Crimson Vows Beneath the Snow

Sunset spilled through the open balcony, casting long, honeyed shadows across the polished wooden floor. The breeze of early spring whispered through the lace curtains, making them dance like drifting memories. And there—framed by the glowing sky—stood the woman he loved.

Her back was to him, long hair fluttering in the wind like silk threads unraveling from fate itself. The delicate fabric of her white dress clung to her frame, swaying gently as if swayed by her hesitation. Emilia Kaede.

The name echoed in his mind like a prayer. Like a promise. She wasn't just someone he loved. She was his anchor in a world always at war. She was his future—the only peace he ever believed in.

Reiji Arata knelt before her, his breath caught somewhere between his lungs and soul. The weight of the world had never felt heavier—nor more worth bearing—than in that moment.

The sun had begun to dip behind the clouds, casting a golden hue across the room as if the universe itself paused to listen.

In his trembling hand was a ring, modest in size but forged from every heartbeat he'd ever carried for her. His voice, when it finally came, was raw—not from weakness, but from the truth it carried.

"There's so much darkness in this world... too much I can't fix. But when I look at you... I believe again. I believe something beautiful can still survive it all." He swallowed hard, meeting her gaze like a man laying his soul bare. "I may never be enough for someone like you... but if you'll let me, I'll spend the rest of my life trying. Emilia Kaede..." He drew in a breath, voice trembling now—soft, reverent, terrified. "Will you walk into the unknown with me? Will you be the light I protect, until my last breath?"

She turned—slowly—like a petal caught in the wind. Her eyes found his, wide and glistening, as if holding back an ocean of feeling. She covered her mouth, as though afraid any sound might shatter the moment.

And then, she nodded. Not grand or dramatic—but small, delicate, and deeply sincere. A nod that made the entire world exhale.

"You idiot..." she whispered, voice cracking under the weight of tears. She knelt to meet him. "You already are enough. You always were." A trembling smile curved her lips, and a tear slid down her cheek. "Yes, Reiji... I will. In every life, I will."

And as he slipped the ring onto her finger, the sky outside seemed to burn with gold. The world beyond their balcony could fall to ruin—but in that moment, they had everything.

---

That night, the world belonged only to them.

Beyond the windows, the moon hung like a silent witness, casting silver light across the room as if to honor what was unfolding within it. The lace curtains swayed gently, whispering secrets only the wind could carry.

The sheets were a mess of warmth and breath—tangled around limbs, around whispered promises, around a love that needed no words.

Reiji held her as if she were something fleeting—something divine that fate might snatch away if he loosened his grip. His hands moved tenderly across her skin, memorizing every curve, every quiet sigh. With each kiss he pressed against her shoulder, her cheek, her lips—it was not passion alone, but yearning. As if his soul were trying to imprint her into every fiber of his being.

"Emilia..." he breathed, his voice hoarse from everything he couldn't say.

She touched his face, eyes glassy in the moonlight. "I'm here," she whispered, brushing a hand through his hair. "Even if the world forgets us... remember this."

He nodded against her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "If this night is all we're given... then I'll spend forever reliving it."

They moved like a slow, sacred dance—fingers interlaced, breaths mingling, hearts beating in unison. There was no past, no future. Only the now. Only the softness of her voice when she said his name, only the way he trembled when she touched his heart with a look.

When they finally lay still, the quiet between them was thick with meaning.

She rested her head against his chest, listening to the thrum of his heartbeat. "Promise me something, Reiji."

He turned slightly, brushing her hair from her face. "Anything."

"No matter what happens... no matter how far we're thrown apart—promise you'll fight your way back to me."

voice fragile as mist, barely rising above the hush of the night.

Reiji tightened his hold on her, as if afraid that if he let go, even for a second, she might vanish into the moonlight.

"I love you," he murmured, lips grazing her bare shoulder. "More than life. More than the air I breathe. You are my beginning… and my end."

Emilia's breath caught in her throat. She reached for his hand, threading their fingers together, her touch trembling but sure.

