The soft scratch of a pen against paper was the only sound in the room. Rapi moved through the reports with mechanical precision, her mind focused, her posture stiff. Paperwork was a necessary evil, a task she handled without complaint, but today, the numbers blurred slightly before her eyes, the words feeling heavier than usual.
She knew why.
The door opened.
Her pen paused mid-stroke.
She looked up.
Commander Hana, Vesti, and Emma stood in the doorway.
The second she saw them, the weight in her chest doubled.
Rapi forced herself to sit up straighter, masking the way her fingers tightened slightly against the desk. "Are you here to talk with John?"
Hana nodded, her voice steady but lacking its usual confidence. "If he's available."
"He just got back from the gym," Rapi said, keeping her tone even. She tapped her comms. "John, you have visitors."
A few seconds of static. Then—
"Yeah, I just finished my shower. Give me a minute."
Rapi exhaled and turned back to them. "He'll be here shortly."
No one moved.
The air was suffocating.
Vesti wouldn't meet her gaze. Her hands were clasped so tightly in front of her that they trembled slightly. Hana stood stiff, arms folded, but her fingers twitched against her sleeve. Emma, the ever-warm presence, tried for a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
Rapi swallowed. She had fought alongside them once. She had trusted them. They had trusted her. And then…
And then she left.
This wasn't the first time she had faced the consequences of that choice. Eunhwa had made sure of that. But standing here now, with the rest of Absolute in front of her, looking as if something had been hollowed out of them…
It felt worse.
She glanced toward the desk, forcing herself to keep her voice neutral. "This is about Eunhwa."
A statement, not a question.
Vesti flinched.
Hana inhaled sharply, shoulders going rigid. "It's complicated."
Emma let out a slow breath, stepping forward just slightly. "Rapi, I—"
Rapi stood before she realized she was doing it. Her fingers curled against the edge of the desk, tension running through her shoulders. She didn't know what she expected Emma to say, but she wasn't sure she could hear it right now.
The silence was suffocating.
Vesti's hands curled into fists at her sides. Her lips pressed together, her chest rising and falling as if she was trying to keep something from spilling out.
Then, barely above a whisper "Why did you leave?"
Rapi's eyes flicked toward her.
Vesti wasn't looking at her directly. Her fingers clenched and unclenched, a restless fidget betraying the emotions she was trying to hold back.
"Back then…" Vesti's voice wavered. "We could have helped you. If you were struggling, if you were—" She cut herself off, swallowing hard. "You didn't even give us the chance."
Rapi's fingers curled against her desk.
She could have answered immediately. She could have said it wasn't that simple. That she had been trying to figure things out, that she had barely understood it herself at the time. But the truth was, she knew.
She had always known that leaving Absolute would lead to something breaking.
She just hadn't thought it would hurt this much.
"…I didn't want this," she admitted, her voice quieter than she meant it to be.
Vesti exhaled sharply, arms crossing over her chest. "Then why does it feel like you did?"
The words landed harder than Rapi expected.
She didn't have an answer for that.
Emma, sensing the tension thickening, gently placed a hand on Vesti's shoulder, a silent attempt to steady her. "John's coming," she said softly. "We should wait for him outside."
Hana nodded, giving Rapi a look she couldn't quite decipher before turning toward the exit.
Vesti lingered.
She stood at the doorway, her fingers twitching at her sides. Rapi could see it, how much she wanted to say something else, how much was still left unsaid between them.
Instead, Vesti's voice dropped to something small, something fragile.
"…I wanted you to stay."
Then she turned and walked out.
Rapi stood there, frozen, staring at the empty space where Vesti had been.
Her throat felt tight.
For a moment, she considered standing up, calling her back. But what could she even say?
I'm sorry?
I regret it?
Would it even change anything?
Her fingers clenched slightly, the words Eunhwa had thrown at her during the mission echoing in her mind.
Traitor.
She exhaled, pressing a hand briefly against her temple before sitting back down.
The minute it took for John to arrive felt like an eternity.
John rolled his shoulders as he approached the trio standing outside, the crisp morning air biting at his skin. His body still felt weak, too light, too unsteady, like a frame without the proper weight to ground it. The sensation gnawed at him, an irritation just beneath the surface, but he ignored it. The moment Hana turned and laid eyes on him, he caught the flicker of emotions that crossed her face. Shock, concern, something more carefully buried beneath her usual control.
