Hey guys sorry for the late update. I've started my 3rd year of college and I am swarmed with things to do. Anyway, I'll try to update every time I have days off.

The icy winds of the Scandinavian mountains whispered around the private airstrip as Dimitri's jet descended. The frozen landscape stretched far beyond the horizon like a kingdom of endless winter. It was a stark contrast to the bustling cities he was used to but quite similar to the frigid embrace of Mother Russia. But this was the land of the Swedes—a place as untamed and fierce as the warriors who called it home. As the plane touched down, Dimitri steeled himself, knowing that this visit was not merely a formality. There were eyes on him, watching, measuring, and judging.

The door to the jet opened, and Dimitri stepped out into the crisp air. He was greeted by a group of assassins, each one standing tall and exuding an aura of lethal grace. Their eyes were cold and calculating, betraying no emotion. If they did not move he would assume that they were statues made of ice and snow. They wore light grey uniforms that blended well with the pale and bleak world they lived in, but the crest of Frost Bringer was emblazoned on their chests with some variations to represent their homeland. 

Dimitri knew that these were not just any soldiers. They were the elite assassins, the heart of the Scandinavian branch, each bearing a codename inspired by the gods of the Norse underworld.

At the forefront stood Hela, the leader of this formidable group. She was a tall, imposing figure with bright blonde hair that glowed like golden sunshine. In contrast, her eyes were a piercing blue, cold as the glaciers, yet they held a depth of wisdom and power. Her presence commanded respect, and even Dimitri could sense the tension in the air. But it wasn’t hostility—it was something more primal, a guarded wariness that came from a place of deep respect.

“Welcome to the North, Aidoneus,” Hela greeted, her voice a smooth, low timbre that echoed the icy landscape around them. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Dimitri inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her words. “Thank you, Hela. It’s an honor to be here.” His voice was calm and measured, but beneath it lay the steely resolve that had earned him his reputation.

Hela motioned for him to follow, and as they walked, the other assassins fell in behind them. They moved like shadows, their steps silent, their presence intimidating. Dimitri could feel their eyes on him, a silent appraisal of the man who had become a legend in his own right. But he did not flinch or falter. He had faced worse odds before.

As they approached the main compound, Dimitri’s gaze swept over the surroundings. The Scandinavian branch’s headquarters were nestled within the mountains, a fortress built into the rock itself. It was a place of both beauty and danger, its architecture blending seamlessly with the natural landscape. The cold, unyielding stone walls and the snow-covered roofs created a fortress that was both formidable and awe-inspiring.

Inside, the atmosphere was no less tense. The air was thick with unspoken words, the subtle wariness of the Scandinavian team towards Dimitri evident in every glance and motion. Yet, underlying that tension was a current of respect, an acknowledgment of his prowess and leadership. Dimitri knew that these warriors were not easily impressed, but they recognized strength when they saw it.

Hela led him to a grand hall, where a long table awaited them. The walls were lined with ancient weapons and tapestries depicting battles from Norse mythology. It was a room that breathed history, every corner filled with echoes of the past.

As they sat down, Hela’s expression softened, though only slightly. “I understand the Stravage incident has caused significant losses for your branch,” she began, her tone direct. “We’ve all felt the impact.”

Dimitri nodded, his face hardening at the mention of Joseph Stravage. “Yes. His attack was unexpected, and the losses were heavy. But we’re not here to dwell on the past. We need to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”

Hela’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Agreed. But before we discuss preventive measures, there’s something you should know.” She leaned forward, her voice lowering. “Our investigation has uncovered some unsettling information. Joseph Stravage wasn’t acting alone. In fact, he wasn’t even the mastermind behind the attack.”

Dimitri’s gaze sharpened, his mind racing with possibilities. “Who then?”

“They go by the name 'Porteur de mort.' It is French I believe."

"Bringer of death." Dimitri translated, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "Are they trying to mock us by using a variant of our name?"