"I don't want to forget this," she said, a quiver laced in her voice. "Even if the sky falls… even if tomorrow steals everything from us—remember this warmth. Remember me like this."

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes shining with emotion too deep for words. He cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to the edges of her lashes.

"I promise you, Emilia," he said, the words etched with fierce devotion. "No matter what happens… no matter how lost I become, I'll find my way back to you. I'll come back—to you. Always."

Her lips curved into a soft smile—one that shimmered with sadness, love, and something close to eternity.

"I believe you," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Even if the stars forget our names… I believe you."

And in the stillness that followed, with the moonlight cloaking them like a vow, Reiji held her closer—listening to the quiet music of her heartbeat and wishing the night would never end.

He kissed her forehead, his lips trembling.

"I swear it," he said. "Even if the whole world burns... I'll find my way back to you."

Outside, the night deepened. But inside that room, time had stopped—held still by a love that refused to be forgotten.

---

SNAP.

Reality punched back through the veil of memory with a burst of static and frost.

The roar of the open aircraft ramp swallowed everything. Wind tore past Reiji Arata as he stood at the edge, parachute secured to his back, black ops gear pressed tight against his frame. Below him stretched a frozen wasteland—white, silent, and deadly.

"Arata, do you read?" a sharp voice crackled through the comms—Agent Halvorsen, Intel Command, voice clipped and urgent. "Thermal confirms multiple heat signatures southeast of Sector Seven. You're walking into a nest. Be advised—the objective is mobile."

Reiji's jaw clenched. "Mobile?"

"It's not just a suspicious object—it's a nuclear payload. Launch-ready. We believe the mastermind is on-site."

A beat of silence. Reiji's gloved hand tightened on the metal edge.

"Understood," he said, his voice low, controlled—lethal.

He stepped off the ramp and vanished into the snowstorm below.

---

The snow swallowed him whole.

Reiji hit the ground in a fluid roll, rifle up before his boots fully met the frozen earth. No sound. No hesitation. Just muscle memory and mission focus.

The landscape stretched before him—bleak and merciless. Ice-covered trees twisted like skeletal hands reaching skyward. Every breath steamed in the cold, vanishing fast.

One by one, his squad dropped in—shadows against snow, silent as death.

"Delta Team," Reiji murmured over the encrypted comm, eyes scanning the treeline. "Fan out. Sweep Sector Seven-Echo. No footprints, no noise. Confirm targets before engaging."

"Copy," came the responses, tight and clipped.

They disappeared into the white, weapons drawn—phantoms on a chessboard, and Reiji was already three moves ahead.

Reiji advanced like a wraith, his movements honed to surgical stillness. Each step melted into the snow without a sound. The cold bit at his jawline, but his pulse remained steady—this was the kind of silence he'd trained for. The kind where lives changed in seconds.

A flicker.

One lone sentry.

Barely more than a kid—rifle slung too loose, stance too relaxed. Green. Unready.

Reiji moved like vapor—there, then gone. The guard didn't see it coming. One step too close to the treeline and Reiji pounced, hand clamped over the mouth, blade whispering against the man's throat as they disappeared into the dark snowdrift.

"No sudden moves," Reiji breathed against his ear, voice low and lethal. "Where's the vault?"

The man squirmed, muffled panic vibrating in his throat.

Reiji tightened his grip. "Answer me."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," the guard hissed back in broken English, fear laced with defiance. "There's no vault. Just supplies. I'm not authorized—"

Wrong answer.

Reiji pulled him lower, slipping a thin stiletto blade against the seam of the man's vest—right over the heart. His voice dropped into ice.

"You're lying. Your pupils dilated when I said 'vault.' That's adrenaline. Not confusion. I'll ask one more time."

He twisted the blade just enough to breach skin.

A gasp. Then trembling.

"O-Okay—northwest side, under the ice trench. Second level, past the fuel tanks. There's a code panel… Red light sensor on the door."

Reiji's expression didn't change. "Thank you."

A quiet snap of the carotid hold.

The guard slumped, eyes frozen in shock.

Reiji pulled the body deeper into the snowbank, shoveling ice with practiced hands until not even a boot tip showed. Covered. Erased.

