Expedition

{09/09/2024}

"Snow, huh?"

There were many things I had grown oddly attached to in life, and winter sat at the top of the list.

It wasn't just the season—it was the perfect culmination of cold air biting at your face, snowflakes tumbling in lazy spirals, and the cherry-red patches blooming on fair skin as breaths crystallized in the air. These were moments I wished my mind could process more deeply.

But this winter wasn't mine to savor. Not fully. The duration of our mission would see to that.

"Alright, gather around, people!" Blaze, our captain, called out with the energy of a morning talk show host, stretching his arms like a man who'd slept soundly for days. His bright mood contrasted with the biting cold.

Our team had met a few days earlier for a "bonding session," though it felt more like an awkward mixer. Blaze, Root, Veronique, Ace, Agate, and me—we were the core squad, along with a female medic who mostly hovered at the edges of the group, speaking little, observing much.

Medics, as I'd learned, were trained to remain detached. Their job wasn't to befriend us but to patch us up when things inevitably went south. They were administered a modified Z-fluid serum, granting them healing abilities that bordered on miraculous—a feat so far beyond my understanding it might as well have been magic.

'The doctor really outdid himself with that one,' I thought, rubbing my hands together for warmth.

I wore baggy black sweatpants and a brown sweatshirt with a neckline wide enough to make me question its fit. I'd packed light, anticipating the mission's physical demands, but even so, my bag felt cumbersome.

As I walked toward the group, my sweatshirt clung to my body, providing just enough warmth to bolster my confidence against the cold.

"Apologies for the chill, folks. Feels like we've been dropped into the North Pole itself," Blaze quipped, his breath clouding the air. "Guess we can blame the proximity to the gate!"

The team chuckled. Everyone, except me. Humor was a tricky thing for me—like a foreign language I'd never mastered. The others' laughter faded into awkward silence as they noticed my lack of reaction. I faked a laugh at Blaze's next joke, not because I found it funny but to avoid standing out.

"We've got a straightforward mission," Blaze continued, gesturing to the map in his gloved hand. "Seal the gate. Locate the teams who went in earlier. And, of course, come back alive."

The wind howled louder as he spoke, wrapping us in its icy embrace. I stepped closer, peering at the map as cold breaths clouded my vision.

Once the briefing ended, we waited by the truck as supplies were loaded. Most of the team lingered in small groups, sipping hot tea and exchanging quiet farewells with loved ones who'd come to see them off. The tear-streaked faces stirred something in me, a faint ache of nostalgia. My parents lived in Monoceros, but we weren't close. My mom would've cried herself sick if she were here; my dad and younger sister? Not so much.

"Gear up, everyone! Time to move out!"

I wrestled with my bulletproof vest, tugging at the edges in frustration. It wasn't tight—there was space to breathe—but getting it on felt like trying to wrestle a wild animal into submission.

"Need help?"

The voice was soft, almost hesitant. I turned to see Agate standing beside me, her blue hair shimmering faintly under the pale light. Her expression was calm but tinged with the faintest hint of warmth.

Agate was quiet, detached even. She rarely spoke, brushing off most attempts at conversation. Yet her abilities were terrifyingly effective, and I couldn't deny the respect she commanded in her silence.

Without waiting for a response, she adjusted the vest with precise, effortless movements. The material slid into place as if it had always belonged there.

"Thanks," I murmured, genuinely surprised by her skill.

Her nose had turned pink from the cold, and freckles dotted her cheeks, accentuating her soft features. She was slightly chubby, but her figure carried an understated elegance that even the bulky vest couldn't hide.

She smiled faintly, the corners of her pale blue eyes lighting up before she looked away, fidgeting with her gloves. I caught myself staring and quickly averted my gaze.

We walked back to the truck together. She kicked at the snow as she moved, her eyes fixed on the ground, her steps small and measured. There was a childishness to her movements that brought a smile to my face.

As we passed the gate, I glanced at my watch. The time flickered, and for a split second, the seconds ticked backward. It wasn't much, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

The drive into the gate's domain was harsh. The cold intensified to an almost unbearable degree, the snow piling up so heavily it blurred the road. It wasn't just winter here—it was something far more unforgiving.

After nearly an hour, we reached a cave entrance and decided to camp. The snowfall was too fierce to continue safely. I settled on a rock near the entrance, wrapping myself in a blanket from my bag. The rest of the team huddled around the fire, their laughter and chatter fading into background noise.

Agate joined me, hugging herself tightly. She glanced at me, then quickly looked away, her cheeks turning a shade darker.

I draped my blanket over her shoulders without thinking.

"You don't have to—what if you catch a cold?" she protested, clutching the blanket nonetheless.

"Don't worry," I lied smoothly, "my body's built for the cold."

"Liar."

She saw through me instantly, but the teasing in her voice made it worth it.

"So," I began, hesitant, "why are you always alone?"

It was a question I'd spent years answering myself. Hearing it from my own lips felt strange, but I pressed on.

"I'm not great at socializing," she admitted softly.

"Guess we're birds of a feather, then," I said with a grin, reaching out to lightly ruffle her hair.

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a shy smile. "We're flocking together, aren't we?"

For the first time in a long while, I laughed—a real laugh, not the forced kind I used to blend in. Conversation came easily after that. We exchanged quiet words, stealing glances when the other wasn't looking, a game neither of us seemed willing to acknowledge.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Blaze speaking with the medic. She pressed on his knee, her expression professional as he grinned like a schoolboy. I decided not to comment, knowing better than to get involved.

Eventually, the cold overtook us, and we settled in for the night. The storm raged outside, but for the first time since the mission began, I felt a flicker of warmth that had nothing to do with the fire.