"I am not sure whether they are a single entity or a new organization working covertly in the shadows but one thing's for sure: they are not our friends,” Hela replied, her tone grave. “The enemy we’re facing is far more dangerous than Stravage. Someone else is pulling the strings, and they’re still out there, waiting to strike again.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy with implications. Dimitri felt a chill run down his spine, but not from the cold. Whoever was behind this had orchestrated a near-perfect strike against Frost Bringer, and they were still in the shadows, planning their next move.

"Do you know if they're associated with Malcolm? Morozov mercenaries were hired to add to their manpower. I thought it was my father or one of my stupid brothers." Dimitri leaned against his seat, taking a sip of the wine Hela had poured for him.

"The mercenaries were paid using an offshore account. No matter what loophole we jump through, it always leads to a dead end. If it was one of your brothers or even your father, the money trail would be easy to track, but this one is cleaver. This adversary might be an unknown third party."

“Then we need to find them before they can act again. This Porteur de mort might get in the way of our plans especially now that we're about to mount the climax of Project Mordred.” Dimitri said, his voice hard with determination. “We need to ensure that this time, we won’t be caught off guard.”

Hela nodded in agreement, her eyes meeting his with a fierce intensity. “We’re in this together, Aidoneus. The North stands with you. But tread carefully. Whoever we’re dealing with is cunning, and they won’t hesitate to strike again if given the chance.”

The tension in the room thickened as they both understood the gravity of the situation. This wasn’t just about revenge or retribution. It was about survival. The survival of Frost Bringer and of everything they had fought to protect.

🌹

The morning sun filtered through the large windows of Dimitri’s penthouse, casting a warm glow across the room. (Y/n) stretched lazily, her gaze falling on the empty space beside her in bed. Dimitri had left for Sweden last night, leaving her with a lingering sense of emptiness. Despite this, she went about her day as usual.

For once she was able to brush her teeth without anyone trying to hug her from behind like a clingy cat. For once she doesn't have to sit on the toilet doing nothing, holding his hand while he showers as he would normally request every morning. For once she could eat her meals without him trying to eat her.

(Y/n) enjoyed her quiet, lazy morning with a steaming cup of tea, listening to the faint sound of music being played in the sound system while gazing at the cityscape beneath her feet. It was peaceful. Her life feels serene.

Cerberus, her current guardian, stood by the door, his imposing figure a silent promise of protection. He was more than just a bodyguard; he was her shadow, ensuring her safety in Dimitri’s absence.

"Good morning, Miss (Y/n)," Cerberus greeted her with a slight bow as she emerged from the bedroom, dressed casually but elegantly.

"Morning, Cerberus," she replied with a soft smile. "Ready for a day of babysitting?"

"It’s my duty, Miss," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Several packages came earlier today for you. I took the liberty of checking them for any hazardous items and found them perfectly safe."

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that, it's below your pay grade."

"It's no problem really. Although I have one question,"

"Yes?"

"Why do you need so many bags? Don't get me wrong, they are beautiful, especially since they are intricately embroidered with flowers and all that, but do items no longer last that long? That's why they immediately need replacement?"

"Well, I'm actually trying to support local businesses. They're cheap, but the quality is much better than known brands, so I paid as much as I would for a Prada. You know me, I'm an advocate for the underdogs. Plus, it's barely a dent in Dimitri's bottomless pot of gold. He's richer than Scrouge."

"Scrouge? The cartoon duck with a room full of gold coins? You're comparing Mister Aidoneus with a duck?"

"Huh, I guess I am." (Y/n) gave a cheeky laugh making her guardian smile while shaking his head at her antics.

Today is a holiday, so (Y/n) found herself with nothing much to do, so she decided to hang out with her cousin, Eidanne, her favorite Belladonna. She messaged her and was told that she was with Tristan, teaching him the basics of defusing a bomb. (Y/n) decided that it would be fun to join them as the topic of their activity seemed interesting.

