[N/A: See any mistakes? Let me know and I'll fix them when I can.]
-/-
[Atlas Tower – Dormitories]
After taking a bath, eating, and being practically forced to sleep for three hours, Daniel is lying on one of the beds in the Atlas dormitories. The blankets cover him, though he does not sleep. He keeps his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling in silence, calm and thoughtful.
"The sacrifice is the measure of what one loves. Every hour I give to work is a way to prove that I do not fear leaving pieces of myself behind on the way, because that is how something is built to last longer than oneself."
His voice sounds low, almost relaxed, as he lifts his head slightly and looks toward the corner of the room, where Weiss is sitting, watching him closely.
She meets his gaze by crossing her arms, narrowing her eyes, and shaking her head.
"Not convinced?" he asks, surprised that his first line did not soften the guardian of the room. Luckily for him, he still has more save up.
"How about this one?" he clears his throat a little, adjusting himself on the pillow before continuing. "Effort is not a punishment, it is the way the human being leaves a mark; we were not born to rest, we were born to build something with our own hands, even if sometimes that means losing sleep…"
A quick look at Weiss is enough to confirm she is not impressed.
"No? Tough crowd… then let's try another one. Sleep calms the body, but work feeds the spirit; the one who never pushes to the limit will never know what it really means to bet his life on an ideal."
Weiss sighs, not taking her eyes off him. "You can philosophize all you want, but you are not leaving this room until you sleep enough."
"Ahh…" Daniel lets out a snort, disappointed that none of his lines managed to convince her to let him go back to the core chamber.
"You force me to bring out the heavy artillery." He pauses, preparing the tone with a certain solemnity. "Destiny is something curious. You never know how things are going to turn out. But if you work hard and never give up, things always turn out."
Weiss rests one arm on the armrest of the chair and her other hand on her cheek. A slight smile appears on her face, though she keeps watching him firmly.
"That one you definitely did not invent. Who did you steal it from?"
"Tsk." Daniel clicks his tongue. "I was hoping you would not notice… I took it from Uncle Iroh."
She looks at him with some surprise. "You have an uncle?" Her tone sounds genuinely curious.
Daniel shakes his head. "I don't. That is what everyone called him."
Slap. The sound of Weiss hitting her forehead with her palm echoes in the room. Daniel barely manages to hold back a low laugh, unable to hide the pleasure he gets from seeing her lose patience.
"I see that one does not convince you either. Let's try this other one… It's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me."
As soon as he finishes, he fixes his eyes on her, expectant.
Weiss sighs again, giving in to his persistence. "Something tells me I should not ask… but fine, who said it?"
A smile appears on Daniel's face, this time more marked. "A man who likes to go out at night dressed in leather, with a bat costume… A great guy."
"I am afraid to ask how you know those kinds of people," Weiss comments, though Daniel dismisses her doubts by waving his hand with indifference.
"That is not important, better listen to the next one… All you need is a little bit of magic and a lot of hard work."
Weiss listens in silence, but shakes her head, not convinced at all. "I do not know who said that, and besides it sounds very childish."
Daniel nods slowly, agreeing with her. "You are right, it sounds childish… and it was said by a mouse who only wore pants."
Weiss blinks, confused. "I do not understand…" she tries to ask, but he interrupts her immediately.
"Next! Work smarter, not harder… but do not be afraid to do both. Do you want to know who said it?"
Weiss sighs, already defeated by his persistence. "I do not want to, but I suppose you will tell me anyway."
Daniel nods, satisfied, confirming her suspicions. "It was said by a very rich duck… who did not wear pants."
Weiss yawns loudly, without trying to hide it.
"Your attempts to make me let you leave this room are getting lazier each time," she murmurs with her voice dragged down by tiredness.
Daniel only scoffs with a mocking air. "Oh, my dear and naive Weiss… boring you was only part one of the plan."
That manages to catch her attention. She looks at him more seriously, narrowing her eyes with suspicion.
"Right now I only have to wait for you to fall asleep and I will walk out that door," he continues with a triumphant tone.
