"A proposal?" Rox tilted her head, arms folding across her chest as she regarded Jill with thinly veiled impatience.
Her tone carried a hint of sarcasm, but beneath it was weariness—the kind that came from a lifetime of being offered deals that always led to chains.
"I'm sorry, but I've had enough of proposals and contracts. One's already too many."
She raised a palm casually, as if swatting away the idea itself.
"No, no, no—this one's different," Jill said quickly, her voice cutting through the faint hum of nearby engines.
She reached into a pouch at her side and tossed a small, sealed parchment toward Rox.
The metal casing around the scroll glinted faintly under the lantern light as it spun through the air.
"Completely different from whatever you've got going on with your commander."
Rox caught it effortlessly, twisting the metal seal open with a flick of her thumb.
The casing hissed faintly, unlocking the scroll.
Her eyes scanned the writing quickly, her helmet's visor reflecting each line as she read aloud in a quiet voice.
"Highly guarded bunker… hidden in the system Zikarenia… Black Door Territory… code red prisoners…"
Her eyes lifted slowly to meet Jill's.
"You're kidding me if you're asking me to work for you. I'm already working for someone else."
She raised her left hand, palm open, the faint red glow of her soul-mark pulsing gently against the bluish haze.
"I'm already soul bound."
"Hah! Typical of Gelhyne," Jill scoffed, crossing her arms as her tone shifted from confident to irritated.
"She's always been that way—control freak to the core. Anything she gets her hands on, she owns completely."
She let out a sigh, brushing her fingers through her violet hair before focusing back on Rox.
"Look," she continued, lifting her hands and making air quotes as she spoke,
"this isn't some contract or binding deal. We're 'formally' asking Gelhyne to let us borrow you for one mission—a rescue op. There's a highly recognized individual from the Black Glenn who got captured by the Black Door. Trust me, this'll benefit Gelhyne too."
Rox tilted her head, one brow raising. "Wait, why me of all people? I'm sure there are others who'd be more than happy to work with you."
"That's because you've got a top-of-the-line stealth ship, duh?" Jill replied, sounding half incredulous, half smug, as if Rox had missed something obvious.
"We've been watching you since the day word spread that Gelhyne had captured you."
She stepped closer, her boots scraping lightly against the scorched ground beneath them.
The soldiers in the background murmured faintly, some pretending not to listen as the two women faced off amid the fading smoke.
Jill's violet eyes glinted faintly as she leaned in.
"And trust me," she said in a quieter, firmer tone, "you don't want to get any closer to her. Once you finish a contract with Gelhyne—you run. No goodbyes, no second chances, just disappear."
Rox said nothing, her gaze steady but sharp.
"Unless," Jill added, raising a brow as she straightened back up, "you'd rather spend the rest of your life under her thumb. In that case—be my guest."
The nearby engines growled faintly, the wind carrying the lingering scent of gunfire and ash.
"If you do us this favor—if you take this gig—you'll earn the respect of thousands," Jill said, her tone dropping lower, almost like she was sharing a secret.
"Mercenaries, overlords, even the Underhand themselves will know your name."
She stepped closer, her voice steady but persuasive, and placed a hand on Rox's shoulder.
"You'll be able to travel through the galaxies without fear, knowing that the mercs and the wraiths of the Underhand have your back. You'll have true freedom."
The words hung in the air like smoke—tempting, dangerous, and heavy.
The battlefield had fallen silent save for the faint hum of cooling engines and the distant, eerie whisper of the mist.
Rox stood there, unmoving, the glow of her visor flickering as she processed the offer.
For a few seconds, there was nothing but quiet.
Jill waited, confident and calm, her violet eyes gleaming in the half-light.
Rox, meanwhile, stood perfectly still, lost in thought.
Freedom.
That word pierced deep.
It was all she ever wanted—to live without chains, without orders, without someone breathing down her neck, dictating her purpose.
It was the reason she fled the Corvi Empire—their iron grip, their endless control, the way they shaped her life like she was property.
And yet… deep down, she knew Gelhyne wasn't the same.
Controlling, yes—but not cruel.
Gelhyne had her reasons, and though she bound Rox's soul, she didn't crush it.
There was something deliberate, calculated—but almost protective—in her control.
Rox couldn't deny that.
*sigh…
She sighed softly, lowering her head as her mind swirled between the two sides—the tempting freedom Jill offered and the faint sense of purpose Gelhyne gave her—plus, a chance to gain the protection of the Red Fleet.
Finally, she opened her mouth, ready to speak.
Before she could say a word—
"And who are you to meddle with what belongs to me?"
The voice was cold, sharp, and unmistakably familiar.
It came from behind Rox, echoing through the mist like the first crack of a thunderstorm.
Rox froze, then slowly turned her head.
Gelhyne was there—her cloak trailing behind her, several spies flanking her sides like silent shadows.
The expression she wore was a mixture of fury and restrained composure, her eyes locked on Jill with unmistakable venom.
"Commander, you shouldn't be here, you're risking yourself—" one of the spies started, but Gelhyne cut them off with a glare so sharp it silenced them instantly.
She stomped forward, her boots crunching against the scorched ground, and without hesitation, yanked Rox toward her, pulling her firmly away from Jill's reach.
The force of it nearly made Rox stumble, and she blinked beneath her visor, half startled.
Gelhyne's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"You truly are a despicable person, Jill Valentine. Did your mother never teach you not to touch what belongs to others?"
Jill's eyes narrowed, her brow twitching as her expression hardened.
"Well, well, well—speak of the devil," she said dryly, crossing her arms.
Her smirk returned, though it carried more irritation than amusement now.
She turned her gaze toward Rox, ignoring Gelhyne's glare.
"So, Rox the Corvi—what's your answer?"
Before Rox could even part her lips, Gelhyne's hand clamped around her arm again, pulling her closer.
"Enough," Gelhyne said, her voice low but commanding.
"Come. You're wasting your time on this Underhand welp."
"Could you at least let me deci—"
*SHRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!
Rox started, only for her words to be sliced apart by a distant, piercing shriek that tore through the air.
It was high-pitched and otherworldly—the kind of sound that clawed at the soul and made the air vibrate.
Rox's eyes widened beneath her visor.
"Shit!" she cursed, spinning toward the sound.
"They haven't disposed of it!?"
The banshee's corpse, once still and lifeless, was now collapsing inward—its flesh bubbling and warping into a swirling mass of pulsing, tar-like matter.
The black substance trembled violently, expanding, splitting apart.
"Prepare yourselves!" Rox shouted, drawing both blasters from her sides in a single motion.
The weapons hummed to life, the cores glowing a bright cyan.
She stepped forward, raising her weapons toward the growing distortion.
"The horde's coming!"