“Damn, the snow just won’t stop.”

The gloomy sky and the dead city of New York.

Snow fell silently without a breath of wind. Beneath it lay the ruins of a once-bustling metropolis, now only disturbed by a few individuals digging through the debris. Withered trees, collapsed concrete domes, and hundreds of workers with dozens of heavy machinery busily excavating the remnants of the facilities surrounded me.

Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant.

A place that had left a painful scar on Icarus and Team Dagger more than anything else.

“How is the current work situation?”

“I think I’ve heard that question at least four times today.”

“Bear with me.”

Without a word, the aide activated a hologram.

“All collapse points have been identified. A few weeks ago, we used pulses to locate the underground passages, and we’re currently excavating the debris with excavators. We are approximately 85% through. It’s anticipated that we’ll be able to partially open the passage today.”

“...”

“That’s all.”

In other words, there was nothing more to say.

The sounds of heavy machinery mixed with the voices of people within the winter’s unique silence. A sort of white noise enveloped everyone under the tent. The silence that felt like it would last forever began to lift, revealing a conversation.

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

The scenes from that time flickered in front of my eyes, even though I tried not to remember them.

There was no debriefing.

The Dagger team submitted recorded footage of what had happened at the time to the higher-ups, and everyone learned what had transpired. The underground had collapsed completely, trapping Eugene, and minutes later, her Icarus gear had stopped sending any signals.

The mission had been a tactical and strategic success. Team Dagger had expelled all the remaining Russian forces from the Northeast, and they had recovered and dismantled the nuclear briefcase they brought along. Furthermore, Eugene's last transmission confirmed this.

-[Eugene: …The situation has settled for now, but they are approaching the HLW… the high-level radioactive waste site, so I will do my best to stop them.]

As she said, according to UAVs scouting the skies, no remaining Russian forces had emerged from the Indian Point Nuclear Power Plant since that communication—it was clear what this meant. Eugene had fulfilled her duty to the very end.

But that was the end of it. After that, Eugene did not respond to any further communications. To be precise, on the day she went missing, she left behind only a signal indicating “vital signs lost” and permanently left their side.

Days passed, then weeks, and about three months went by. Team Dagger had departed for California to block the Russian and Chinese coalition forces that were heading south through Canada after crossing Alaska.

Sadly, in the current world, there wasn’t much time to remember, mourn, or commemorate someone’s death.

Silence reigned.

Yet, they couldn’t rest. They merely moved about mechanically, inspecting whether the construction was progressing smoothly.

And hours later, as the white sky began to dim and announce the arrival of evening—

“Part of the passage has been opened!”

The long-awaited news reached everyone.

As the lights activated for smooth operations shone even brighter, a passage appeared among the piles of reinforced concrete debris. It was a hole big enough for a few people to pass through. The temporary supports were scattered all around, making it look more like an opening than a proper passage.

While creating a hole was encouraging, that was about all it was. If someone recklessly entered, there was a risk of the surroundings collapsing again.

“How much longer do we need to create a sturdy passage?”

“We’ll need at least another week. We recommend not entering until we’ve removed enough of the concrete debris that could collapse and have reinforced the area inside and out. It’s suspected that the Russian army used vibration bombs to cause the structural collapse.”

“Damn Slavic trash…”

It was natural for everyone to think that way.

At this point, aside from the virus, the hatred of American citizens and soldiers toward Russia and China had surpassed a breaking point. Plans to flatten both nations once order was restored within the US were about to be passed with the support of all surviving government officials.

Anyway, aside from that, since no one had entered yet, the inside remained dark. It had been a long time since light had penetrated the darkness inside the tunnel.

I shone my flashlight inside. A hologram projected the facility’s blueprint into the air and indicated where the current location was.

As the light flooded in, a rather grim interior scene was revealed.

“… corpses.”

“The numbers are… staggering.”

It was only natural, considering several battalions of infantry had poured into the area.

The bodies of Russian soldiers lay scattered like garbage. Various factors, including dried blood on the floor, polluted the air with an unpleasant smell. Fortunately, the temperature inside was maintained at subzero levels, so they hadn’t begun to rot.

If that had happened, no one would have dared to enter.

But at least today, there was a reason to go inside.

-[Alert: Echo detected.]

“... Let’s go inside and check.”

“I’ll go too.”

