A/N: Here we are again, pretending I have an upload schedule and that I'm always around like a good person.

Very much am. Is always here. Am omnipotent.

Ah well. Enjoy the chapter.

You guys are the best.

—/—\—/—\—

"No! No! No! Stop! Stop! Stoooop!" She screeched, but it was all for naught as she watched the woman before her end up tumbling forwards, slamming into the desk before her and all but wiping it's surface clear of everything that was on it. She watched in a careful and ever so delicate mix of morbid realization and dreaded curiosity. She slammed her hands into her face at an unsafe speed as the woman before her tried ever so desperately to keep anything else from going wrong.

Only for the entire desk to buckle under her total weight, leaving the woman sitting on top of a mess that she never could have imagined not even thirty seconds ago.

"I'm gonna take it that that wasn't supposed to happen like that." Kara reasoned from the sidelines, Olivia offering a noise of agreement as the two women only watched what could aptly her described as controlled chaos. And then promptly ducked as the metal pipe came flying at them, Kara pulling Olivia down in a careful but quick way as it slammed into the wall behind them, Kara quick on the return. "CHUCHKI!" She screamed.

"FUCK OFF!" Chuchki returned, offering the woman a gesture involving a single middle finger raised and nothing else to give. It was a gesture that Olivia had taught the Empress rather soon after meeting her, and Chuchki very much adored it. "No one asked you to be here anyways, and it's not like I need it!" She yelled back.

"Evidence is telling me a whole other Novel." Kara replied.

"Story." Olivia corrected quietly.

"Story!" Kara hastily added.

"Go fuck yourselves." Chuchki responded before turning her attention to the woman now laid out on the broken table, for a reason completely out of her control. Chuchki rubbed her face with both of her hands in turn, groaning into them in a loud and undignified way before letting one drop to her side as the other rested on the top of her head. "Habba...?"

"...sorry." The large woman quietly added from her position on the ground. Chuchki only looked over a moment longer before sighing, making her way towards the woman. But she stopped midway as Arctic moved past her, towards the downed woman, leaning over as she offered her a hand. Good thing too, Chuchki knew, simply put because she herself couldn't begin to compare in strength wise with Habba. She watched as Habba took the offered hand, pushing herself off of the ground and wreckage of what had once been the table or desk as she brushed herself off. "...sorry."  She told again.

Arctic simply chuckled as she brushed a bit off of the woman herself. "You're quite alright, I assure you." The Queen told her. "Doesn't look like too much beyond the table was broken and I've no doubt in my mind that Chuchki can replace what was. My concern is getting you out of these heels that Chuchki insisted you simply must wear."

"My Queen!" Chuchki called indignantly. Arctic only offered a sparing chuckle, the tone in her voice dancing a line somewhere between apologetic and amused, she eventually offered her Empress a surrender.

"Yes, yes, I know the heels were my idea." She offered as she guided Habba towards a seat that would provide for the woman. Easing Habba down, trying not to wince every time the woman's strength came baring down on her wrist or hand, this finally allowed Habba the means to remove the heels.

"Why did you have her wear heels if you yourself go barefoot most of the time anyways?" Liv asked from the side, where she was still standing next to the Kara. The Empress nodded her agreement and curiosity at the reasoning in turn, the two and Chuchki looking to Arctic. There was a harmless silence between the group of them as Arctic watched Habba remove the heels herself before shrugging.

"I rather thought it would be fun." The Queen offered, looking to the group of them for a moment.

Chuchki's agitation surged as she immediately turned to her Queen.

"OUT!" Chuchki demanded as she began push against the woman, somewhat briefly catching Arctic off guard as she moved her Queen towards the door. The woman holding the title of Queen looked surprised for a few moments, what with Chuchki's hands planted firmly in the mid of her back as the Empress's strength got her a fairway before Arctic stood against her, her own strength stopping Chuchki in her tracks.

"Oh please Chuchki! I can behave!" Arctic cried as she pushed against her Empress.

"I will not have you afflicting another one of our forces with your damned heel fetish, you monster!" Chuchki replied without hesitance. Arctic laughed at that as she relented again ever so slightly, Chuchki pushing her further towards the door. At the outburst though, Olivia blinked.

She'd never seen any of the Arctic forces wearing heels.

Leaning over to Kara, she whispered to the Empress.

"Do the Abyssals... wear heels?" She slowly asked, suddenly wary of her own heels that she had within her closet. Kara paused somewhat at that, as if she was debating the answer for a few moments before nodding.

"We do." Kara told her, somewhat hesitantly.  "Though none of our own forces do. There are princesses within the ranks of Atlantic and Southern that do, and some of their defected forces do." She told her. "But none of our core forces adorn them." She confirmed.

"So then how does-"

"Her Ladyship is an odd one, Olivia. I assume at least that much is an easy sight to grasp." Kara offered, giving a sidelong glance to the girl. Olivia paused at that, mulling it over before nodding ever so slightly. The Empress had a point and ever since she'd met her, Olivia thought of the Arctic Queen as a eccentric aunt if anything. She'd say sister, but thinking of an Abyssal as a sister still rang wrong with her in a way.

"You speak of my interests as if they were a disease!" Arctic laughed in return as she was pushed towards the door.

"A disease I will not stand you infecting anyone else with! Greenland is already a forgone cause and look what monstrosity she's become!" Chuchki fired back. "I remember when she was all so sweet and down to Earth!" She told her. Arctic laughed  at that.