Weiss shakes her head, relaxing a little when she hears him. "It is a terrible plan."
"You will not say that when you wake up in this bed and notice that I am gone."
"And how exactly are you planning to do that?" she asks, showing a defiant smile.
Daniel points at himself with complete confidence. "Of course, with my magnificent voice."
His words are met with a mocking laugh that echoes lightly in the room.
"We will see who laughs last," he murmurs, taking advantage of Weiss lowering her guard.
"Now… focus on my voice~."
He makes a brief pause, slowly sitting up in bed, moving from lying down to sitting upright. He gathers all the seriousness he can before starting to sing.
"Go to sleep, go to sleep~," he intones, his voice sounding surprisingly soft.
"Go, go sleep, little baby…"
Weiss lets out a long yawn, barely covering her mouth with one hand.
"Go, go sleep, go on to sleep ♪."
Her head begins to sway. When she realizes what she is doing, she slaps her own face, trying not to fall asleep.
"Gugu gaga, time for you ♪ 🥀."
It does not work. Weiss is losing the fight against sleep. She barely manages to keep her eyes open, without realizing that Daniel is getting out of bed, approaching while still singing.
"Like they had a lot of so do ye- yeah ♪ Lara Lara Lara namno haheyare boo dap dap sup dih BAA ♪."
Now standing in front of her, he moves his hands in an exaggeratedly hypnotic way, without stopping his singing for a single second. Weiss can barely hold herself on the chair, her head falling from side to side.
"Sarewu dududu dudu rimfaa ♪ 💤."
As soon as the last word leaves his mouth, Weiss collapses, completely surrendered. Daniel reacts quickly, catching her just in time to keep her from hitting the floor. Carefully, he lifts her onto the bed, tucking her under the blankets. Seeing her asleep, a satisfied smile escapes him.
"Too easy," he whispers, turning his back on her as he calmly heads for the door.
Before leaving, he stops and sharpens his senses, listening closely for any movement on the other side. No footsteps, no voices, nothing that could expose him or ruin his masterful escape. Convinced, he turns the handle and slips into the empty hallway.
"Now…" he thinks while moving silently, sticking close to the wall, "how the hell do I get back to the core?"
For a moment he considers calling GLaDOS to pick him up, but the very idea feels humiliating. "I do not need her," he convinces himself, straightening his posture and walking away from the core, camouflaging himself with the surroundings.
"How hard can it be?"
[30 minutes later]
"I am going to humiliate myself with GLaDOS," he thinks with annoyance while staring at a Bullhead parked in front of him, still not understanding how the hell he ended up in the hangars. With resignation, he takes out the scroll and dials the contact.
Seconds pass. The ringing tone repeats again and again, but no one answers.
"That bitch!" he mutters, clenching his jaw. "She is ignoring me."
Why? He has no idea, but he is convinced she knows he is lost. She is probably watching him from the cameras, enjoying the show.
"Is she laughing at me?" The thought irritates him even more, imagining her having fun with the scene of him wandering like a doped rat inside a maze.
"Whatever… who the hell needs you?!" he shouts toward one of the hangar cameras, raising his hand and flipping the middle finger, making sure it gets caught clearly.
"I will find the exit myself."
He turns sharply, walking away from the camera with firm steps. He only makes it a few meters before sighing to himself. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."
He focuses and from his inventory takes out two objects: the ice-cream bucket and the box with the frog. He opens the box first, receiving a muffled croak from inside. The frog is alive. Then he uncaps the bucket , meeting the not-so-friendly gaze of the ice-cream girl, glaring at him from inside the container.
"Ufff…" he wipes the sweat from his forehead, relieved that both are still alive. He had completely forgotten he had them stored in there, but they look in good condition… or at least alive.
"Perfect…" he murmurs, holding the frog in one hand and the bucket in the other, lifting them up to face level to look at them directly.
"Alright, bastards, here is the deal," he says with confidence, convinced they understand him. "If you help me reach the core chamber, I promise I will release you. If you do not, I stick to the original plan and send you on a leash to Vale. Do you understand?"