Her sharp gaze swept over him, taking in the stark changes since she last saw him. The loss of muscle mass. The stiff way he held himself. The wheelchair beneath him.
"You look like hell," she said, her voice matter-of-fact, but there was a trace of sympathy there too.
John smirked, the expression dry. "You should see the other guy."
Hana's eyes narrowed slightly, but the faintest twitch of her lips suggested she wasn't entirely unmoved. Her gaze dropped lower, settling on his left hand where his ring and middle finger were conspicuously absent.
"And those?" she asked.
John glanced at his hand, flexing his remaining fingers. "Prosthetics are being made. Should be here soon. It's not the worst injury I've had."
Hana exhaled through her nose, unimpressed. "Right. Because missing fingers is such a minor inconvenience."
John shrugged. "Gotta look on the bright side. Fewer nails to trim."
Vesti made a sound that could have been an aborted laugh before quickly schooling her face back into something more neutral. Hana, however, didn't humor his deflection. She was still watching him closely, and for the first time since stepping outside, he felt something shift.
There was something about her that put him on edge. Not her presence, not anything she had done, but something deeper. His eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on her, and the feeling sharpened. It wasn't something he could see outright, not something tangible. But it was there. Her soul felt smooth. Too smooth. No rough edges, no imperfections. It reminded him of a stone worn down after years of water running over it, yet her soul felt… fresh.
The sensation unsettled him, but now wasn't the time to focus on it.
"Shall we?" he said, breaking the moment.
Hana nodded, leading the way inside.
The meeting room was sterile and impersonal, the hum of the overhead lights doing little to make the atmosphere any less oppressive. John rolled himself to the table, settling into place as the others took their seats. The weight pressing against his ribs hadn't faded.
Hana was the first to speak. "This is about Matis and Eunhwa."
John leaned back slightly, arms crossed. "Figured."
Her fingers drummed lightly against the table, her face unreadable. "Do you remember anything from the fight?"
John frowned, reaching into the fragmented pieces in his mind. It was all a mess. Flashes of Modernia. His body breaking. The overwhelming sensation of something being wrong.
"Not really," he admitted. "Bits and pieces. I remember fighting. The ground collapsing. After that, it's mostly a blur."
Hana exchanged a glance with Emma. It was brief but deliberate.
Emma inhaled slowly, then leaned forward. "You saved me."
John's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Emma's fingers curled slightly in her lap. "I was corrupted."
The words hit like a hammer.
John stiffened.
"She was about to strangle Anis," Hana clarified. "Had her pinned, and then—"
Emma took over. "And then you threw Anis a gun."
John blinked. He reached for the memory, but it was like grasping at fog.
"You were barely conscious," Emma continued. "You looked… Honestly, I thought you were already dead. But then, somehow, you threw the pistol to Anis."
John didn't speak, letting her continue.
"She fired," Emma said softly. "And I… snapped out of it."
A slow breath left John's lips.
"That's why we're here," Hana said firmly. "We need to know what was in that round."
John's mind immediately flashed to Snow White.
The bullet she had given him. Vapaus.
His fingers twitched slightly against his knee.
"That shot," Hana continued, watching him closely. "It cured Emma's corruption. If we can figure out why, if we can replicate it—"
"We might be able to save Eunhwa and Matis," Vesti finished, her voice small but steady.
The air felt heavier.
John exhaled, his mind already running through the implications.
If that single shot had cured Emma, then there was a chance. A real, tangible chance to bring them back.
But Snow White had only given him one bullet.
And he had already used it.
His jaw tightened slightly. He had to tread carefully here.
"I don't know exactly what was in the round," he admitted. It wasn't a lie. "But I have a guess."
Hana's sharp gaze didn't waver. "Go on."
John ran a hand through his hair, stalling for a second. "It was given to me by someone outside the Ark."
That caught their attention.
"Someone… outside?" Vesti echoed, eyes wide.
Emma's brows knitted together. "A Pilgrim?"
John hesitated before nodding. "Yeah."
Hana leaned forward slightly. "And this Pilgrim… Do they have more of those bullets?"
John exhaled. That was the question, wasn't it?
"I don't know," he admitted.