Thus, one responsible person and one aide entered with flashlights in hand.

With a rustling sound, rebar and concrete debris tumbled all around as the two cautiously stepped into the inner corridor. About several dozen meters ahead lay the echo left by Eugene. If the debris had been just a bit more widely and evenly distributed, they might never have seen that last message.

When I reached out, the activation began.

The hologram, displaying the face of someone who had looked dejected while holding a gun, carefully continued speaking.

• There is a way out, but after questioning a few survivors, we’ve confirmed that the enemy hasn’t completely given up on this operation.

The enemies are currently gathering near the high-level radioactive waste storage, and it seems they are attempting to manipulate the facility to seize it and convert it into a dirty bomb. I don’t know if they have the equipment to carry out the radioactive mass. What idiots…

It seems that my escape route might be through the waterway leading to the Hudson River. I can’t wait to see the look on the Dagger team members’ faces when I swim out later. I hope all the paths haven’t collapsed completely.

End. Operator Eugene Lee.

“... The waterway.”

Now that I think about it, didn’t they also mention that there were areas flooded due to the facility’s collapse?

The Icarus gear could decompose water to generate hydrogen and oxygen, and it could also create compressed air. With just the gear, it was possible to survive underwater for about an hour and a half, so as long as the passage wasn’t completely destroyed, Eugene could have escaped on her own.

Even if all the passages collapsed and escape became impossible, she could have dug a small hole to deliver necessities, allowing her to escape from the darkness in less than a few weeks.

But she couldn’t do that.

Which meant…

“... We need to finish reinforcing as quickly as possible.”

Eugene could have died at the hands of the Russian army, or her gear could have been damaged.

If that were the case, the next thing that had to be done would be… retrieving the remains.

‘The Dagger team will likely be hell-bent on returning to New York.’

Thinking that, they transmitted the echo file left by Eugene to the Dagger team and returned outside.

The truth was slowly being revealed.

“Breach in the reinforced wall! The enemies are coming!”

“RPG, RPG! Aah—!”

“Damn it, I’m out of bullets!”

“This is Bravo. We’ve lost 60% of our power. Position tracking is impossible. We’re retreating.”

“We’re screwed, we’re screwed.”

Corpus Christi.

At a children’s hospital in this small to medium-sized American city located just below San Antonio and Houston, a shootout was taking place. The building was on fire, the walls barricaded with iron bars were completely destroyed by RPGs, and a mountain of enemy corpses piled up as new foes poured in.

Thus, in the moment when the last resisting user was surrounded by countless enemies and met his end, a red message rose above the screen, signaling a complete halt to the mission. It was literally a situation of overwhelming odds—and countless people faced this predicament.

The surrounding environment shifted to the waiting room. With some lying sprawled on the floor, streamers checking the chat sighed deeply.

“Should we change the mission difficulty?”

“That might be better. First, we need to check how the mission is structured; otherwise, it looks like we won’t even be able to get past the first engagement.”

“This grind is insane for this mission.”

Grind.

A term unique to the Dark Zone used to collectively refer to missions that test users' pure shooting skills and situational response abilities without any particular gimmicks. And it was indeed the case. Operation Chariot was not a type of incursion mission that allowed the performance of the Icarus gear to be fully utilized.

As proof of this, teams aiming for so-called “traditional” special forces in the US and Europe began to appear with noticeable achievements—only about three days after the mission opened, teams with progress over 60% were starting to emerge.

Of course, they also added that this mission was one where “if it were existing SOF personnel rather than actual Icarus operators, they would be accustomed to this type of progression, but even so, the skills of each user are tested to their limits.”

In fact, there was no choice. The mission had not been adequately grasped yet, and they couldn’t discern the distribution and weaknesses of the enemies.

“No, but still. Why the hell aren’t they dying? They’re lightly armed, yet they won’t fall even after taking hits.”

“They must be on drugs. They probably won’t go down until you hit them in the head.”

“Wow, what should we use then?”

Then came the second problem.

They don’t die easily even when shot.

This disaster occurred because of the label “cartel” attached to the enemies. Supposedly, those entering the combat were using a synthetic drug that combined cocaine and marijuana to achieve both pain relief and an adrenaline rush, rushing into battle.

