her.

Hana studied him for a moment longer before nodding curtly. She turned and made her way to the door, the sound of her boots softer than Eunhwa's sharp departure. As the door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss, the room fell into a quiet stillness.

On Andersen's desk, the cover of a dossier remained open—a summary of Commander Hana Shireikan's operational history. The text detailed her service record:

Commander: Hana Shireikan

Assigned Unit: Absolute

Blood Type: [REDACTED]

Current Rank: Commander

Operational History:

Operation Fall: Assigned to Commander Silver Gun – Status: REDACTED

Reassigned to Commander John Smith – Rationale: Internal Directive

Operation Spearhead: Assigned 0F-R1 – Primary Objective Secured – No Casualties Reported

Operation Shieldwall: Assigned 4T-9U – Commanded Forces to Secure Perimeter – Status: Successful – No Casualties Reported

Operation Knockbolt: Assigned Absolute – Secured Heavy Mineral Deposit – Perimeter Successfully Secured – No Casualties Reported

Operation Dawnfire: Assigned Absolute – Priority Assets Retrieved – Heavy Enemy Resistance Overcome – No Casualties Reported – Commendation Recommended: Denied

Operation Snowfall: Assigned Absolute – Joint Operation with Counters – Link Established with Northern Research Base – Encountered Two Heretics and Defeated Them – Retrieved Former Heretic Marian – No Casualties Reported – Commendation Recommended: TBD