Hana frowned. "Do you know where to find them?"
"Would you all be fine waiting for me to recover first?" he asked carefully. "Once I'm back in proper shape, I'll go find them myself and get some answers."
The moment the words left his mouth, Hana's jaw tightened.
That was when he realized something was wrong.
"We don't have time."
John straightened slightly in his chair. "What do you mean?"
Hana exhaled, frustration threading through her voice. "The pressure is mounting. Public and governmental. Memory wipes have already been proposed as a solution."
John's brows furrowed. "Memory wipes? You mean… like a reset?"
Emma's jaw clenched. "Complete erasure of everything they were before corruption."
John exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. He had heard of memory wipes before, but never seen one. He knew Nikkes could be reset, their memories erased entirely, but having it happen before his eyes?
"So Ingrid and Syuen are just refusing for now?" John guessed.
"For now," Hana confirmed. "But pressure is mounting. If we don't act soon, the decision might be taken out of their hands."
John let out a slow, measured breath. He needed time, but it didn't sound like they had any.
John exhaled, drumming his fingers against the armrest of his wheelchair. "Are we sure the bullet was what did it?"
Emma gave him a sharp look. "You think it was something else?"
John shook his head. "I don't know. Rapture corruption isn't exactly a simple infection. We're assuming the bullet cured you, but what if it was something else? Maybe something happened while you were unconscious."
Emma's expression darkened. "No. It was the bullet. The moment I was hit, the corruption stopped. One second, I wasn't in control of myself, and the next, I was me again. It was immediate."
John furrowed his brow. Something about this still didn't sit right. "How does that even work? What exactly does Rapture corruption do to a Nikke?"
Emma hesitated, glancing toward Hana, who gave her a slight nod before she continued. "Rapture corruption hijacks the NIMPH system in our brains. NIMPH is what lets us retain memories, process combat data, and sync with commanders. But it's also a vulnerability. The Raptures force NIMPH to fire off signals in our brains, using it like a control node to override our thoughts and actions."
John leaned forward slightly, absorbing the information. "So the corruption doesn't just take over, it rewrites your entire neural system."
Emma nodded. "Exactly. But when I was examined, the entirety of my NIMPH system was missing."
John frowned. "That your NIMPH was… removed?"
"Destroyed or erased entirely," Emma corrected. "The bullet didn't just stop the corruption. It severed whatever connection NIMPH had to my brain. I can still think, move, and function like normal, but if I had to guess… I might not even be able to receive another memory wipe anymore."
John's fingers twitched. "You mean—"
"If that bullet works the same way on the others, then it won't just save them," Emma said, voice grim. "It'll make them permanently immune to further control. But it also means we have no idea what kind of long-term effects it might have."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
John exhaled sharply. "Alright. Say you're right. That bullet is our only shot at bringing them back. Where the hell do we get more?"
The room went still.
Hana's gaze hardened. "That's why we're here. We need to know where it came from."
John stared at her for a long moment. He could already feel where this was going.
He looked away. "I don't know."
Vesti's brows furrowed. "John, you had it. Someone gave it to you."
John exhaled through his nose. "I didn't ask questions when I got it."
That wasn't a lie. Not entirely. But he knew exactly who had given it to him.
Snow White.
A Pilgrim. Someone who had helped them when they needed it. Beyond her own sense of justice, she had no reason to help them. Someone who had chosen to leave the Ark. If Snow White had stayed hidden all this time, there was probably a damn good reason for it. He doubted it was just a matter of preference. People like her didn't hide unless they had to.
And now, Hana, Emma, and Vesti were asking him to lead the Ark straight to Snow White's doorstep, putting her and her people under the eye of those who saw every independent force as either an asset to be used or a problem to be… 'disposed of'.
John clenched his jaw. "Look, there's probably a reason whoever made that bullet hasn't come forward. If I track them down and bring back the information, that's one thing. But if I tell you where to find them, what happens next?"
Hana's expression remained unreadable. "We retrieve what we need."
John scoffed. "Yeah? And if they don't want to hand it over? What then?"
Silence.
John looked at each of them. "You know how the Central Government works. You know how the big three work. If they find out about this, they're going to want to control it. And if the person behind it doesn't cooperate, you really think they'll just let it slide?"
