Omega [REDUX]

Chapter 51

"This is absolutely ridiculous."

"You're the one that came up with this, you know," Elsa noted.

With an ungodly amount of jury-rigging and improvisation, the trio had transformed their suite into a combat course, replete with obstacles and targets strewn across the room, marked with red paint that Anna had procured from a nearby store. Elsa surveyed their handiwork, noting that while it remained necessary to stay alert, cautious and stealthy, they had grown in confidence after a full month on the run, even becoming willing to venture beyond the confines of their hotel suite to neighbouring outlets and venues.

Perhaps not the soundest strategic arrangement, but certainly a psychologically beneficial one. The reconnaissance certainly didn't hurt, and neither did the change of scenery. Staying cooped up in one area, even while constantly attempting to hone their skills and restore whatever was left of Elsa's muscle memory was still going drive her crazy, her own reclusive nature be damned.

"It's still ridiculous," Merida shot back, fletching the bow in her hand experimentally before tossing it to Elsa. "Besides, you know my ideas are rarely good ones."

"Speak for yourself."

Anna had convinced them that they needed to practice using bows since they would be working so closely together; if they found themselves in a situation where only Merida's bow was the closest available weapon, they'd all need to be able to use it, and use it well. Hence, what had started out as a side endeavor for Elsa had now become her main focus. Though it helped that she was a quick learner; she was grateful that she hadn't lost everything just yet.

"Are the two of you just gonna chitchat all day?" Anna smirked from the wall she leaned upon. "Or are you actually going to get started with training for once?"

"You got me." Merida raised her hands in mock surrender. "I've been talking outta my ass all my life. I've never learned anything in those years whatsoever."

Elsa notched an arrow to the bowstring, clutching onto the other five with her fingers.

Merida gave her a nod, then hurled the pillow into the air.

A breath. A notch. A twang.

Even before the first arrow fired had connected Elsa was off, vaulting over the second storey glass parapet. She ducked and rolled as she hit the carpeted floor, notching another arrow and firing.

The pillow slammed into the wall, impaled by the first arrow, stuffing spilling from the exit hole where the projectile had pierced through. The next arrow connected a second later.

Elsa bounded up onto the sofa and leapt. She fired, twisted, notched her bow and fired again. She was on the ground just as the arrows hit their marks, notching two more to her bowstring and firing. Twin targets, positioned perfectly atop a glass table, now found arrows embedded within their centers.

The sound of a bowstring to her left. Merida. Elsa twirled as she heard the twang, seizing the flying arrow midair and notching it in the same motion. With a final twist and release, the arrow slammed into the target just above the holoprojector.

Elsa relaxed, letting herself take two breaths before she surveyed her handiwork. Six arrows had found their marks, dead center. The ache would probably set in later, after her adrenaline had drained from her veins. For now, there was only the high of her success.

Merida coughed. "Not that I didn't know you were real fucking good at what you do," she began, shaking her head at the final arrow, "but I still didn't think you'd be able to pull that off."

"She did shoot a sniper round out of the sky, midflight," Anna quipped.

"You have a point."

Elsa laughed aside their comments as she walked up to retrieve the arrow. The noise of the holoprojector, once mere background noise to her ears, came back into focus as she took a closer look at the news broadcast.

". . . reporting multiple cases of child disappearances all across Sector 5, seemingly occurring within the span of a few weeks. S5PD issued a statement saying that they have yet to find any connection between the recent spate of incidents but advise members of the public to remain vigilant . . ."

It stilled her heart to think about it. Children going missing? She knew first-hand the horrors of what people could exact upon children. And now—

"We should go after them," Anna said, seemingly reading her mind. The gaze Anna had transfixed her with was knowing and weighted. "Not like we've got anything better to do while Charles fiddles around in politicking."

Even now, Anna seemed to always be in tune with Elsa. Knew her better than Elsa knew herself. Another remnant of simpler times, where they could be in sync without a word, without hesitation.

Elsa tried not to think about how far they'd fallen since then.

"That'll break our cover." Merida cut in, even as she made her rounds pulling the alloy arrows from their targets. "Thought the whole point of hiding out here was to stay low, and not draw attention to ourselves."

Merida was right, of course. They couldn't afford to be distracted. Distractions lead to carelessness. Carelessness lead to mistakes. Mistakes lead to tragedy, and they didn't need any more of those. The consequences were all too apparent.

"We can't just sit by and do nothing," Anna retorted. "That'd betray everything we're fighting for."

"And if they find out we're operating in this sector, we'll lose everything we're fighting for in an instant."

"I know we need to consider operational security," Anna said, running her hands through her hair, "but they're kids. Kids. We have to do something."

"This shouldn't even be a discussion," Merida shot back. "Now is the time to hunker down while Charles and Kristoff do their thing. We do anything out of the ordinary now, throw in another unplanned variable into our plans, who knows what could happen next?"

Their discussion faded into the background once more as Elsa turned away from the projection, gazing out at Ashton City and its myriad cityscape. It was a view she'd come to be familiar with in her exile. Oftentimes, Ashton City reminded her of all that she hated about everything.

And not just because she had to murder Edison just to save everyone else.