First he looks at the toad, which stares back at him with its slimy eyes without giving the slightest sign of confirmation.
"Excellent, the toad declines the deal."
Immediately, the animal dissolves into a sandy glow that absorbs into his hand, returning to the inventory. Daniel then focuses on the ice-cream girl, waiting for her reaction.
She looks annoyed, though she keeps a strange confidence in her gaze. She says nothing, but part of her body changes shape and turns into a small ice-cream hand giving him a thumbs-up.
"Excellent decision! I hope you do not fail me, darling," he comments with an almost satisfied tone.
With quick steps he approaches the map hanging on the hangar wall and studies it for a moment.
"We are… here," he points with his finger at the red arrow marking his position. "And I need you to take me… here." His finger travels across the diagram until it stops at the elevator that goes down to the core chamber.
The ice-cream girl nods seriously, her eyes fixed on the map. She spends a few seconds memorizing every detail before looking back at him with a confident smile.
"Excellent, I like that attitude." Daniel nods, feeling a bit more encouraged. "Now let us begin our journey."
With the bucket held firmly in one hand, he advances toward the corridor. His steps are determined until he encounters the first obstacle: the path splits in two.
"Alright, ice-cream girl, where to?" he demands, pointing with his finger. "Right or left?"
She raises her little ice-cream arm and points without hesitation to the right. Daniel nods… and as soon as he starts walking, he heads in the opposite direction, turning to the left.
The girl waves her little arm desperately, making it very clear that he is going the wrong way, but Daniel does not look at her. He walks confidently, with a satisfied smile.
"We will get there right away!" he boasts, not noticing that just a few meters down the right path is the elevator he needs.
[Time skip]
"This does not look like the elevator," Daniel murmurs in front of the entrance to a bathroom, staring strangely at the sign on the door. His gaze slides to the ice-cream girl, who is looking at him with obvious anger. He decides to ignore her bad mood.
"Well… let us try again."
[Time skip]
"This is not it either," he repeats, now standing in the middle of a completely empty classroom.
[Time skip]
The wind hits his face as he contemplates the city of Atlas from the top of the tower. "I do not even know how we got here…"
[Time skip]
Sitting in a café, Daniel takes a sip of coffee while watching the ice-cream girl try a glass filled with ice-cream. He looks at her with intrigue, unsure if that should count as cannibalism.
"Well, let us continue," he says once they finish eating, standing up without much hurry.
[…]
"This one is not it either!" he complains, staring at the training arena.
The ice-cream girl gestures furiously, throwing at him a repertoire of signs that Daniel, with his natural polyglot skill, immediately recognizes as curses that would make a trucker blush.
[…]
"I think we are getting closer," he murmurs, pointing to a corridor that feels strangely familiar to him.
His comment is interrupted when a female voice echoes in the distance.
"Hey!"
Daniel turns his head, searching for the source until he finds her. Neon is approaching with quick steps, and nothing in her expression looks friendly.
"Oh, shit… I recognize that lunatic," he exclaims, and without thinking twice, he takes off running through the corridors, disappearing immediately and losing her in the process.
[…]
"…Nope," he shakes his head in the middle of the infirmary.
[…]
"This is not it either," he growls in a sewer, carefully moving aside a rat that crosses by his feet.
[…]
A few steps later, he looks at a pile of boxes stacked in the middle of a storage room.
"…Neither."
[…]
After hours wandering aimlessly, the thing he feared the most happens.
"Fuckkk!" he yells, seeing the Bullheads parked.
He is back exactly at the hangar where he started.
Tired and irritated, he lifts the ice-cream girl abruptly and holds her in front of his eyes. "I am sick of this!" he snaps, pointing a finger at her. "From now on you get three strikes. After the third, I send you by mail, capiche?"
The response is immediate: an ice-cold spit straight to his face. Daniel wipes it off calmly, not losing his composure. "I will take that as a yes."
Without another word, he turns around and goes back to the same corridor, once again facing the same fork. "Left or right?"
