Commander Yashin leaned in front of the large holographic screen inside the military bunker. The smell of coffee wafted in the room from his mug as heavy snow flickered across some of the screens.

"Pull up Simo's visuals", he said calmly, raising the mug near his mouth.

One of the staff nodded and tapped on the keyboard.

Simo's feed appeared, his body cam was covered in snow, half frozen, it showed nothing but white blur and shadows, but the data pannel beside his visual was clear enough.

Body temp: Dropping fast.

While another screen showed his body vitals.

Yashin's jaw tightened. "Hypothermia and chillblains", he muttered. Tapping the button near his console, he spoke loudly in the transmitter, "Väinö, try to wrap it up quickly. Now. Temperature just hit minus eighty-nine degree celsius. This mission can't be proceded forward, your bodies can't handle this much cold".

The static sound came back. Väinö voice came breaking in uneven patterns.

"Ye..s-sssir..—"

The line cut off.

Every screen present in the room blinked like a black and white television.

Then went dark.

The bunker went quiet in a heartbeat. No feeds. No vitals. No communication. Just the black screen pannels reflecting the grim faces of the staff.

Yashin didn't move, he stayed where he was, keeping the mug nearby, eyes fixed on the screen. Inside his nerves were screaming for this mechanical failure, but his face didn't show it.

"How long," he asked evenly, "until we can reconnect?"

No one answered right away.

________

The static died in Väinö's ear.

He tapped on his transmitter once.

Nothing happened.

Twice.

Still dead.

"Fuck...." he breathed.

The cold winds slammed onto the cliff like it was trying to throw both of them off the ice. His fingers and feet were already stiff from the drop in the temperature. The [DEADEYE]

skill faded on its own, his vision now snapped back to the white and grey chaos beside him.

"Otsu!!..." he yelled over the blazing hail-storm, turning his head. "Signal's gone. Base is dead".

Otsu looked up from the gear, eyes wide beneath his frost-covered goggles. "What?"

"We're blind," Väinö snapped. "No command, no visuals, nothing." He ripped the frost covered transmitter from his chest and smacked it once, like that would suddenly fix it. It didn't. "This mission's over."

He leaned closer and shouted, voice raw and cold. "Send a recall. All teams. Tell them to pull back now."

Otsu didn't argue, without waiting for any second. He pulled his wrist up, fingers flying over the screen whose brightness flickered in the cold.

Väinö keyed his own transmitter, forcing his voice steady. "All units, this is Väinö. Base contact lost. I Repeat — base contact is lost. Weather's getting worse. Mission aborted. Everyone turn back immediately."

The blizzard swallowed his words, but the signal went out.

He exhaled slowly, fog bursting from his mask.

"Come on," he muttered under his breath. "Don't be heroes. Just come back."

Suddenly Väinö's transmitter picked up the connection.

"— Väinö—"

The voice cut through the device like a dying signal.

Väinö froze. "Alex?"

The signal was weak and broken, like it was being chewed apart. Heavy breathing came through first. Then the panic.

"Väinö," Alex gasped, every word scraped against Väinö's ear, "the Kultainen team… they were never here. Their signals—"

a sharp cough came repeatedly, something choking, "—t...they were never in this sector. We've been deceived."

Väinö's blood ran cold.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he snapped into the transmitter. "Alex, fall back. NOW. Did you hear me?"

Alex didn't answer. Instead, there was a low, awful laugh, like air was being forced through a broken pipe.

"Those fuckers…" Alex wheezed. "They never entered the rift, Väinö. The video in this—"

The feed glitched.

"Alex?" Väinö barked. "Alex, fuck....respond!"

The sound came back for a second. Just a static sound.

"Haa… haaa…" Alex gasped. "Vä...inö… it hurts. Please— save—"

The transmitter died.

Silence.

Väinö stared at the device. His jaw tightened hard enough despite the aching cold.

"Alex!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, into the storm. "Get your ass back here, now!"

Nothing answered back at him. Not even a blurred static.

"Otsu!", Väinö snapped, turning back sharply.

"Trace his signal. Now. Tell me where the hell did he—"

He stopped at mid-sentence.

Otsu was on the ground.

At first, Väinö thought he'd slipped. Then he saw it, Otsu's body jerked sideways. His boots scrapped against the snow. His hands clawed at the snow, curling and uncurling themselves in desperate attempts.

"Otsu?" Väinö said, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

Otsu's back arched violently. A broken sound tore out of his throat, half gasp, half scream, the fog bursting from his mask in thick, panicked clouds that clouded his entire face behind the mask.

Väinö took a step back.

Otsu lay flat for a few seconds.

Then.

He lunged.

His eyes were completely blackened, like there was no sign of white ever present in them.

"Son of a bitc—" Väinö didn't finish the word.

He ripped the sniper from his strap and fired on instinct.

The short pierced through the hail — but missed the head. The round tore into Otsu's leg instead, shattering the bone and spraying blood everywhere on the snow.

Otsu didn't even slow down.