Cities were never Elsa's favourite places; they looked uncaring and cruel, their inhabitants small and far away in their hover-vehicles and strolling down pavements many levels below. So distant, just like how they always seemed to be with Elsa. She couldn't hope to know them. They wouldn't even consider trying to know her. Elsa always felt dwarfed. Suffocated.

And somewhere out there, stuck in all that mess were helpless, terrified children, snatched from a life they were just beginning to know.

Not unlike what she herself had been through.

Out there was the enemy. Hans. His loyal soldiers amongst the UIF traitors. And the rest of Empyrean. All of whom wouldn't hesitate to kill the three of them should they make a mistake.

But out there was also the wreck of the academy, on the lone mountaintop just barely visible on the horizon. Where Elsa had sworn to fight for what was right after being forced to do so much wrong. To never let anyone else go through what she had suffered. And where, for the first time, she'd found some semblance of purpose. Of joy.

Where she had found Anna.

To do nothing was to throw it all away. To do nothing was to forsake her ideals and her previous actions. To do nothing was to give up. And Elsa was done giving up. Powers and enhanced physiology or not, she was going to have to act.

But she didn't know how yet.

And that was always the infuriating part. Life didn't seem to care whether Elsa knew what to do, before throwing her another curveball, bullets not included. It was up to her sift through the shit and figure it out. So she sucked in a breath, cleared her head, and tried to let rationality prevail.

"Give it a rest." Elsa killed the projection and turned back to the other two. "I'm going to contact Kristoff and Charles for an update. Beyond that, we should wait out for further input."

"Elsa, we can't just—"

"I know, Anna." She sucked in a breath. "Believe me, I know." She glanced at her fellow Ascendant, noting the look of desperation on Anna's face. A look she was far too familiar with. "But we can't strike out blindly. We need to know what we're up against, and we can't do that when we still have no intel about UIF movements and activities. Only then can we plan for this new situation accordingly."

"It won't be doing nothing," Merida added. "We use this time to train. Scout. Plan. We'll be ready to act when we find out where and when."

Elsa watched Anna open to mouth to protest, but then she closed it and swallowed whatever she was going to say. She felt a thread of uncertainty take hold within her. Would Anna feel that she was being shut down? That Elsa wanted her to shut up? Would she take this the right way?

As disconcerting as their current situation was, Elsa suppressed her paranoia. There was only so much Elsa could do to make peace with Anna. She'd have to trust that Anna wanted to make peace too. Just as she trusted Anna to want to be her friend when they had just met.

And how annoyingly difficult it was going to be now, with the baggage of their past burdening them all the way.

". . . you're right." Anna exhaled, relaxing and leaning against the wall. "I'm sorry. I know we need to remain concealed while everything happens. I just became too . . . emotional."

"We won't get through this by being heartless," Elsa said, catching Anna's gaze and holding it. "Conviction tempered by empathy is what we need to get through of this. And knowing us, we have more than enough of both."

"Nothing?"

"Nope."

"You'd think they be doing something by now. Someone should be doing something by now. But other than the global manhunt for us and constant patrols, there hasn't been anything new?"

"Not yet. But you still need to keep your heads low. We could have missed something, or maybe the moles are really good and covering their tracks. Keep in mind that none of us knew there were two Reaper-class squads assigned to kill you in the middle of the night, even if you managed to anticipate it just before it happened."

Elsa sighed. It still didn't feel right. She didn't know what she was supposed to do but she had hoped something would have given her a clue by now. Some information would have been nice, or anything else to point her in any direction would have been better than absolutely nothing. But no such luck. "I don't suppose there's anyway to bait out a response of any kind?"

"You're the one that wanted to do this by the book," Charles replied, a smirk upon his face. "Plans take time. You of all people should know that."

"I guess I'm too used to things happening so quickly that I expect developments around every corner nowadays." The former Ascendant leaned back into the chair, a rare moment for her to relax, even for just a tad. Only then did she comprehend just how tense her body had become ever since their escape. "Or maybe I'm just worrying too much again."

"Again?" Charles chuckled. "Ever since I've known you, all you've ever done is worry in one way or another. Every action you take is borne out of a worry somehow."

"That's not . . . true . . ."

"One of these days worrying will do to you what bullets have failed to do so far."

A document popped up on the holodisplay. "Just got a notice from the Council, so this should be it. My request to investigate the internally sanctioned activities of General Hans Westergaard is . . . denied per UIF National Defence Directive Omega."

Elsa sucked in breath. "That can't be good." And that name can't be a coincidence. How far has the infiltration of the UIF gone?

"Indeed." Charles rested his chin upon a hand as he scrolled through the rest of the document. "This isn't exactly the development we were hoping for."

She placed a hand on her forehead and stretched her back, cursing inwardly. She didn't know what she was supposed to do now; that had been her only way into the inner workings of the UIF, or to force the infiltrates to respond. And it wasn't as if she had time to come up with a backup strategy while trying to evade capture most of the time. "I guess we should have anticipated the military bureaucracy working against our interests."

Her former handler sighed. "Who would have possibly thought?"

"I don't suppose you have any other ideas."

"Eh. I could just retire."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "I meant useful ideas."

Through the holodisplay she could see Charles smirking. Her gaze narrowed. "I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"I don't think we have to go through a military investigation to get this done."