The ice-cream girl does not even bother to look at him, she simply raises her tiny ice-cream arm and points firmly to the right. Daniel nods, determined, and moves… to the left.
[…]
His head sticks out of a dusty ventilation shaft. He blinks in confusion while looking around: mops leaning against the wall, a half-full bucket, and a bottle of disinfectant. One second is enough for him to understand where he is.
"A janitor's closet? First strike!," he notes, looking at the girl peeking indifferently from her bucket.
[…]
Again he pulls his head out of another shaft. This time he stays still, surprised, but not in a good way. He lifts the ice-cream girl so she can see the view. "Does this look like an elevator to you?" he complains.
[Image]
In front of them opens a huge cave, barely lit by lights nailed into the rocks. Giant crystals protrude from the floor and the walls, reflecting dim glimmers. And at the back, a massive stone door stands closed, as imposing as it is out of place.
"I do not even know what the fuck this place is." He shakes his head, disappointed. "That is your second strike. Last chance, snowball." Without wasting time, he goes back into the same shaft.
[…]
"AHHH!" Daniel's scream echoes as he shoots out of the vent fan at full speed. He shakes himself off completely, rattled.
"Did you see that thing?!" He breathes heavily, skin crawling. "It was horrible! All those legs… all those eyes…" A shiver runs up his back as he tries to erase the image of the spider from his head.
He takes a breath, pushes aside the unpleasant feeling, and looks around the place where he landed. He recognizes medical equipment stacked on shelves, some paintings hanging on the wall, and most importantly, an old woman staring at him with a cup of tea in her hand.
[Image]
Daniel clenches his jaw. "Well, that was your third strike," he tells the ice-cream girl. She answers by throwing a chunk of herself straight into his face.
"How mature," he growls, wiping off the sticky stain. "Now I really am going to mail you."
The ice-cream girl gestures furiously, waving her tiny hands in obvious anger, but before he can pay her any more attention, a voice interrupts them.
"Excuse me."
The old woman, the same one who had been watching them this whole time, faces them calmly. She sets her teacup on the small table beside the bed and fixes her gaze directly on him.
"May I ask who you are and why you came in through the ventilation?"
Daniel glances at the ice-cream girl, quickly exchanging a complicit look. He gives an awkward smile, clears his throat, and tries to sound as professional as possible.
"My apologies, good lady. My partner and I…" he gestures toward the bucket, from which the ice-cream girl's head barely peeks out with an indifferent expression, "are exterminators. We were… exterminating some pests."
He doesn't even bother to build a believable lie. Nor does he try to hide the ice-cream girl: the old woman had already seen her and, honestly, given how ancient she looks, if she ever told anyone what she witnessed, they'd probably chalk it up to senile dementia.
"Exterminators, I see." The old woman nods slowly, though her eyes suddenly sharpen. "If you're exterminators, then why don't you kill that spider?" she points behind them.
Daniel barely registers the word before he leaps away from the wall in exaggerated panic. And to his horror, there is indeed a spider there, though it's significantly smaller.
"Oh my God!" he screams in terror. "It's the same one I saw in the vent! Is it following me? Is it going to kill me?" he thinks, instinctively rushing to the old woman's bedside, ready to use her as a shield… or a sacrifice, if the situation demanded it.
"You don't strike me as very competent exterminators." The woman lets out a short, amused laugh.
"Yes, yes, I lied. Just kill that monster," he admits, pointing at the wall with a trembling finger.
The woman doesn't flinch. She raises her hand calmly, her fingers emitting a faint glow before releasing a small shard of ice toward the wall. It doesn't kill the spider, but it does scare it off, forcing it back into the ventilation shaft.
Daniel lets out a relieved sigh as it disappears. His breathing steadies, and with a hint of awe he allows himself to look at the old woman.
"Ice semblance. Very impressive, granny," he says, giving a couple of soft claps. He would admit he'd love to get that ability for himself, if it weren't for the fact its wielder looks like a shriveled raisin.
