First-Person POV

Icarus lounged in her newly remodeled Thunderbird, her boots propped up on the edge of the dashboard as the soft hum of the ship filled the cockpit. The interior was dimly lit by the soft glow of her HUD panels, flickering with system updates and status checks. She leaned back in her seat, tapping her fingers rhythmically on the armrest, humming a tune to herself. With every beat, she swayed side to side, her lighthearted mood a stark contrast to the chaos outside the safety of her bird.

With a lazy grin, she reached over and picked up her flight helmet. The sleek black and crimson design caught the cockpit light, and she twirled it in her hands for a moment. Then, on a whim, she placed it on her head, the familiar hiss of the pressure seal locking into place filling her ears.

"Let's see what you're up to, Elfy," she murmured, her voice slightly distorted through the comms.

With a few deft keystrokes on her console, she sent an encrypted HUD share request. She knew he'd see it. Knew he'd accept it. That was his way. No matter how focused or chaotic the situation, he always acknowledged her.

The panel on her HUD blinked, a series of encrypted codes dancing across her visor as her request transmitted. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the familiar green acknowledgment pinged in the top corner of her screen, and her grin widened.

"Knew it," she said smugly, sitting up straighter in her seat.

Her HUD began to populate with a live feed, the blackness replaced with a first-person perspective. The screen flickered and hissed with static at first, the interference creating a sharp screech in her ears. Icarus winced and yanked her helmet off, muttering a string of curses as the static continued to fill the cockpit.

"Come on, come on, don't fail me now," she said, glaring at her helmet as the static faded.

When the screen finally stabilized, she quickly placed the helmet back on, and her heart skipped a beat. The feed burst into life with the muzzle flashes of a MK99 cutting through the darkness, illuminating a hellish battlefield. The perspective swayed methodically, each shot fired with mechanical precision, cutting down Extractants left and right. The heavy thud of his boots hitting debris-filled ground accompanied the rhythmic, deafening bark of the weapon.

The chaotic scene unfolded like a live-action nightmare: grotesque Extractants lunging from the shadows, only to be met with unrelenting firepower. Icarus watched in awe as his weapon shifted angles, perfectly countering each new threat. The occasional rev of his chainsword punctuated the carnage, the blade cleaving through the creatures with ease when they got too close.

Her pulse quickened as she leaned closer to her HUD. "That's my Elfy," she whispered, her voice tinged with both pride and excitement.

The camera angle shifted, showing the brutal efficiency of his movements. He sidestepped a charging Extractant, his armored form spinning smoothly as he slammed the butt of his weapon into its skull before delivering a final shot. The screen lit up again with the rapid fire of his MK99, the recoil absorbed effortlessly by his imposing figure.

"Goddamn," Icarus breathed, a wide grin spreading across her face. Her fingers drummed against her armrest, the adrenaline building as she watched the live feed.

The perspective suddenly jerked upward, the barrel of the MK99 firing at an aerial Extractant diving toward him. The creature disintegrated in midair, its remains splattering against the ground in a fiery, acidic mess. The camera adjusted instantly, scanning the surroundings for the next threat.

"You make it look so easy," Icarus muttered, the admiration evident in her tone. She felt the thrill of the battle vicariously through his feed, her own heart pounding as if she were right there alongside him.

For a moment, the camera paused, swiveling slightly as if SABER-1 was scanning the field for something. Then, the static-laden comms crackled, and his deep, familiar voice cut through her HUD.

"Eyes on, Icarus?" he asked, his tone as calm and commanding as ever.

Her grin turned into an all-out smile as she responded. "Always, Elfy. Always."

Icarus leaned back in her pilot's chair, her helmet snugly on as she watched the feed through her HUD. The battlefield was alive with chaos, but her eyes were glued to one figure moving with precise, calculated lethality. SABER-1 cut through the Extractant swarm with an efficiency that was equal parts awe-inspiring and terrifying. Each motion was deliberate, every shot purposeful.

She grinned like a kid at a carnival, her voice bubbling with excitement. "Look at you, Elfy! Damn, you're making this look easy!" she cheered, practically bouncing in her seat as the screen lit up with another explosion.

He moved swiftly through the nest, dropping empty resupply pods like breadcrumbs. Each one detonated with a fiery burst, flames consuming the grotesque hive structures and the Extractants emerging from them. He wasn't waiting for airstrikes or reinforcements—he was the airstrike.

Back in the Headshed, Icarus knew the brass were probably losing their minds over his unconventional tactics. But here she was, openly cheering him on, her voice ringing through their private comms like a commentator at a sports event.