This is new. "I'm listening."

"Most retired officials are granted an opportunity to instead opt for 'bureaucratic reenlistment'." Charles coughed. "Further contribute to the administration and all that. Become a Councilor, because why not?"

"Sounds like just another way to guarantee a free paycheck for life," Elsa sneered.

"I'm not naïve enough to deny the actions of other personnel who have risen to the appointment, but it's not always the case," came his reply. "More importantly, Councilors are still affairs of the UIF, but to a much higher degree.

"Now, if a Councilor wished to directly investigate specific activities within the UIF military wing, they'd have much more leeway in scouring through data previously protected by layers of legislation designed for military security. So if we can't get an existing Council member to stand with us, then . . . we can probably find a way to get a new one."

". . . Wait."

"Yes."

"We can do that?"

"Yep."

"And how do we do that?"

"I do know one of the Councilors is intending to step down." Charles shrugged. "Thanks to my injury, I'm quite eligible to retire from military service, and enter the civilian sphere. About time I got out anyway. Been moping about for too long about things beyond my pay grade. Which means . . ."

The soldier gestured to himself.

Elsa's eyes lit up as she chuckled. "Of all the ways out of our conundrum, I didn't think getting you elected in any capacity would be one of them."

Another smirk from Charles. "We're all full of surprises, aren't we?"

"I'm gonna lose my best handler."

"You went rogue. Losing your handler was part of the package."

"Touché."

A pause. Not unusual for their conversations most times, but there was something that hung unspoken between them, that prompted her next words to leave Elsa's mouth before she was fully aware of them. "I never got to thank you while I was in the UIF."

"Didn't figure you for the type." Charles chuckled. "And I really don't see what for."

"For forgiving me."

Another pause.

"Resentment cuts both ways, Elsa. I was fortunate to remember that when I met you. Not everyone has it easy like me."

Elsa didn't know what to make of that statement. "You've been through a lot. "More than most soldiers can say they've gone through."

"Most soldiers don't get to forgive what hurt them so easily."

"I don't understand. "

"Most mobility related injuries are linked to ordnance. IEDs, grenades, you know the lot. I doubt you'll extend forgiveness to a pack of plastic explosives." She watched him lean back into his wheelchair, a forlorn look in his eye. "The rest are to do with torture and captivity. Bad ways to go. Even worse ones to live through. Can't exactly forgive your nameless, faceless monsters.

"I was fortunate enough to see that the person that put me through throw herself down time and again for the people she cares about. That helps. With the forgiving process, I mean. Not many people get that chance for reconciliation."

"I don't deserve your forgiveness." The ache in her heart burned. Almost as much as her eyes did as they brimmed with tears. "I don't deserve anyone's. Not after all this."

"More people forgive you than you think, Elsa."

"That doesn't change anything that's happened. It doesn't change what I've done."

"No, just as much as my forgiveness for you won't change the fact that I'm paralyzed from the waist down for life. But remember that you can choose to keep going in spite of what's happened. You already have – just look how far you've come. You just need to remember how to do so again."

"Just another one to add to the list," Elsa sighed. "Not like it's worked for all the things that came before."

"It never feels like it," Charles said. "Though sometimes it isn't about what's happened before, but what you can do about it now. You did the same thing when we first got you out of Empyrean custody."

"I was used as an experiment. UIF citizens paid the price." Anna paid the heftiest price of all.

"You weren't aware of that. What you were aware of was an insatiable desire to learn, develop and move on. And you followed those instincts, in spite of everything that had happened to you." Her former handler transfixed her with a stare she couldn't quite put her finger on. Sadness, yes. But a kindness outlined his features. "You are a survivor, Elsa. You've gone through hell and back. And believe it or not, you can do it again."

"I'm going shopping."

"You're kidding me." Merida was staring, mouth agape.

"I'm not going to live on hotel food for the rest of our time here," Anna protested. "We're going to actually cook something, Merida. We've had enough MREs to last us two lifetimes."

"You're forgetting that the room service isn't exactly dried packed food," Elsa said, a smile forming across her face. "But I see your point. I was getting sick of their stuff anyway." That, and the necessity to minimise contact with the staff as much as they could. People had a tendency to remember things they shouldn't have had business remembering to begin with. Which was why they had been primarily living off on whatever rations the drone-dropship had been carrying.

Things were . . . different now, between them. Elsa doubted they would ever reach the same level of intimacy they shared while they were in the academy and in Cradle Alpha, but they definitely were beyond the phase of absolutely detesting each other, much to Elsa's surprise. And while she definitely wasn't as good at reading people as before, Anna had never been particularly hard to read. Not for her, anyways. Anna was cordial about the whole thing, at the very least. With a tinge of kinship. It could have been worse.

It was probably all Elsa deserved to hope for anyways.

"Well I'm not cooking." Merida huffed and sat on the couch. "The two of you can cook and you can wash up and not drag me into any of it."

"Guess that means we won't drag you into eating whatever we cook either," Elsa chimed as she pulled open the door.

"Come on, Merida," Anna laughed. "We all know the real reason you don't want to cook is because you're terrible at it."

"Out! Begone!" the archer mock threatened. "Go get your fresh ingredients. And be careful!"

