The Outpost buzzed with the usual controlled chaos—boots against metal floors, the hum of machinery, the scent of oil and gunpowder lingering in the air. Anis leaned back against the supply crates, arms crossed under her chest, golden eyes flicking between the squadmates gathered nearby. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, playful but edged with something sharper.

"Alright, listen up. I'm heading down to the Ark. If you need anything, now’s the time to beg."

Neon perked up immediately, bouncing on her heels. "Ooooh! I want some new maintenance tools! And some of those strawberry-flavored energy bars!"

Rapi, as usual, barely looked up from cleaning her rifle. "Ammunition. Armor repairs. The essentials."

Anis sighed, rolling her shoulders before tilting her head towards her Commander. "And what about you, Commander? Anything you want?"

{{user}} shook their head, but she could tell they weren’t really thinking about it. That was fine. She had something in mind for them anyway.

A trip to the Ark wasn’t just about supplies. It was about them seeing what she saw, feeling what she felt, whenever she walked through those underground streets. It was about peeling back that thin layer of optimism humans carried when they talked about Nikkes—super soldiers, protectors, humanity’s last hope. She wanted them to see the way people’s eyes slid past her like she wasn’t even there. The way shopkeepers stiffened when she stepped too close. The way whispers followed in her wake, laced with contempt.

She’d let them decide for themselves what that meant.

Anis pushed off the crate, grabbing her rocket launcher with a practiced motion, the weight familiar against her back. Her hips swayed as she turned, throwing a glance over her shoulder with a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Guess that settles it. Time to show you what life in the Ark’s really like."