One breath. One heartbeat.

Then he was gone again—just another shadow in a war no one would see coming.

---

Like wolves in a storm, the team circled the compound. Every footfall was silent, every breath controlled. The enemy was unaware, shadows slipping past their guard. One by one, targets fell—quick, precise, lethal. Blood briefly stained the pristine snow before it vanished under layers of white.

"Feels like old times, doesn't it?" Daisuke's voice crackled through Reiji's earpiece, low but steady. His best friend. The one who'd been through every nightmare with him since training.

Reiji's reply was a simple grunt—a nod of acknowledgment. Words were unnecessary now. Not in the thick of it.

Suddenly, the comms buzzed with urgency.

"Arata, urgent intel," Halvorsen's voice sliced through the static. "It's worse than we thought. The bomb is live. Launch timer's been triggered. Countdown is at three minutes. Repeat, three minutes."

A jolt of cold tightened Reiji's chest. No time for hesitation. He snapped his orders.

"Daisuke, we're going in. Now."

"Roger that," Daisuke responded without missing a beat.

The squad spread out, each member taking a strategic position to cover the perimeter. They were ghosts in this ghost town—silent, deadly, unseen.

Inside the compound, the air was heavy with tension. Steel corridors twisted like a maze. The dim red lights painted everything in shades of urgency, and the low hum of the facility was the only sound—aside from the steady footfalls of Reiji's team.

No alarms. Not yet. But every second felt like an eternity.

The final chamber loomed ahead. The vault was solid, reinforced with heavy steel and concrete. The timer ticked louder in Reiji's mind.

Reiji moved to the control panel, fingers working like a machine. His mind was clear, focused on the task at hand. Daisuke stood guard, weapon raised, scanning every angle with military precision.

"Cover me," Reiji murmured under his breath as he connected to the system. His hands flew over the panel, bypassing security protocols with a smoothness born of years in the field.

"Copy that," Daisuke's voice was steady, alert. His eyes never left the shadows, watching for any sign of movement. He knew what was at stake. They both did.

The lock on the vault finally disengaged with a soft click. The door shuddered open, revealing the object of their mission.

"Bomb's in there," Reiji said, voice clipped, but there was no fear in it. Just resolve. "We need to move fast."

Daisuke stepped forward, scanning the room for any more surprises. "I've got your back, as always."

And then, they were in.

A massive nuclear warhead sat in the center of the room, its timer ticking steadily—02:32 and counting down.

Beside it, standing like a dark god of destruction, was Dr. Ivan Volkov—renegade physicist, mastermind behind the weapon. His sharp eyes flicked up, sensing their approach.

"You're too late," he snarled, his voice cold, drenched in malice, as his fingers tightened around the grip of his automatic rifle.

BANG.

The sound shattered the silence. Gunfire erupted in a furious storm, bullets ripping through the air, tearing into the steel of the warehouse.

Reiji and Daisuke reacted instinctively, diving behind nearby crates. The air smelled of gunpowder and ozone. Steel buckled under the barrage, ricochets slicing through the chaos.

"We need to close the distance," Daisuke growled, his eyes scanning the room, calculating.

Reiji didn't reply. His gaze was already darting, picking out possible angles. His thumb tapped the side of his helmet twice—silent orders.

They split—left, right—ghosts in motion, blending with the shadows. The world felt like it slowed down as Reiji took a split-second to assess the environment.

He reached into his vest, pulling out a smoke grenade with deliberate precision. He lobbed it high, the green canister spinning through the air, releasing a cloud of thick, obscuring smoke.

The room was now a battlefield in fog.

Daisuke opened fire, suppressing Volkov's position, his shots precise, controlled. The sounds of bullets tearing through air and steel rang out like a drumbeat.

Reiji moved low, his body skimming the cold floor, eyes locked on the target. He slid across the slick surface, his movements fluid, like a panther hunting its prey.

Click. The smooth motion of his gun's safety being disengaged was the only sound as he crept into position.

Volkov had just enough time to realize the threat—just enough.

One shot.