"Sure thing, mom."

"Anywhere in particular you were thinking of heading?"

Anna cocked her head as her gaze met Elsa's. "No. Not really. Thought we'd take a walk and find out."

"To be honest, I've never really gone shopping," Elsa admitted with a sheepish grin. "Remember the ingredient drops we got at Cradle Alpha? Never had the chance to go out." Anna watched her lean against the elevator's wall and watched the numbers on the elevator display fall. "Never needed to. And besides, we were basically on call all the time. What ungodly hour did they wake us up when their Support Carrier got attacked again?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "Good god. Like, four in the morning? Empyrean has zero regard for REM cycles." She didn't mention that it was also the time Elsa got mowed down by a minigun, because she wasn't sure how either of them react to such an open display of concern. Not yet, at least. She wasn't sure either of them were fully cognizant about the relationship they had with each other. Too many gray areas.

Thankfully they covered up any awkwardness with a bout of laughter. It was easier now. Less tense, more open. Whether it was by necessity or by choice was something Anna still sought to figure out.

Anna hadn't been on a street for a very long time. As far as she was aware, the last time she'd really been out was during the convention attack, which was really bad when she bothered to think about it. She remembered she used to love walking the streets as a child, with her parents by her side. There was still something appealing about it, even now, when the last reminder of her parents was probably buried in the pile of stuff left behind in Cradle Alpha, or within the wreckage of the academy. Anna had lost track of the locket ever since she'd been converted to an Ascendant, but some things never left her.

She wondered what it'd be like now to walk the streets once again. She supposed it was part of her inherent nature to want to roam, to explore, to be free of walls and constraints. Now though, so many things had changed. She wasn't sure who she was anymore, but she still felt the pull regardless. Not that there was any particular harm in following those impulses just yet.

"Do you think I'm getting my powers back?"

The question came out of the blue, jolting Anna out of her runaway train of thought. "Erm – " Anna glanced at the elevator display, noticing that they were halfway down the hotel floors. "I scanned the files for anything useful, but nothing conclusive so far." Damn this elevator ride is long.

"Hit me with whatever you've got," Elsa said. "I've been poring over those myself, but best to check if we missed anything."

Anna felt hesitant discussing what she had read; it was tenuous information at best. "The files note that your powers are linked to your psychological state. Keeping you psychologically healthy was key, or so they Empyrean files claim."

"That can't be the full picture." A ding, and Anna watched Elsa glance at the now opening doors. "Calling my experience in Empyrean psychologically healthy is a travesty."

"Might have something to do with the chip."

"I'll need more time to analyze it. The circuitry is unlike anything I've ever seen before. All we know is that it broadcasted the Ambrosia signal to knock out your augmentations. If it did anything more, or anything invasive, I'll need more time to look at it."

Frowning, Elsa rested her head on the wall and stared at the ceiling. "I'd have felt something if it was invasive. And your scans would have picked it up. Don't think that's it."

"Then I guess whatever the neutralizing signal does to us might have more long-lasting effects than we thought." Instinctively she placed a hand on Elsa's shoulder and caught her gaze. "Powers or not, we've got this. You've got this."

"I really hope you're right."

Anna didn't really know what else to say about that. Neither of them knew enough about themselves to make any definitive judgements. But she knew Elsa didn't like being lied to, and right now she wasn't sure if she could offer anything that wasn't exactly a lie.

Their routine for leaving the hotel was to keep their heads down and walk at a brisk pace, trying not to draw too much attention to the fact that their clothing was relatively the same all the time, and hoping that the hotel staff and guests wouldn't want to intrude on their privacy. Not that the hotel staff did that routinely, but the guests were deemed more unpredictable. If they were made, there was a staff exit that Elsa had scouted out by stealing a uniform a few days earlier. It was rarely used, and they believed they could use it as a discreet entry point as well.

The duo made it out without incident, just like all the previous times so far, but Anna could still see Elsa tense up as they reached the street, walking alongside other passers-by. Not that she wasn't scared either, but ever since she'd known Elsa she could see the signs of strain. Elsa could handle stress for sure, but that didn't mean she was a watertight case. Some things slipped through the mask, or maybe it was only Anna that could see it. She wasn't sure if she should ask Elsa how she was holding up being on the run, but then again, Anna wasn't sure she was ready to have that heavy a conversation with Elsa just yet.

"Supermarket, at our ten o' clock." Anna glanced in the direction Elsa had indicated. It was a bustling building with steady streams of incoming and outgoing customers. A myriad of them: young and old, singles and couples, families with children. Domestic bliss. Something Anna had been robbed of. Twice. "How many cameras?"

Anna almost missed the second thing Elsa said. "Oh, yeah. Right. Er . . ." Her HUD materialized within her irises as she scanned the building, interfacing with its systems remotely. "50 of them."

"Too many. That's off our list."

"You know I already electronically mask us from every street camera we walk past right?"

"One at a time is easy to pass off as a series of system glitches. Jamming a whole bunch in one go as we walk in the front door is suspicious. Besides, way too many people."

Elsa had a point. "Then where else are we supposed to go to get food?" Anna asked. "Cause if we order takeout Merida is going to laugh her ass off."