"Stay down!" Väinö roared and fired again.

Before the trigger could fully reset, Otsu hurled his pickaxe at him. Mana flared along its edge with air surrounding it. It spun once and slammed into Väinö's hand.

Pain exploded.

The sniper slipped from his grasp. Fingers went numb.

Otsu crashed into him.

His fist crashed onto his mask hard. Väinö's helmet cracked. His vision blurred and blood flowed from his mouth from the concussion.

Väinö twisted his body, slipping behimd Otsu and locked his arm around his neck. Tight and brutal. He wrapped it until his arms trembled.

"I'm sorry," Väinö gasped, voice breaking as he whispered through his helmet. "I'm sorry—"

Otsu's hand moved.

Too fast.

The knife flashed up from near his waist and plunged straight towards his mask, into Väinö's eye.

The mask shattered, and the cold stinging pain increased.

His nose stung.

His eyes screamed with pain.

His body refused to support him.

Väinö howled, a sound ripped straight from his chest, but his arms didn't loosen their grip. He tightened the hold, muscles tearing, breath burning as he screamed in pain.

Otsu thrashed once.

Twice.

Then went completely limp.

They fell together into the snow. Otsu's body on Väinö's.

Väinö lay there, shaking, blood pouring down his face, vision gone on one side. The wind howled over both of their bodies.

His transmitter crackled.

"V-Väinö…" Charles' voice came through, breaking apart. He was crying. Fully crying.

"We lost Alya. Sid too. They — they are—".

Static swallowed the rest.

The line cut.

"No..no," Väinö whispered. "No, no, no —don't worry. Don't worry. I've got you."

He pushed aside Otsu's body with a groan.

Dragging himself up.

He grabbed the sniper again. His eye burned like it was on fire, but he didn't blink. More like he couldn't, his eyes were covered in blood and tears.

[ DEADEYE ], he muttered as he bought the scope near his working right eye.

The pain got worse. Blood flowed faster from his left optic artery.

The scope locked in.

He brought the scope towards the direction, which he had pinged on his interface when he was talking with Charles.

Zooming in, he saw the familiar white coats but with cracked helmets and blackened heads.

"Fourteen point five six seven kilometers," he muttered. "Four targets."

The human silhouettes flickered and blurred in the storm.

"Fuck", he muttered, "May the gods never forgive me".

Väinö eyes teared up as he locked in his scope.

He fired.

One shot.

Head — gone.

He chambered another.

Second shot.

Hit the ventricle, in the Heart— the figure collapsed.

Third.

Hit the pulmonary hilum on the lungs — the figure's chest burst through.

Fourth.

Waist, on the abdominal aorta— his figure folded in half.

Väinö lowered the rifle, breathing hard, blood soaking his gear, the snow beneath him turning dark.

"Don't worry," he repeated to the dead air. "I'm still here. Charles. Please... I am still here"

The pain came all back at once.

His eye — where the knife had gone in, burned and throbbed with pain until the cold finally won. Frost crept over it, sealing it. His lips were swollen, split and numb. His cheeks were frozen with tears on them.

Väinö tried anyway.

He slammed the transmitter again and again, cycling channels, shouting names into the blizzard.

"Alya, Sid, Charles— Mäkinen, Olivia, leo.... where are you", he screamed into the device.

"I am alive fuckers.... just tell me your location" he screamed as new tears formed on his cheek.

"I will come, definitely.. so please"

But.

Only the cold answered.

His chest hitched. A broken sound slipped out of him before he could stop it. He wiped his face with his sleeve, smearing blood and tears together until he couldn't tell which was which.

Then the transmitter crackled to life.

A voice came through, from the other side.

Soft and mocking.

"So sad…that our little soldier lost everyone."

Väinö froze.

"Where is Commander Yashin?" he screamed into the snow. "Where the fuck is he?!"

The voice laughed, slow and ugly. Enjoying his desperation.

"Oooh, that old pipsqueak? Died. The fight between him and the Solborn Revenant was pretty interesting though. Damn, he had some strength afterall."

Something inside Väinö shattered.

He dropped to his knees and screamed into the storm. He grabbed handfuls of snow and rubbed it into his face, hard, desperate, until it burned worse than the pain. Until it hurt enough to worsen the condition of his eyes and face..

He crawled back to Otsu's body.

Otsu's eyes were still open, blackened and staring at the grey sky.

Väinö hesitated, then gently closed them.

"Your duty is done, soldier," he whispered. His voice shook. "You did enough."

The transmitter buzzed again.

"Oooh!!!," the voice teased, "how brave. Still standing after all that. I applaud your bravery. Soldier".

Väinö didn't answer.

He stared out at the endless white ahead of him. No base. No team. No way back. Just snow and silence and him.

"Mother, I did my duty," he said quietly. "As best as I could."

He raised his hand and saluted the empty air.

"I just wish we had more time," he added, barely audible. "All of us."

He pulled the sniper close, rested it against his head.

BANG.....

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