Emma hesitated, but it was Vesti who spoke next. "John, we don't have time for this."
John exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. "I know. And I want to help, but I need to talk to my squad first."
Hana's brow furrowed. "Why?"
John leaned back in his chair, his fingers tightening around the armrest. "Because I don't make decisions like this alone."
The five of them sat in the common room, the weight of their discussion pressing down like a storm waiting to break. The air was thick with the scent of fresh coffee and the remnants of a half-eaten plate of sweets that had long been forgotten. Papers were scattered across the table, mission reports and logistics plans that felt almost trivial in comparison to the decision they had to make.
John sat back in his wheelchair, arms crossed, watching his squad with careful eyes. He had laid it all out, the bullet, the limited time, the risk of exposing Snow White. Predictably, the mood had soured.
"So let me get this straight," Anis drawled, tilting her head with a skeptical smirk. "They want us to track down a living ghost, convince her to hand over miracle bullets, and then pray the Central Government doesn't come kicking down the door to claim it for themselves?" She exhaled dramatically. "Yeah, sure, easy. Maybe we can do it blindfolded while we're at it."
Neon let out a low whistle. "Yeah, uh, if Snow White is still out there, doesn't that mean she doesn't want to be found? Pretty sure that's a Pilgrim's whole thing."
Marian, sitting neatly with her hands folded in her lap, nodded slowly. "Even if we do find her, there's no guarantee she'll help. The first time, she had nothing to lose by giving you that bullet, John. But now? If she—or someone she knows—can actually make them, then she has everything to lose."
John exhaled, rubbing his temples. "I know." His voice was calm, but frustration curled at the edges. "That's why I was hoping I'd be the one to go."
The response was instant.
"No," Rapi said, tone flat and unwavering.
John rolled his eyes. "I'm recovering faster than expected."
"You can barely stand," she shot back.
"Give me two weeks."
"No."
John sighed. He had expected the pushback, but it was still grating. He hated sitting still while others did the heavy lifting. "I've got ways to speed it up."
Marian frowned. "Even if you force yourself to recover that quickly, it won't be real recovery. You'd be held together by sheer stubbornness, cursed energy, and… whatever terrible combination of drugs you're planning." She gave him a pointed look. "Your body needs time."
Neon grinned. "Oh, so he does have a plan to cheat."
John pointed at her. "Exactly."
Rapi remained unmoved. "Still no."
John exhaled through his nose, looking at Anis for backup. She held up her hands. "Look, I love a bad idea as much as the next girl, but this is actually too dumb even for me."
John groaned. "Then what do you suggest?"
Rapi leaned forward. "We split the mission."
That made him blink. "Split?"
"You stay here in the Ark," she said. "Focus on finding out more about the bullet or Vapaus. We've got analysts, fringe researchers, even a few people who specialize in forbidden tech. There's a chance that round wasn't unique."
Anis grinned. "And while you're doing the book club version of the mission, we'll go rough it in the wasteland."
John frowned. "You'll go after Snow White?"
Rapi nodded. "Me, Marian, Neon, Anis… and Hana."
John paused. "You're bringing Hana?"
"She's also a commando leader," Rapi said. "She has field authority and independence. Plus, if she's the one leading the operation, it won't get flagged and we can convince her not to report anything regarding Snow White."
John ran a hand through his hair. "And Vesti and Emma?"
"They stay behind," Rapi replied. "They've got too many eyes on them from Absolute command. The less they know about Snow White, the better."
Marian leaned forward slightly. "And if we do find her, we won't force anything. We ask. That's all."
It sounded like a reasonable plan.
But John didn't feel at ease.
He stared at the map, tapping one finger against the edge of the table. "You're asking me to stay out of it."
"No," Rapi said. "We're asking you to trust us."
John opened his mouth to argue, then stopped. His gaze shifted to her, and for the first time, he saw not just the soldier, not just his second-in-command, but someone who had been carrying her own guilt. Someone who wanted to save her friend.
He leaned back, arms folding again.
"…Alright. I'll dig around here. See if I can find anything about Vapaus. Maybe that Exia can help, she's helped me before."
Rapi nodded. "Good. That gives us two chances instead of one."
There was a pause.
Then Neon raised her hand. "So… what happens if John actually finds a box labeled 'Magic Anti-Corruption Bullets'?"