That got a chuckle out of Elsa. It made Anna's heart flutter. Another echo of times gone by.

Anna pulled up a map of Ashton City. She, along with Elsa and Merida, had agreed on a radius of operations that they were not to venture beyond so as to avoid stray UIF patrols unless absolutely necessary. "There's a area that mainly houses small shops not far from here," she said, checking her map for directions. "Could have some provisions stores along there.'

"It's worth a look."

A short walk led them to a quieter part of the city, where the roads served to go around the city block instead of within it, leaving footpaths as the main mode of commute. With almost as many alleyways as there were shops it wasn't exactly a fit for the rest of the cosmopolitan Ashton City, but there was a charm to it that Anna had never seen before. She made a mental note to come back here to explore whenever it was safe.

"Provisions store," Elsa said, and Anna turned to look. Wandering Oaken's Trading Post and Sauna. "Seems a little out of place."

"Who puts a sauna in the middle of the city anyway?" Anna wondered out loud.

"Let alone sell daily necessities in the front." Elsa shrugged. "You need all kinds to make a world, I guess. Go on in. I'll keep watch."

"You sure?"

"Someone has to."

There was a distant look in Elsa's eyes that she wasn't quite sure how to interpret, but decided it would be best to leave it. "Alright. Holler if you need anything, or if something crops up."

"Will do."

As she pushed open the door, three children came bumbling out, laughing and squealing as they chased each other. Anna's gaze followed them out, and she noticed that Elsa's did too.

She shook her head and entered the store.

"They're all bundles of joy, aren't they?"

Anna turned toward the voice. A particularly large man stood behind the counter. "They are," she replied with a smile. "Are they yours?"

"Very much so," the man said, beaming with pride. "Ah, they grow up so fast. Seems like it was only yesterday they were still crying in their cots."

"You're a very lucky man."

"You're absolutely right." He outstretched his hand. "My name is Oaken. A pleasure to meet you."

"Anna." She shook it. "The pleasure is mine. How old are your kids?"

"They're eight, five and four respectively." Oaken sniffled a little. "I didn't want kids when I got married, but my husband convinced me having a family was worth it. I've never been so happy to be wrong before."

Something he said struck a chord within Anna, but she dared not let it show. Just another emotion for her to process when she was in a secure location. Her heart ached. It had been for a while now, but now it was worse.

"What brings you to my shop?" the shopkeeper continued. "We normally only get my regular customers who live around here. Never anyone new. No reason for anyone new to come here."

"Well they're missing out," Anna said, looking around. "You have quite the place here. I'm looking to buy some food. Want to prepare a meal."

"Ah, then you shall be interested in my goods. What are you hoping to prepare? Lutefisk, perhaps?"

The sound of children playing was a sound she hadn't heard in a long time. Unfamiliar, in the sense that she rarely heard children in the city to begin with, and her time in the academy had primarily comprised interactions with adolescents and above. Unnerving, because the last time she could remember it well was when she herself was still a child, sneaking in games between physical abuse sessions, cooped up in their Empyrean compound. When the other Ascendants were her family, comrades, and not trying to kill her yet.

There were three of them in the alleyway now. Playing with a ball, by the sound of it; Elsa stood around the corner of the street outside the store as she waited. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb their enjoyment, and for some reason Elsa didn't really want to meet children anyway. There was an aversion to the idea in her head. She wasn't sure if she just wasn't sure how to act around them, or if it was a principle of not letting herself near anything that pure and innocent. They deserved better. Not someone like her.

And here you are, shopping with Anna.

She shut her eyes, banishing the thought as far as she could. As far as she was concerned, they were both out of the confines of their designated safe space, so she needed to be alert. The lack of intel about the inner workings of the UIF left her paranoid that they would be discovered, and that it would only be a matter of when, not if. For now she honed her senses on her surroundings, watching every movement as best as she could, taking in every sound and smell. Elsa wasn't sure if she was enhanced anymore, but if anything that meant she had less of an excuse to be careful.

She turned to watch Anna chatting up the store owner. A largely built man that towered over her friend, barely fitting behind the counter of the small shop that he ran. He had a warm smile on his face that matched Anna's expression, even as he turned to put away an oddly placed pile of winter stores. Elsa knew that Anna could always make people smile and laugh; it was her real superpower, before all the augmentations Empyrean threw on her. She found herself missing the times were Anna would make her laugh, when they were so much closer. When they were happy together.

Get it together, Elsa. She sucked in a breath to dull the ache within her heart. Hindsight is a tactical miscalculation that you can't afford. Not now, and not ever. Not when you both have a job to do. Regardless of your past you both need to work together to deal with whatever the hell—

Just over the bustle of her surroundings, she heard the signature sound of a suppressed gunshot.

Almost on instinct she crouched, every sinew in her body tensing up, her eyes darting left and right as she scanned for the source of the sound, her heart racing as she considered the implications. Was she made? Did they have a bead on her? On Anna? How long did they have before everything escalated beyond their control? Would they have time to warn Merida?

Then she heard another shot, causing her to flinch. And then another.

And then nothing.

Frantically she looked herself up and down. She wasn't hurt. There was no bleeding, or puncture, and she felt no pain. Something didn't add up. There wasn't any obvious point of attack. There was no damage within her immediate vicinity. So unless the shooter possessed terrible accuracy, then something else was going on, or maybe the shot wasn't meant for her.