Reiji's hand was steady, the trigger pulled with practiced speed. The bullet tore through the fog, through the chaos, a single clean shot.

BANG.

Volkov's rifle fell from his hands, clattering to the floor like a lifeless thing. His body followed soon after, crumpling to the ground, a final breath caught between life and death.

Reiji stood over him, breath steady, eyes never leaving the lifeless body.

They reached the console. 00:45 on the countdown.

Daisuke moved in, his fingers flying across the keys with frantic precision, sweat dotting his brow. His breath was sharp, quick—every second mattered now.

"Arata, status?" Halvorsen's voice crackled through the comms, distant but urgent.

"Target neutralized," Reiji responded, eyes never leaving Daisuke's concentrated face. "Bomb's about to be disarmed."

The faint sound of a click—the bomb was almost disabled.

And then—the sound no soldier wants to hear.

A cold, metallic click of a gun being cocked.

Daisuke didn't hear it—he couldn't. But Reiji did. His instincts screamed.

He turned, just in time.

Behind Daisuke—Volkov, staggering, blood soaking his coat—held a gun aimed at Daisuke's back. His hands shook, but his eyes burned with fury.

Reiji's mind moved faster than his body—everything seemed to slow down.

"Dai—!" He shouted, but it was too late.

A shot rang out, deafening in the confined space. The sound of it was thunder, rattling his bones.

Blood sprayed in a crimson arc. Daisuke's body jerked—his face twisted in shock.

Reiji's body was already in motion. He lunged, instinct guiding him, diving to shield Daisuke from the second shot, pushing him out of harm's way.

But it was too late.

BANG.

The world turned red.

Reiji felt the cold metal of the floor beneath him as he collapsed, his weight crushing down onto Daisuke's trembling form. The terminal behind them beeped—a final, ominous sound.

Bomb disabled.

But it didn't matter.

Daisuke's eyes—wide with disbelief—locked onto Reiji. Time seemed to stop.

"REIJI!!" His voice was raw, breaking with panic.

He caught him, holding him tight as though he could somehow force the life back into his friend, into his brother-in-arms.

But Volkov—bloodied, staggering—was already retreating, his form disappearing into the smoke. The sound of his footfalls fading as quickly as his presence.

Daisuke's hand tightened on his weapon, rage flooding him. He fired blindly, the gunshots loud and wild in his ears, but Volkov was already gone.

Outside, the wind howled, and the snow began to fall harder, a cold veil across a shattered world.

The first soldier ran in, his boots thundering across the room, kneeling beside them.

"MEDIC! MEDIC!" he screamed.

But it was already too late.

Crimson spread beneath Reiji like ink on a page, staining the floor.

Daisuke couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He just—held on.

"You kept your promise..." Daisuke choked out, tears mixing with the blood on his hands. "You came back... but why like this..."

Reiji's lips parted, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth—a gesture that might have been reassuring, had it not been so broken. His eyes were losing their light, glazing over, but his hand still moved, trembling, reaching toward Daisuke.

"Tell Emilia..." Reiji whispered, his voice barely a breath, fragile like glass. "I..."

His voice cracked, faltered—just like his heart.

And then, as if the world itself mourned, his hand loosened.

The silver ring—the one he had promised—slipped from his fingers, falling to the floor with a soft, tragic thud.

It rolled once. Twice. And came to a stop, nestled in the snow outside.

Stained red. .

Flashback.

A quiet room bathed in silver moonlight. The gentle hum of city life filtered through the curtains. Time felt still.

Reiji lay on the bed, his arms wrapped around Emilia's sleeping form. Her breathing was soft, her warmth pressed close to his chest—like a heartbeat he never wanted to lose.

He watched her for a moment, memorizing the curve of her lips, the way her fingers curled slightly as she slept. As if clinging to a dream.

His voice broke the silence, low and tender.

"No matter what happens..." he whispered, brushing his lips against her temple, his throat tight. "I'll come back to you. Even if it costs me everything."

She stirred faintly, a small smile forming in her sleep, unaware of the promise he was etching into the night.

The promise he couldn't keep.

--

And then—darkness.