Anis smirked. "Then I hope he remembers how to use Blabla."
John sighed. "Let's just hope one of us finds something. Fast."
The command center was quiet except for the faint hum of monitors and the distant chatter of personnel outside. From the large window, John and Hana watched as Vesti and Emma made their way toward the barracks. The warm glow of the outpost lights bathed the streets below, illuminating the scattered groups of Nikkes going about their business. It was a peaceful sight, one that contrasted sharply with the tension still lingering between them.
John leaned back slightly in his wheelchair, arms crossed over his chest. "They took that better than I expected."
Hana glanced at him, her sharp gaze unwavering. "They understand what's at stake. They don't like sitting this one out, but they trust us to handle it."
John exhaled through his nose. "Trust, huh?" He drummed his fingers lightly against the armrest. "Feels heavier than responsibility sometimes."
Hana smirked faintly. "Tell me about it."
For a moment, they both watched in silence. The outpost had a different atmosphere compared to the Ark. Nikkes and humans moved freely, chatting, training, shopping, unwinding after long missions. There was a sense of normalcy here for the Nikkes, something that didn't exist in the Ark proper.
"It's a good thing," Hana murmured, her gaze sweeping over the streets below.
John arched a brow. "What is?"
"This." She motioned vaguely. "A place where Nikkes can just live. Not just as soldiers. Not just as weapons waiting for deployment. Out here, they actually get to have a life."
John followed her gaze, watching as a group of Nikkes laughed together near the market stalls, their postures relaxed, their weapons slung casually over their shoulders instead of gripped tightly like they were expecting orders at any moment.
"Yeah," he said after a pause. "I get that."
Hana sighed. "Doesn't mean things are any better for them everywhere else."
John exhaled, knowing exactly where this was going. "No. It doesn't."
The Ark had always been like that. Nikkes weren't citizens. They were assets, tools engineered to fight, to obey, to win wars that humans no longer could. Even if some humans treated them with kindness, there was still an underlying reality that couldn't be ignored.
"They protect humanity," Hana continued, folding her arms. "They bleed for them. They die for them. And yet there are still people who see them as things. Replaceable. Expendable." Her expression darkened slightly. "I don't know if that will ever change."
John's fingers tapped idly against the chair's armrest. "And you? How do you see them?"
Hana tilted her head slightly, as if considering her words carefully. "Like soldiers. Like people. Like…" She sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I just want them to have a choice. The same choices we have."
John's grip tightened slightly. He had heard all the arguments before. He had seen how Nikkes were treated firsthand. And it wasn't just about choices, it was about whether they were even allowed to have them.
Hana turned toward him. "That's why I wanted to ask you for a favor."
John glanced at her. "A favor?"
She nodded. "I don't know how long I'll be gone on this mission. A few weeks, maybe longer." There was a brief hesitation before she continued, her voice measured. "I run counseling sessions for Nikkes."
John blinked, caught slightly off guard. "You? Counseling?"
Hana smirked faintly. "Don't look so surprised."
"I mean… I just didn't expect it."
"A lot of Nikkes don't have anyone to talk to," she explained. "They're always on missions, or their commanders don't care. They don't get time to process things. So I make time." She looked at him, something firm in her expression. "It's not official, but it helps."
John studied her for a moment before leaning back. "And you want me to cover for you."
Hana nodded. "Just while I'm gone."
John exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know if I'm the best choice."
Hana arched a brow. "Why not?"
He let out a dry chuckle. "Because I'm not exactly… good at this kind of thing."
"You don't have to be a therapist," she said simply. "You just have to listen. Be there."
John hesitated. He had spent most of his life as a fighter, a killer, someone who dealt with things by doing. Sitting down and talking? That was something else entirely.
"What if I screw it up?" he muttered.
Hana shrugged. "Then I'll fix it when I get back."
Her smirk softened slightly. "Look, I'm not asking you to solve anyone's problems. Just… be someone they can talk to. Someone who won't dismiss them."
John let out a slow breath, his mind turning it over.
"…Alright," he finally said. "I'll do it."
Hana's expression didn't change, but there was something in her eyes that almost looked like relief. "Good."