And then Elsa realized she couldn't hear the sound of children playing anymore.

No one else along the streetwalks had seemed to notice. The pedestrians continued about their day. Elsa rose to her feet and pressed herself against the wall of the shop, took three short breaths and risked a brief glance around the corner. Three children lay prone in the middle of the alleyway.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

She resisted the urge to rush over and check the bodies. No matter how much the voice inside her head was screaming at her to. She needed eyes on the shooter, and right now she was scanning everywhere she could think of and there was no sign—

Three armour clad soldiers walked out from a passageway that she could not see from her current angle.

There was a small nook on the otherside of the shadowy alleyway. Elsa held her breath, then silently stepped away from her old position to a new hiding place. She could hear the soldiers moving just a few metres away, two of them shuffling about as one of them began to unpack something on the ground.

"Clean shots," she heard one of them say.

"Eh. The firing range has more challenge."

"Yeah, no shit." Zipping and clacking. Something being unloaded. "Tag 'em and bag 'em. And watch the darts. We don't need them snapping inside their necks."

"That means don't kill them, dumb dumb. Tranquilize only."

"Shut the fuck up."

Tranquilize? Her eyes narrowed. What's the point of tagging random children? And—

It clicked. The child disappearances. The lack of meaningful coverage, reports and intel. This had to be it. But that didn't explain everything. Who were these soldiers? Why capture random children or was there a pattern to these abductions as yet unrevealed?

She shook her head. It didn't matter. She couldn't risk letting them suffer. Not like she did—

Black armour.

Like the kill squads at Cradle Alpha.

What the hell do the people that want to kill me want with kids?

"Packages secure."

"Then let's get the hell outta here."

Elsa heard the rustling and clicking of gear being attached, and she peeked out from her hiding spot. Each soldier now carried a body bag each, slung over their shoulder, as they hooked up to a set of cables attached to the roof of the building. The first two triggered the climbing devices in their hands, zipping up the lines effortlessly.

Without thinking Elsa lunged forward, jumping off the wall next to her with one leg and grabbing onto the last soldier.

As the man cried out in surprise, Elsa grabbed onto his armor, pulling herself up. With one knee she blocked a blind swing as she stepped upward and straddled the man's face, locking his helmet between her legs and trapping him. She grabbed onto the climbing device and triggered it, the mini-motor pulling the two of them up. A flurry of blows assailed her from beneath, and pain blossomed all across her legs and lower torso.

"What the hell?" she could hear from above them. "Who is that?"

Elsa seized the body bag from where it was slung over his back and let the soldier fall, kicking him for good measure. His cries of despair trailed her ascent before they were silenced by a sickening crunch.

As Elsa swung both herself and the unconscious child over the parapet she sighted the remaining two soldiers charging her, shock batons drawn. Non-lethal? Their modus operandi was starting to make sense: covert, minimal collateral, live subjects. It was clear they wanted the children for something. Elsa gingerly set the bag down, assessing her attackers' incoming vectors.

Then they stopped in their tracks. "That's. . ." one of them began. "It's her!"

Elsa cocked her head. "Damn right it is."

"We gotta call this in," the other soldier said, hesitating. "We need backup—"

Elsa dashed toward her opponents, leg lashing out and kicking the baton out of one soldier's hand. She twirled and swung the same leg in a sweep, knocking the same soldier off her feet and dodging backwards as her companion swung at her. As the man stabbed forward again Elsa grabbed his arm, slamming her knee into his torso once, twice, then throwing him behind her as she readied herself for the first soldier's counterattack.

She assessed the soldiers' form and fighting style as her attacker lunged. Quick, well-placed attacks disentangled her from the brawl, and her adversaries fell back to regroup, the disarmed woman quickly drawing a combat knife. One female, one male. Female's swings focused on power. Brute force. Male wants to put me into holds, or countering my attacks. Elsa inhaled, trying to shut out the pain from hitting plated armor with her bare fists, and reentered the fray.

Elsa dodged under the first swing and slammed knee-first into the male soldier, crashing her elbow down unto his helmet, then ducking as the female one swung overhead again, her knife cutting into the helmet of her companion. With both hands she pushed away the female soldier and kicked outwards, sending her slamming into an air-conditioning unit. From the corner of her eye she watched the man discard his battered helmet, and she spun to strike him in the face with one hand, the other seizing his hand and twisting, placing him in a palm lock. Her leg kicked out from under him, sending him sprawling onto the roof.

Metal pierced flesh along her shoulder; she cried out in pain, but not before elbowing her surprise attacker and shoving her away. The blade had missed the main chunk of her back, and with some quick, albeit painful, contortion Elsa had the knife yanked out and in the palm of her hand. The woman seized the brief opening her attack had caused and slammed a fist into Elsa's face, and as Elsa tried to see through her now blurred vision, she felt a heavy boot slam into her stomach. She doubled over, winded, but caught the flash of another attack from her left. The former Ascendant rolled away and stabbed outward blindly, feeling a brief flash of relief as she felt the blade pierce plating and flesh alike, eliciting a shout of pain.

