"…I thought things might get easier once the Florida campaign was over, but that was a pipe dream."

"Yeah, no kidding."

Still cutting through the fierce snowstorm, the Dagger Team, dressed in thick layers of clothing without any unity in their attire, catches their breath near the airport. The day was horribly cold, and the blood smeared across their clothes froze instantly before it could even fall to the ground.

Fresh blood froze and piled on the snow, and more blood accumulated on top of that, giving my appearance a resemblance to a Christmas tree plucked from the middle of a snowy hell, as though it had just been pulled from a mountain of ice and death.

And on top of that, thanks to the fallen Icarus Gear hanging all over my body, the reflection of my form in the mirror... well, let's not even talk about it. If a child had seen it, they'd probably have pissed themselves.

At least it was a relief that the blood sticking to me wasn’t from my own side.

Anyway, when the Dagger Team arrived near the airport, things felt a little different than when our gear had been disabled initially. More specifically, there was a bit more relaxation—at least, that's how I felt.