"So… are you going to tell me what you were doing in the ventilation shaft?" the old woman cuts in, her eyes locked on him.
"I'm not a criminal, if that's what you think."
The old woman lifts the corner of her lip in a slight, almost amused smile, while moving her hand toward a button beside her bed.
"Then you won't mind if I call the guards."
"No, no, no." Daniel waves his hands frantically, leaning forward a little. "Don't do that," he pleads urgently.
The old woman stops her movement and slowly lowers her hand, studying him carefully.
"I thought you weren't a criminal. Why so afraid of the guards?"
"Ahh…" Daniel sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll tell you, but I don't think you'll believe me. I'm running away from General Ironwood. But not for the reason you think." He pauses, organizing his words. "I'm running away because the general wants me to rest. I don't expect you to understand."
The old woman's smile falters slightly. "I think I do understand," she says, gesturing to herself and the bed she's confined to.
"That's depressing," Daniel replies without the slightest hint of pity—and immediately notices how that seems to please her.
"Forget that. Why don't you let me see that curious little creature?"
Daniel follows her gaze to the bucket where the tiny ice-cream girl rests. He hesitates for a moment, turning the bucket in his hands, but finally shrugs and hands it over. The old woman receives it carefully.
"Hello, little one," she whispers with evident curiosity.
The tiny ice-cream girl pokes her head over the rim of the bucket, stretching out her arms to touch the woman's wrinkled hand. Her intrigued expression draws a softer look from the old woman.
"Does she have a name?" she asks, interested.
Daniel shakes his head. "She doesn't."
"Aren't you going to ask me where she came from?" The old woman lifts her gaze for a moment, though she doesn't take the bucket off her lap.
"Are you going to tell me?"
Daniel grins, amused. "No," he answers quickly.
"Then I don't see the point in asking," the old woman retorts, reaching out a hand toward the ice-cream girl.
Curiously, the girl doesn't seem upset when the old woman tries to touch her—only surprised when a white mist begins to flow from the woman's hand, curling around her. The cold condenses in the air, and the little one seems to enjoy it, leaning in with even more enthusiasm. For a while, the strange game between the two continues.
"Well, I suppose I won't keep you any longer," the old woman finally says, carefully handing the bucket back.
Daniel takes it without a word and heads for the door. No way in hell was he crawling back into the ventilation shafts knowing there was a spider waiting for him in there. But just before leaving, an idea makes him spin on his heels.
"By any chance, do you know where the elevator is?" he asks with interest.
The old woman looks confused by the question but eventually nods slowly. "I do. It's really not far, you just have to turn—"
"Don't give me directions," Daniel interrupts, raising a hand. "I'm terrible at following them."
She doesn't seem bothered by the interruption. "Then how do you expect to get there without directions?"
Daniel strokes his chin, thoughtful. "Well… maybe you could… get up from your bed… and, I don't know… CARRY ME?!"
The laughter that bursts out of the old woman catches him off guard. She wipes a tear carefully, laughing with genuine amusement.
"I suspect that wasn't a joke." It takes her a moment to compose herself. "As much as I'd like to, as you can see, my body isn't in any condition to move freely."
"I see…" Daniel mutters, more to himself than to her. He falls silent for a few seconds, weighing his options. He considers carrying her, but the image of the old woman dying along the way makes him discard the idea instantly—too much trouble.
It takes him a while, but eventually he manages. "I've got an idea!" he says excitedly.
He turns around, slipping his hand into his jacket while keeping his back to her, calmly rummaging through his inventory until he pulls out a bottle of berry juice. Pretending it was always in his jacket, he shows it off with an exaggerated flourish.
"Tada." He grins, holding up the bottle and presenting it triumphantly.
"And what is that supposed to be?" the old woman asks, a bit confused.
"Healing berry juice, Hawk brand. Coming soon to a store near you." Daniel sets the bottle in one hand and gestures with the other as if filming a commercial.
"Made with the finest healing berries. Cures any wound and restores the consumer's condition."
The old woman raises a brow. "You want me to drink a 'magic' elixir from a boy who just crawled out of a ventilation shaft?" she asks with clear skepticism.