Her hand still plunging the blade down, Elsa pulled herself up and struck upwards with her other fist, knuckles connecting with hard metal. The female soldier. Elsa seized the fist flying towards her face and yanked sideways, pulling the female soldier over her back and slamming her onto the concrete roof, trying her best to block out the pain her shoulder received from the maneuver. The other soldier, still grasping his shock baton, swung at her, and Elsa couldn't dodge in time. She realized her mistake as electricity coursed through her body, forcing a cry from her lips as she doubled over.

That pain was nothing compared to the feeling of the knife plunged into her thigh. And neither were her screams.

"Didn't think we'd be bagging an Ascendant today." The woman twisted the knife, and all Elsa could muster was a hoarse cry as she felt gloved fingers grab her jaw, turning her gaze toward the soldiers. The warm trickle on her thigh was becoming alarming. "No ice powers today, Frosty? Didn't see that coming either."

"Careful with her," the man said between ragged breaths, clutching his side as he limped over. "Command wants her alive. It won't be easy to justify if we hurt her too much."

"Don't be a pussy. Just say she put up a fight." The woman snarled as she turned back to Elsa, affixing her with a sinister gaze. "Works every time."

In between gritting her teeth through the pain, Elsa managed to notice herself shivering. Not good. Not . . . good at all.

"I don't suppose now would be a good time to—"

A whine, then a blast, and the sound of a body collapsing next to her. The woman turned, then a bloody mess took the place of her face, and the headless corpse fell to the floor, releasing Elsa from its grasp.

"Oh my god. Are you okay?" Hurried footsteps. "What the hell did you get yourself into?" Anna. "And who the fuck are these guys?"

Warm hands. On her head and lower back. Anna's face came into view as she scanned the litany of injuries upon Elsa's body. "How bad does it feel? What did they hit you with? Huh? This is from the knife, there was a baton on the floor. Did they burn you? With the suit-things? Did—"

"Children," Elsa gasped, managing to get a word between Anna's questioning and her own, pained gasps for air. She raised her hand, trying to point to the black shapes on the roof. "Body bags."

"What?" Anna turned around to survey their surroundings. "You mean the black . . . bags? On the ground? There are children in there?"

Elsa ignored the confusion written over Anna's face and tried to stand up, only to be held back down. "Stay."

"I gotta—"

"Goddammit Elsa, you're hurt. You need to stay down."

Without another word Anna set her down, rushing over to the body bags.

Elsa sucked in a breath and laid back down. Anna could take care of it. Now Elsa had to focus on the cold that overcame her body. Pain was an enemy she could deal with well. Cold, less so. Not into the multiple times that she'd had to deal with what was an entirely alien sensation to her, almost always the harbinger of bad things to come.

She inhaled deeply once again and tried not to slip into unconsciousness.

Anna triggered a scan of the three bags on the ground. Three prone, small bodies lay within. She recognized them: Oaken's children. With stable vitals, but all of them remained unconscious.

It was chilling to realise that it had barely been half an hour since she'd last seen them running cheerfully out of the shop, squealing in jest, and now they were prone, limp in her hands.

She could feel her heartbeat pounding within her ears as she darted from bag to bag, unzipping and carrying the children over, placing them down next to Elsa.

"What just – what's going on?"

She turned her head to see Oaken and his husband emerge from the roof access stairwell, mouths agape from the carnage laid before them. "We thought we heard gunshots and—" Oaken's gaze travelled from the two headless bodies to the three children that lay next to a badly bleeding Elsa. "Oh no."

"Your kids," she managed as she stripped fabric from the dead soldiers' armor undersuit to make a tourniquet. "Abduction attempt. We stopped it. Well—" She cocked her head at Elsa. "—she did all the work."

"Oh my God."

The couple rushed over to assist. Oaken tore off his sleeve and began working on a makeshift bandage; his husband began checking on their kids, trying to wake them up. "She's losing blood. Fast."

Beneath her Elsa's eyelids began drooping. Her grip on Anna's forearm began to slacken. "Come on, Elsa," she breathed as she secured the tourniquet, motioning for Oaken to wrap Elsa's wound next. "Stay with me. I've lost you too many times already, don't add one more to the list."

"How did this happen?" Oaken's husband asked, his forehead creased with worry. "Who could want to take our children?"

"Must have been the same kidnappers we're hearing about on the news," Oaken replied, securing the bandage tightly on Elsa's stab wound and glancing at her face, looking for a reaction of any kind. "If not for her . . ."

The sound of sirens echoed upwards from where they were. Anna triggered a scan and brought up her tactical view of her immediate proximity. First responders were less than 300 metres out. "I have to go."

"But she's hurt—"

"I don't have time to explain." Anna placed her legs beneath Elsa's legs and back and lifted her up. "I'm sorry. Your children should be fine, they're not hurt. Please," she said with another look down the street, "You mustn't tell S5PD about us."

"What?" Oaken stepped forward, confused but ready to help. "Why not? You saved our kids, and you took out the people trying to take our kids, and—"

"Say that you found your children up here, in body bags, and you don't know why there are three dead soldiers nearby." UIF personnel would probably still deduce that Anna had caused the wounds, but it would buy them some time. And time was a quickly fading commodity. Especially for Elsa. "Please. The authorities cannot know we were here."