John leaned back slightly, adjusting in his wheelchair, as the warm afternoon light filtered through the windows of the command center. Despite everything that had happened, moments like these, just watching, existing, felt grounding in a way he hadn't appreciated before.
Hana, standing beside him, let out a small sigh. "You really like staring at things, don't you?"
John smirked. "Call it a habit. Used to spend a lot of time on rooftops doing the same thing."
She hummed. "Was it a habit from your time in the military academy?"
"Something like that." His fingers drummed lazily against the chair's armrest. "You pick up a few things when you have to be aware of your surroundings all the time."
Hana chuckled, shaking her head. "I think you just like brooding."
"Harsh," John muttered. "I prefer to call it thinking."
"Right," she said, clearly unconvinced.
Before he could respond, the door to the command center slid open, and Rapi stepped in with her usual quiet efficiency. She stopped a few paces in, her sharp gaze flicking between the two before settling on John.
"We've booked a slot in the simulation center," she reported. "Hana and the Counters need to train together before we head out."
John exhaled, nodding. "Makes sense. No point heading into the field without getting a feel for each other's rhythms."
Rapi nodded. "We'll be leaving soon."
Hana stretched slightly, rolling her shoulders as if already preparing for the session. "Good. I could use a warm-up."
John smirked. "Try not to let them show you up too much."
Hana shot him a dry look. "I'll manage."
With a final nod, the group turned to leave, heading toward the simulation room. John watched them go, the easy flow of their movements, the quiet sense of purpose. His hands twitched against the wheels of his chair, something restless stirring in his chest.
He exhaled slowly, pushing himself toward the kitchenette.
Coffee. That would help.
The scent of freshly ground beans filled the space as he poured himself a black cup, steam curling up from the surface. He took a slow sip, but it did little to settle his mind. His thoughts kept turning, looping back to the mission, the risks, the unknowns.
He placed the cup down with a soft clink.
No. He couldn't shake this feeling.
Grimacing, he wheeled himself away from the kitchenette and made his way quickly toward his room. He didn't have much time before they left.
By the time he arrived, he could hear their footsteps still heading toward the exit. He called out. "Neon!"
A beat of silence, then hurried steps as Neon backtracked, peeking into the doorway. "Master? What's up?"
John rolled over to a small drawer, pulling it open. Inside, neatly arranged, was a small set of incense sticks wrapped in a dark cloth. He grabbed them, turning to Neon with a serious expression.
"Take these," he said, holding them out. "If you're ever in a situation where you need my help, burn one."
Neon blinked, looking down at them, then back at him. "Uh, what do they do? Call the cavalry or something?"
John smirked slightly, but his expression quickly sobered. "Something like that. Just trust me on this."
Neon hesitated for only a second before nodding, carefully tucking the incense sticks into a pouch on her belt. "Got it, Master. But you better not be planning to pull something reckless."
John leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Neon's eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't press further. "Alright, I'll let the others know." She gave him a quick, mock salute. "Take care, okay?"
John nodded. "You too."
As she turned and jogged off to catch up with the others, John exhaled, gripping the armrests of his wheelchair for a long moment.
He returned to the kitchenette, picking up his coffee again, though it had started to cool.
His mind refused to relax.
The simulated battlefield flickered to life around them. It was an urban ruin filled with crumbling buildings, tight alleyways, and broken-overpass vantage points. The Raptures were already moving in from multiple directions, their red-lit optics scanning for targets.
Hana stood back, watching from her command interface, her eyes darting between the live feeds displayed by the small reconnaissance drone hovering in the air above them. The drone's camera relayed everything in real-time, allowing her to track movements and coordinate tactics on the fly.
Rapi, positioned behind cover, took precise shots with her assault rifle, each round dropping a simulated enemy with clean efficiency. Anis was further back, launching grenades in controlled arcs to flush out enemies from their defensive positions. Neon was on the front lines, her shotgun blasting apart anything that got too close, while Marian was an unwavering presence, suppressing enemy advances with sustained bursts from her side-mounted machine gun.
"Rapi, shift positions and cover Neon's flank. Anis, prep a stun round for the next wave from the west," Hana instructed smoothly, keeping an eye on the drone's readouts. "Marian, suppress the snipers on the east rooftop."
The squad adjusted instantly, moving with practiced coordination.