(Y/n) left Dimitri’s penthouse with Cerberus in tow. As she entered the control center, the buzz of activities greeted her senses. Members of Frost Bringer moved about with purpose, but there was a noticeable pause in their steps as she walked by. The respect she commanded within the organization was palpable, a reflection of her status and the aura she naturally exuded.

She found Tristan and Eidanne in his work area. A table was laid out in front of them with various types of explosives. Tristan looked tense, his brow furrowed in concentration while Eidanne munched on a burger, calmly explaining what to do.

"Remember, Tristan," Eidanne said, her tone patient but firm, "it’s not just about cutting the right wire. You need to understand the design and the intent behind the bomb. This is as much a mental game as it is a technical skill."

Tristan nodded, but his nerves were evident. He glanced up as (Y/n) approached, offering her a shy smile. "Good morning, Miss (Y/n)."

"Morning, Tristan. How’s the training going?" she asked, leaning against the table.

"It’s… intense," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "But I’m learning a lot."

"You’ll do fine," (Y/n) assured him. "Eidanne’s one of the best. Just don’t let the pressure get to you."

Eidanne smiled at her cousin. "(Y/n)’s right. You’ve got potential, Tristan. And if you make a mistake, all you've got to lose is your life. But on the plus side, it's a quick death. You won't even have time to feel the pain, so you'll be fine."

"That's not really reassuring, B," Tristan replied making the Belladonna laugh and choke on her burger.

"May I know why you're learning this?" asked (Y/n).

"Cuz, sis," Eidanne said in between bites. "Every bitch needs to learn how to blow stuff out."

(Y/n) laughed at this while Tristan pursed his lips awkwardly. "B, that came out wrong, dude. That came out wrong."

"You came out wrong! Now diffuse this bomb or I will be melting your entire Gundam collection. Your choice, Tris."

"Alright, alright. So is it the blue wire of the red wire?"

"None of that you idiot! You remove the blasting cap first to prevent triggering the explosion. It's not Hollywood, dude."

"Stop pressuring me! I'm trying, okay? "

"Pressure is an excellent way to grow. It's how you bloom in the face of adversity that makes you one hell of a tough bitch, you basic bitch."

"I guess you didn't have it when you were growing up then." (Y/n) covered her mouth to prevent the laughter bubbling from her throat. Eidanne frowned at her before turning her attention back to Tristan and pointing her half-eaten burger at him as if it was a deadly weapon.

"Want me to end you?"

"No. Sorry, I was trying to be funny but it came out offensive... I'll continue with this." Tristan awkwardly handled the bomb, doing as the Belladonna had instructed. After several minutes of intense concentration, Tristan successfully diffused the bomb. Eidanne finally nodded in approval, patting him on the back for accomplishing his goal.

"See. Pressure works."

"Yeah..."

As the lesson continued, (Y/n) watched, admiring the way Eidanne guided Tristan through the complexities of bomb defusal. She would occasionally give him encouragement to boost his morale, but somehow, she ended up joining him in his training. Eidanne ground them both under her strict tutelage, pointing out the smallest mistakes and correcting them properly.

The process can get daunting but they were able to accomplish their objectives with some level of proficiency.

After the session, the three of them took a break in the lounge area. Eidanne opened up more around her cousin. They talked about the latest missions and the challenges they faced, and even reminisced about their childhood, sharing stories that made Tristan laugh and relax.

Tristan listened intently, enjoying the glimpse into their past. It was moments like these that made him feel more connected to people. He's typically reserved and only speaks quite a lot when Dimitri is around so it was refreshing to find himself enjoying the company of new friends.

As the afternoon wore on, the trio found themselves playing games. Many jokes were made, laughter constantly rang from their little gathering, and stories flowed with much ease. Cerberus was always a step behind, watching over the three of them, keeping them out of trouble.