"Boom! That's right! Another hive down!" she exclaimed, leaning closer to her console. "You're on fire—literally and figuratively! Oh man, they have to be scrambling now, trying to figure out where you're gonna hit next."

On the other end, SABER-1 didn't respond immediately, but she could sense his focus. His movements never faltered, never slowed, and she couldn't help but marvel at how unstoppable he seemed.

And then a thought crept in, sobering her enthusiasm. Her grin faded slightly as she realized something: this wasn't a spectator sport. This was a live battle. A real war. And here she was, acting like a child watching their favorite hero save the day.

Her chest tightened with guilt. "Ah... I'm sorry, Elfy," she said suddenly, her tone more subdued. "I'm gonna disconnect now. I don't want to be a distraction."

There was a pause on the other end, his movements still flawless as he methodically tore through another wave of Extractants. Then his deep voice cut through the static, calm and steady. "Why?"

She blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... well, I just... I don't want to interrupt your focus. This is serious, and I'm over here acting like a... like a—"

"You're fine," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Stay."

Her heart fluttered slightly at the simple reassurance, but her thoughts were still split. Was it really okay for her to stay connected? Before she could decide, his next words broke through her hesitation.

"I guess this is too much for a pilot, huh?"

The jab was subtle, delivered in his usual monotone, but it hit a nerve. Her eyes narrowed, and her chest puffed out in indignation. "Oh, really? You think this is too much for me? You wish I was just a pilot. If I were down there, you wouldn't even need to fire a shot. I'd clean this up faster than you could say 'extraction complete.'"

There was a slight pause before his reply. "You probably would."

She froze for a moment, stunned by the unexpected admission, before a giggle bubbled out of her. "You're lucky I'm stuck up here, Elfy. Otherwise, you'd have some real competition."

"Noted," he replied simply, the faintest trace of amusement slipping through his otherwise stoic tone.

She couldn't stop smiling, her earlier guilt evaporating as she watched him move across the battlefield with the same deadly grace. "Fine, I'll stay," she said, leaning back again, her voice lighter now. "But don't think for a second that I'm not keeping score. When we're both off-duty, I'll show you how it's really done."

"I'll hold you to that," he said, his calm voice cutting through the roar of his MK99.

She grinned wider, her heart racing not from the chaos on the screen, but from the simple, undeniable fact: he wanted her there.

"So hey, Elfy… about that score," Icarus began, her voice laced with nervous laughter as she leaned back in her pilot's seat. Her hand cracked her helmet seal just enough to scratch at her chin, her eyes darting to the kill counter she'd linked to his HUD feed. The numbers were climbing rapidly—triple digits now. She was impressed, though she'd never admit it out loud.

"Negative," he replied, his tone as unyielding and stoic as ever. "I laid the crumbs, and you picked them up."

"Ehehehe… I don't recall," she chuckled, trying to sound casual despite the creeping blush she felt under her helmet.

"That so?" His reply came quicker this time, his tone as smooth and cutting as a blade. "Maybe all that time in the ship rattled your memory loose."

Her jaw tightened as she bit her lip, determined not to take the bait. Not this time, Icarus. Stay cool, she told herself.

And then came the next jab, sharp and deliberate. "Then again, if I knew I was losing, I'd probably say the same thing. Granted… I wouldn't know. I've never lost."

Her fingers tightened on the flight sticks as she grit her teeth. She could feel the smug smirk he was no doubt wearing, even if his voice betrayed nothing. It wasn't fair—he knew exactly how to push her buttons, and, damn it, he was good at it.

"Listen here, you oversized tin can," she snapped, leaning forward, her fiery temper finally breaking through. "I could easily beat you. Triple digits? Pfft, child's play. I could double—no, triple—your kill count whenever I wanted! You just wait—next mission, I'll show you exactly what I can do!"

"We'll see," he replied calmly, his tone carrying just the faintest hint of amusement.

The simplicity of his answer hit harder than any of his jabs. She slumped back into her seat, groaning audibly. "Oh, for crying out loud," she muttered to herself. "He did it again. He baited me. Just like a damn fish."

Her helmet hid the way she pressed her hands to her face, muffling her frustration. After a moment, though, she couldn't help but laugh softly. Even though he drove her absolutely insane sometimes, she wouldn't trade this dynamic for anything.

"You win this round, Elfy," she said aloud, a smirk tugging at her lips. "But next time? I'm getting the last word."

"I'll hold you to that," he replied, his calm voice cutting through the crackle of static, and she could swear she heard a hint of a chuckle.