The towering man looked at his husband before heaving a huge sigh. "Anything for you," Oaken said finally, placing his hands on her shoulders and glancing at Elsa's prone form cradled within her grasp. "We're in your debt. If you need anything else, anything at all—"

"I'll keep it in mind. But we really have to go."

He nodded.

Anna took off running in the direction of their hotel, leaping over rooftops, clutching Elsa tightly the whole way. Behind her, the sirens grew louder, then faded as she closed in on their hotel.

Injuries had a way of making things surgical and analytical for her, in spite of the occasional blackout diluting her train of thought. For a while all she could feel was blood trickling out of her wounds and onto the hands Anna held her with. Then the rush of air and minor lurches every time Anna jumped. Jumped? Anna was escaping with her; the sounds of sirens hadn't escaped her back on the roof. Roof. We're jumping from building to building. Where are we headed? The hotel? It has to be. We have not other place yet.

Both the pain and her lack of vision hindered Elsa's ability to decipher how exactly Anna managed to evade the authorities, but before she knew it she had blacked out again, waking to the familiar service corridors of their hideout hotel, and Anna's panting as she ascended the seemingly never-ending flights of stairs. The next thing she felt were cool cushions beneath her clammy skin, her weight pressed into the soft fabric. Hands roamed her body in a frenzy, little jabs of pain her and there as they went about their way.

Faraway voices seemed to be calling out to her, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. It was worrying; Elsa had spent her life reliant on hearing as an indicator of events surrounding her, or events that were imminent. Somehow she couldn't muster the strength to prepare herself. She was too groggy, and too confused. She didn't know what was going on—

When she came to, she was lying in a bed in their hotel suite.

She recognized it by its surroundings. She tried to blink away the exhaustion from here eyes, but to no avail. Then she remembered everything, and all the pain came flooding back. The little excursion out of the hotel, the trip to the store, the skirmish she had with three black-armoured soldiers. Moles, or unwilling pawns.

Elsa breathed. It hurt. She tried to move her arms. It hurt. She tried to move her legs and got the same stimuli. She heaved a sigh of resignation and tried to settle back into the bed, which also hurt. It was annoying. Pain was an old friend, but a discomfort was a discomfort. Time she spent out of the fight, which was time she could not afford anymore.

At least she could turn her head without feeling too much pain—

Anna sat beside her bed, her head upon her forearms as she slept.

And it that moment Elsa could feel her heart rip in two. She didn't know why this moment in particular; there were plenty of other moments Anna had shown her far more concern that she could ever deserve, but right now she couldn't stop herself from sobbing. She tried to keep it down, tried not to awaken Anna, but before she knew it the figure next to her was stirring, and Anna was upon her in a flash. "Does it hurt?" Anna asked frantically, looking Elsa up and down, taking her into her arms. "Did I fuck up when I was treating your wounds? Did I sew a stitch wrongly or something? Oh god, I don't think I have painkillers—"

"Thank you."

Anna stopped mid-sentence and looked straight at Elsa. "I – I mean, yeah, no worries—"

"Thank you for still caring."

She watched Anna's face shift from confusion to recognition, then back into the blend of sadness and concern. "Of course I still care," Anna replied, cradling Elsa's face between her hands, her own eyes beginning to brim. "How could I not?"

"We both know very well that you very much could."

"Not after everything we've been through." A hand stroked her hair and caressed her scalp. "I can't let you go." She could hear Anna's voice quiver. "Not again. But how could you be so reckless? Do you know how worried I was? Merida was losing her shit when we came back, and I—" A sob, and Anna's voice dropped to a whisper. "I was so, so scared."

"I was scared too. I've been so scared for a long time." Elsa swallowed. "I thought I'd lost you forever. I thought you wouldn't care about me ever again."

"The shopkeeper from the place we were at," Anna said, "said that starting a family was something he was so happy that he was wrong about. And it got me thinking about us. I was wrong to doubt you, Elsa. To blame you. And to forgive you would be something that would make me happy. Make us happy."

Now Elsa couldn't stop the tears from streaking down her face anymore. "I don't want you to leave," she managed, her voice a hoarse whisper.

"I'm never leaving you," Anna finished as she leaned in. "I promise."

When their lips met, it was with everything they couldn't say to each other in person. It was the warmth they had denied each other for too long. It was everything Elsa could have ever hoped for and more, all over again. She couldn't help but moan as Anna kissed her harder, no doubt just as eager, just as needy. Every brush of their lips felt like a blissful eternity, a jolt of ecstasy that erased the pain from Elsa's mind just as it did her body.

Finally they broke their lip-lock, gasping for air, gaze locked, Elsa's heart racing, no longer as burdened as it had been just a few days ago, her body significantly less strained in some ways and more so in others. "I . . . uhm." She sucked in a breath and blinked back tears. "Yeah."

"Yeah," Anna recovered herself, her lips curling upwards. "That was, uh—"

"Overdue?"

"Way overdue."

Her laughter was the most amazing sound Elsa had ever heard, and she was overjoyed to hear it once again. No more barriers, and much less pain between them. For now, for however long they had left, there was just them. Together. Like it should have been all this time.

Happy holidays.