Neon, however, was glancing at the drone, eyes slightly narrowed. "Uh… when did we get a floating spy? I feel like my job is being stolen here!"
Hana, tracking another cluster of Raptures moving in, responded without looking away. "It's standard for commanders. We use them to gather real-time data, coordinate movement, and adjust tactics."
Neon huffed. "Man, and here I thought commanders were just cool guys shouting orders while holding a gun."
Rapi, maintaining her cover while picking off enemies with controlled bursts, added, "Commanders are supposed to direct the battlefield from the rear line. The drones let them maintain control without being in the direct line of fire."
Hana nodded. "Exactly. The best commanders utilize every tool available to them to maximize efficiency and minimize risk."
Neon blinked. "Wait. If commanders use these things, then… what happened to John's?"
A beat of silence.
Hana turned slightly, her expression mildly concerned. "Yeah… does John use his?"
Rapi hesitated for half a second before responding smoothly, "He prefers to be closer to the action, so he doesn't use one."
Hana frowned. "That's not exactly ideal. He's supposed to be leading, not putting himself in danger."
Rapi shrugged. "That's just how he is."
Neon tilted her head. "Wait, wait, wait. So if he doesn't use it, then where—"
In John's bedroom, a small drone buzzed erratically through the air, brushes and brooms haphazardly taped onto its frame. It dipped low, sweeping across the floor, then hovered near a desk, using a tiny attached rag to wipe at some dust. A quiet whirring noise hummed as it diligently spun in circles, knocking over a cup but quickly sweeping up the spill.
The drone beeped to itself, happily continuing its cleaning duties.
The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting faint patterns across the desk, the floor, the wheelchair he sat in. The room was still, save for the soft hum of the air system and the cooling cup of coffee sitting untouched beside a stack of reports.
John sat near the window, fingers idly pressed against the armrest, his gaze unfocused. He had always been an early riser, but this morning felt different. It wasn't restlessness keeping him awake.
The door opened with a quiet hiss, and he didn't need to turn to know who it was.
Rapi stepped inside, already in her gear, her rifle slung across her back, the weight of the mission hanging around her like a second skin.
"You're awake," she said.
"So are you."
She didn't respond, but she didn't need to.
A silence stretched between them, heavy and unspoken, before she finally stepped closer. "Hana and the others are heading to the outpost elevator. We're heading out soon."
"I know."
A pause.
John exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. He wasn't sure why he felt so aware of this moment, why every breath, every second felt stretched longer than it should be. He had been injured before. He had come close to dying before.
But this time was different.
This time, when he had been on the ground, staring up at a ceiling that had started to blur at the edges, he hadn't felt nothing. He had felt…
He clenched his jaw, fingers curling against the armrest.
It had been so easy before. He fought, he bled, he survived. If he died, then he died. That was the reality of it. Simple.
But this time it had struck something deep, something he wasn't ready for.
Rapi, Anis, Neon, Marian… They cared. They had been hurt at the thought of losing him.
And worse—
He had cared about that.
Rapi was watching him too closely. She was trying to get a read on him, but he didn't like what she might see now.
"You don't need to be here," he muttered, voice quieter than before.
"You don't need to be awake."
"Touche."
Another silence.
He should say something else. Something to push her away, to create some distance. Because this attachment, this feeling of being relied on, of being wanted, of knowing that his absence would hurt someone, was dangerous.
It made hesitation possible.
It made the fear of dying real.
And hesitation and fear got people killed.
"You should get going," he said instead.
Rapi didn't move.
Instead, she finally spoke. "You've been injured before."
He tensed slightly. "I know."
"You've never looked like this before."
His grip on the armrest tightened.
She wasn't asking a question. She was stating a fact.
John let out a slow breath. "It's nothing."
Rapi's gaze flickered to his hands, to the tension in his shoulders, before settling back on his face. "It's not."
Damn her for knowing him too well.
John let his head tip back against the chair, staring at the ceiling. He thought about lying, thought about deflecting, but the words that came out instead were closer to the truth than he intended.
"It used to be simple."
Rapi remained silent, letting him continue.
"I fought because it was what I did. If I died, I died. That was just part of the job. Didn't matter." His fingers flexed slightly against the armrest. "But this time…"
He hesitated.
This time, he had seen something he wasn't supposed to see.