Charging forward with their guts blown out, or dragging their bodies while shooting with their right hand at an AK-style rifle even after taking bullets to their knees was a sight often seen on the battlefield. If the Dark Zone hadn’t heavily censored many dangerous expressions and hadn’t replaced blood and severed limbs with polygons, it might have been impossible for anyone under 19 to play the game.

Anyway, the sheer terror of numerous enemies that don’t die easily was a fear in itself, and naturally, the average firepower of the team increased—but the problem was that if the caliber of the bullets increased, the number of rounds carried would naturally decrease.

Thus, users capable of challenging the incursion had to sharpen their extreme shooting skills.

“...That’s the current situation.”

“There hasn’t been this kind of mess in a long time.”

As he said.

In fact, civilians faced with restrictions on accessing information naturally wouldn’t know how to fortify a building, block entrances through appropriate placements of explosives, or demolish the building.

That being said, I felt a bit harsh to bring over the difficulty I had faced in the past, so I had contacted Icarus about it today. I’m sure a hotfix will start in a few days. My goal wasn’t to clear the mission first, but if we’re going to do it, shouldn’t we make it a bit more accessible?

Anyway, back to the topic.

“Shall we unify the firearms?”

“If you want to take it easy, that’s probably better.”

“Since the engagement will focus on preemptive strikes, there’s no need for excessive firepower. If we don’t give the cartel time to charge at us, that’s enough.”

“...Something strange is happening that we don’t know about.”

“Right?”

In order, it was me, Laurentina, Logan, and then Harmony and Dais.

Naturally, since they needed a bit of elaboration, I was about to speak first—but lately, Laurentina, who was enjoying the sight of Harmony, began explaining first. Of course, it was only natural that she was sitting on the shark’s lap, receiving strokes.

“The defensive battle may seem to give considerable advantages to defenders at first glance, but when the manpower available differs drastically, it’s not very effective. Due to the nature of defensive battles, the attacking side is also given ample time to prepare.”

“Ah... Ah. Now that you mention it, that makes sense. And once the engagement begins, it won’t take long for the defenders' position to be revealed.”

“Exactly. You’re sharp.”

Meanwhile, Dais also slyly stepped closer to me and added.

“I heard that the opponents we’re fighting this time are on drugs, so is the reason for the preemptive strike related to that?”

“Exactly. There won’t be anyone on duty who is on drugs. In other words, it means they’re easier to kill than those enhanced by drugs who have heightened aggression and durability.”

In other words, it meant that there was no need to carry firearms larger than 5.56mm. The majority of the enemies, labeled as drug users, had little to no decent body armor, and even if the actual special forces were deployed, they could not face off against Icarus operators head-on.

In the end, it was about stealth.

And there was a reason for the unification of firearms as well.

“And since there are many enemies to capture this time, if we carry weapons with bullets that aren’t compatible, we’ll have quite a headache later on.”

“Ah, now that you mention it, that makes sense.”

It was a point that many overlooked.

It’s a slightly different story, but the US military operates helicopters, Humvees, armored vehicles, tanks, and motorcycles all on JP-8 jet fuel—though the Navy uses diesel for ships, JP-5, and various others.

In any case, unifying the consumable bullets was one of the simplest and most crucial methods to increase combat sustainability.

After spending several tens of minutes hammering down key information for Dais and Harmony, I showed them several melee weapons usable in the Dark Zone.

Seeing the two wearing expressions of “what is this?” I added.

“This is a small power bunker that operates on electricity. The CQC motions in the Dark Zone are generally too long, and there’s an issue where it shifts to third-person when used…”

“...In other words, you’re saying we should use this instead of a tactical knife?”

“That’s right.”

Of course, it was only natural that it wouldn’t end there, and of course, they would need to go through a familiarization process.

Unlike Harmony, who I had taught to modify sticky bombs to use something similar, Dais wore a rather bewildered expression, but there was nothing to be done.

As always, the method was simple.

“Stun them with the shock grenade, then click it at their vital points. Simple, right?”

“...That really is simple, huh?”

“Well, it’s not that hard once you do it.”

“Is Harmony being weird...?”

Harmony chuckled with a strange expression, and Dais shook his head at that.

It was already too late to back out.

“Alright, let’s go. We need some practice.”

“Why the hell did I get dragged here...?”

Of course, despite saying that, there was no hesitation in their steps.

It was a day with little time left before the mission began.