"It's really good." Daniel nods seriously. "Though, unfortunately, it's not gonna cure how old you are or how damn paranoid. Just drink it already! It's not like you're anyone important enough to be this cautious."
"But if you're so doubtful…" he mutters, uncapping the bottle and, without hesitation, pours some over the ice-cream girl. She's coated in a strange shimmer, almost like frosting. Then, to drive the point home, he takes a swig himself and offers it again with a triumphant gesture.
The old woman snorts with amusement but finally extends her hand. She takes a long drink and hands it back. A brief silence follows, until Daniel notices a small change in her—she's still just as old and wrinkled, but there's a spark of vitality back in her eyes.
The woman straightens up and, to Daniel's surprise, rises to her feet without much effort, flexing her hands lightly.
"Better?"
"Better…" the old woman murmurs, walking beside him toward the exit.
When they open the door, several robots stand guard outside. They don't move or stop them, simply ignoring their presence. The old woman takes the lead, guiding him down the hallway.
"It's a great miracle medicine," she remarks as they walk. "I'm sure if you commercialize it, you'll make a lot of money… of course, you'd also help a lot of people. But something tells me that part doesn't matter much to you, does it?"
Daniel takes it in stride. Her tone doesn't sound reproachful, more like a neutral observation.
"You know, I like you. If you were fifty years younger and I were fifty years older, I'd try something with you." He laughs to himself, enjoying his own comment.
The old woman glances at him. "You don't have friends, do you?"
"Shut up. I've got enough."
[City of Atlas – Post Office]
In the middle of the post office, with Aegis now perched on his head, Daniel fills out a shipping form to Vale. In the end, the old woman had indeed guided him to the elevator, and from there it was just a straight path with no detours where he could get lost.
The guards hadn't bothered him either when he entered the core chamber, and just as quickly as he had gone in, he slipped out through the ventilation shaft to reappear in Atlas. That was enough: the important thing was that they saw him enter. The deception was complete.
Now, standing at the counter, he starts packing a box. First he shoves in the cocaine, then carefully places the box with the frog inside, and just before putting the ice-cream girl in, he notices her staring at him with a sad expression.
"Don't look at me like that," he warns, pointing a finger at her, uncomfortable. "We had a deal, and you blew it."
Her eyes widen, becoming even more pitiful.
"Don't look at me like that! Life isn't fair, get used to it. Maybe Neo will treat you well… or maybe she'll eat you, I'm not sure which."
A tear forms at the corner of her eyes. Daniel lets out a groan, more frustrated than sympathetic, and looks away.
"Ahhh! Fine! You win!"
"Besides, it's not like I was even using it…" he mutters, reaching into his jacket and pulling out his gold-plated weapon.
He holds it for a moment, ready to hand it over, but hesitates. If the ice-cream girl fired at Neo the second she opened the box, that'd put her in danger. The thought makes him doubt… until he remembers the time she cut off his finger and left him facing a gun-toting monkey on his own. That memory wipes away any hesitation.
He extends the pistol to the ice-cream girl. She takes it with both hands, barely able to hold it.
"Quick tutorial: this is the safety, this is the trigger, you point at whatever you want to shoot, and pull. That's all you need to know."
Before she can say anything, Daniel slams the box shut. And, since he wasn't a monster, he sticks a "fragile" label right on top in big, clear letters. With that resolved, he straightens up and slides the box onto the counter.
Once it's shipped, a small wave of relief washes over him. With everything settled, he turns on his heel and leaves the post office, picking up his pace toward Mantle—he still had Semblances to collect.
-//-
Author's Note:
I'd love to write more, but right now I'm in my last year of university and I feel like I'm dying inside, so I really don't have much time.
I've been sitting here for a while trying to figure out what to write in this note and nothing comes to mind… so I'll just leave you some pictures instead. Which one do you like more?
[Images]
Leave a comment, I always enjoy reading them and adding ideas to the story.
Anyway, see you soon…
Kisses and hugs!