He had seen them.
Their fear. Their grief. The weight of his own absence before it had even happened.
"I don't like when people care too much," he said finally. "It makes things complicated."
Rapi's expression didn't change, but something in the air between them shifted.
"So you want us to stop?"
He closed his eyes for a brief moment.
The answer should have been yes.
If they stopped caring, if they stopped mattering so much, then this would go back to how it was before. Simple. Detached. Easy.
But that was a lie.
Because if he truly wanted that, he wouldn't have cared so much that they had nearly lost him.
John exhaled sharply, opening his eyes again. He turned his head slightly, meeting her gaze.
"No," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
Rapi nodded once, as if she had already known the answer before he said it.
She didn't press further. She didn't need to.
Instead, she reached out and adjusted the blanket draped over his lap. It was barely out of place, but she fixed it anyway. A small gesture.
A tether.
She didn't press him further. She didn't need to.
Instead, she stepped back toward the door, her expression unreadable. "We'll be back."
It wasn't reassurance. It wasn't even a promise. It was a fact.
John swallowed, nodding once. "I know… You should start heading to the elevator too. I'll join you guys soon before you head off."
She hesitated for only a second before giving him a short nod. Then she was gone, leaving behind only the lingering silence of the room.
John sat there for a long moment, staring at the door she had disappeared through. The weight of everything unsaid pressed heavy against his ribs, but he exhaled and shoved it down. He had work to do.
Morning sunlight streamed through the outpost, casting long shadows as John meticulously went over every last detail. The transport was prepped, the mission brief reviewed for the fifth time, and yet he wasn't convinced. Not yet.
The Counters and Hana stood near the elevator, fully geared and waiting, but John still paced—or, well, wheeled—back and forth in front of them, checking everything one last time.
"Water bottles?" he asked, glancing between them.
Rapi held up hers. "Check."
"Backup comms?"
Anis groaned, adjusting her grenade launcher. "Yes, Dad."
John ignored her, turning to Neon. "Emergency rations?"
Neon saluted playfully. "I packed extra sweets, Master!"
John exhaled through his nose, pinching the bridge with his fingers. "That's not… Never mind." His gaze flickered to Marian, who was checking over her side mounted machine gun with quiet precision. "You feeling good? Gear all set?"
She nodded, a faint, amused smile tugging at her lips. "Yes, John."
His eyes narrowed slightly, searching her expression for any hesitation. But there was none. Marian stood firm, her stance lighter than before, more confident, her shoulders no longer burdened by the weight of uncertainty. It was a good sight to see.
Rapi tapped her earpiece. "Still no response from Snow White?"
John pulled up his own device, frowning as he checked the latest messages on Blabla. Each one bore the same status. Undelivered.
"They haven't gone through," he muttered. "Either they're in an area with high Alva particle concentration or they're completely out of range."
Hana adjusted her gloves. "That complicates things. We were hoping for a direct lead."
"We'll have to stick to the backup plan," Rapi said. "Northern Base. Ludmilla and Alice might have some info on the Pilgrims' movements."
John nodded, though the unease in his gut didn't settle.
He exhaled sharply, crossing his arms. "Okay, then. But remember, check in every day. Even if you don't have new information, I want updates."
Neon grinned. "You got it, Master!"
John's brow furrowed. "And if you can't reach me, contact Shifty. If that fails, use the emergency beacon."
Hana sighed, rubbing her temple. "We'll be fine, John."
"You say that now," he muttered. "But still. And don't forget to stay hydrated—"
"John."
He turned to find Rapi staring at him, arms crossed, her expression unimpressed.
"You're acting like a worried mother."
John huffed. "Yeah, well, I don't like this."
"We noticed," Anis deadpanned.
The ramp to the transport lowered, signaling it was time to board. As they started filing in, John couldn't help himself. "Don't forget to call! And message me if anything feels off! And—"
The doors began to close.
"—and don't do anything stupid!"
Neon blew him a kiss as the ramp lifted.
John sighed heavily, watching as the transport took off, vanishing into the sky.
The outpost felt quieter already.
He ran a hand through his hair before shaking his head. No point in dwelling. They had their mission, and he had his own work to do.
Pushing himself forward, he exhaled, muttering, "Alright. Time to get my ass kicked at the gym."