Suddenly, the screens in the room flickered. The serene blue of the Frost Bringer's logo was replaced by a chaotic swirl of static. Tristan ran back to his computers, his fingers immediately flying over his keyboard, trying to regain control of the system, but it was too late. The static cleared, revealing a live video feed.

Chelsea’s face appeared on every screen, her signature smile—a twisted blend of delight and malice—looming large before them. Her eyes glinted with manic energy a grave contrast to her youthful and child-like appearance. Behind her, the faint outline of a city skyline could be seen through a grimy window, though it was impossible to tell where she was.

“Hello, (Y/n),” Chelsea’s voice purred, filling the room with its eerie sweetness. “Did you miss me?”

Eidanne’s hand instinctively moved to hold her cousin's hand, her eyes narrowing at the sight of the deranged woman. Cerberus, ever the guardian, took a step closer to (Y/n), his body tensing in preparation for whatever was to come. His hand was already on the trigger of his gun, his sharp mind already preparing for the worst. A betrayal? An infiltration? It doesn't matter, his primary objective is to keep the Despoina safe and ensure that she survives. His eyes scanned their surroundings, seeking the slightest hint of danger. Everyone was on high alert, and with their leader elsewhere, everyone felt a sense of unease.

Tristan’s hands hovered over his keyboard, ready to shut down the feed, but (Y/n) raised a hand, stopping him. “What do you want, Hibiscus 1789?” (Y/n)’s voice was steady, but there was an edge to it.

“Oh, I’m just here to play a little game,” Chelsea replied, her grin widening. “I’ve planted a few surprises around the city. Some are just for fun, but one… well, let’s just say it’s got a bit more bite. Tick-tock, darling. You’ve got until 9:27 to find the big bomb. Fail, and you can say goodbye to a significant chunk of the city you hold so dear.”

"Why are you doing this? You also live here!" Eidanne reasoned out making Chelsea glare at her, her hatred evident.

"Because my darling dear (Y/n) hasn't been paying much attention to me lately. All she cares about is playing with her new prey. It makes me really sad boohoo." Chelsea feigned some tears before laughing maniacally. "Why should Mr. King of Assassins have all your attention when I could love you more? That doesn't seem very fair, does it now? So, let's play a game," A countdown flashed on the screen, hovering just beside Chelsea's image.

"If you win, no one gets to die. At least no one that really matters." she chuckled ominously. "But if I win, you can come back to me and I get to blow up your boyfriend's cute little playhouse."

Eidanne’s eyes flicked to (Y/n), waiting for her cue. Tristan’s fingers twitched as he worked to trace the signal, but Chelsea’s laugh cut through the tension. “Oh, don’t bother trying to find me, Tris. I’m far too clever for that.”

Chelsea leaned closer to the camera, her expression suddenly deadly serious. “Here’s a hint, my precious Lady Lycoris Radiata. This should be an easy one for you:
Here a day of fun
Flaunting his blood-covered gold
Red lips, poison-filled
Finding one hint will lead you to another. I do hope you’re up to the challenge. I’d hate for this to end without a big bang. And to make sure that you would treat this game seriously,” The screen lit up with new colors as something exploded from the background, a building not too far away from where Chelsea was.

"You have until 9:27 pm. Bye~"

The screens abruptly went black, the Frost Bringer logo reappearing as control was restored. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Chelsea’s words hanging heavily in the air.

(Y/n)’s mind raced, processing the information as she turned to face her team. “Tristan, try to contact Dimitri and tell him what happened; also, try to figure out the building that she blew up just now. Eidanne, start coordinating with our Nymphs. We need eyes on every potential target Chelsea could be referring to.”

She paused, her gaze shifting to Cerberus. “And you, keep the perimeter secure. No one gets in or out without our knowledge.”

Cerberus nodded, already moving toward the door. “Understood.”

As the team sprang into action, (Y/n)’s thoughts turned inward. Chelsea’s games were always twisted, but this was different. This was personal. The clock was ticking, and the city’s fate rested on their shoulders.