"I did not expect one simple hour of fun to change her so drastically." She reasoned.

"All the more reason to cut off the head of the snake before it grows!" Chuchki snapped back, pushing Arctic further towards the door. Arctic cackled at that a moment before pivoting, away and out of the Empress's hold. She immediately offered her hands in a defensive manner.

"I promise Chuchki, from here on out, I will not cause any further issues." Arctic assured her.

"Does that include a shut mouth?" Chuchki snapped. Arctic simply hummed in her own, fascinated amusement.

"Someone certainly woke up on the wrong side of the ocean today." The Queen mused to herself as she turned back towards Habba, Chuchki offering only a flurry of her dramatic fashion before she did as well. Gesturing to the woman, she once again had her stand, this time her feet free of the heels that Arctic had so insisted on before hand. Chuchki offered another lasting glance at the Queen a moment longer before looking back to Habba.

"Stand for me again." Chuchki told the woman as she idly glanced at the mess next to them. Turning her attention back on Habba, she stepped back a ways as the woman stood to her full height, this time on even footing and with nothing preventing it. Chuchki paused a moment, as if to air on the side of caution if anything else, before she allowed herself a relaxed breath and a lowered guard when Habba didn't go plummeting to the ground once again, much less into a desk filled with Chuchki's own belongings. "What I don't understand is why we have to pick something for her resembling armor? She's easily, without a doubt, the heaviest armored thing on the water. And for good reason." Chuchki reasoned, shaking her head somewhat. Habba glanced down at Chuchki before looking to Arctic.

"Because as her armor may be something only really devised in a Fairytale made real for reasons still unknown, we can not simply send her to fight those who would do us and the humans harm in only her birthday suit, as much as the idea would likely cause confusion among the ranks of both allies and enemies alike." Arctic reasoned.

"Please....?" Habba added her support to that of Arctic. Chuchki sighed heavily, rubbing her face at that for a moment before she nodded, the logic all there for her sake.

"Fine." She reasoned, this more to herself than her Queen or anyone of the like. "But why are we picking what she wears?" Chuchki asked, looking over Habba's information a moment before looking to Arctic. "She has more strength than you, your majesty. Is she not entirely able of picking something on her own accord? Decent or not? At the very least?" She questioned. Arctic seemed to offer the Empress a pause at that, as if she were thinking over it on her own accord, which she was. And the more she thought it out, the more she realized that Chuchki had a point.

Habba was neither young nor naive.

Inexperienced sure, but that was above and far from equaling naivety or innocence, at least in this regard. At her very deepest, Habba was a war machine, originally intended to fill her role and duty to the letter. And in her wintry core, Arctic knew that. Habba was no younger sister to dote on or some charity case that needed to be kept up with. Habba had made her case and Arctic had accepted it.

"There's a point there, I'm sure." Arctic finally replied. "Though if Habba will dress herself, there are still requirements that must be met. Such as decency. Revealing more than needed is acceptable, but treading on the territory of bare will not pass." The Queen offered to the air. Habba blinked before a look somewhat matching horror crossed her features.

"I-I-I would never!" Habba all but shrieked. Arctic presented a small, amused smile at the outburst.

"Oh I'm very much aware, but it needed to be said. Sure, as of now, you're against and taken aback by the idea. But months, years down the road, how can we be sure the same could be said? Why, there may come day when I, your beloved and ever so innocent Queen, may stand before you and not even have a chance of recognizing you with how much you've changed." Arctic offered. "Oh what I would do with myself in my worry, knowing that one of my valued subordinates changed so drastically!" She faux-cried.

Habba giggled as Chuchki rolled her eyes, the motion and movement sending an exaggeration of annoyance down her form.

"I doubt that's so very easy as you put it." Chuchki offered. Arctic only offered the flicker of her haze in response, her eyes gradually finding the Empress.

"You'd be surprised." Arctic offered in a simple tone, watching the Empress a moment. But before even Chuchki could reply, Arctic clapped her hands in surprise. "Anyways, back to our original point of discussion. Yes I know, but it needed to be said, if for anything else then just me. Do not go out on the water bare. For the reason of if you ever have to or are sent to assist the human fleet's or the like, I would think it preferable if you didn't simply go flashing them as it were. They do have some of their forces, physically at least, representing the younger side of the chronological spectrum." She reasoned.

"I....?" Habba trailed off, titling her head in a far too adorable way for a woman that was over seven feet tall.

"They're kids." Chuchki clarified. "Or, kids by human standards."

Habba looked mortified at the prospect of someone so young seeing so much.

Olivia looked confused, turning her attention to the Empress next to her, Kara still focused on the three before them.

"What does she-" Olivia tried.

"Not now." Kara replied sharply.

Olivia's curiosity deflated, shoulders slumping.

Kara's sudden smirk was well hidden as she watched the girl out of the corner of her eye.

"Exactly." Arctic clarified. "You were already in agreement, but the stakes have been stated and cleared." She told her. When Habba nodded at that, the Queen nodded in return. "But with that being said, I-"

"ARCTIC!" Someone from somewhere down the corridor yelled, accompanied by approaching, rapidly at that, footsteps.

Habba and Olivia jumped, Chuchki doing her best to stabilize the giant of a woman in the even of another potential timber, and Kara with Olivia with the simple motion of a hand placed on her arm, the icy touch of the Empress shocking Olivia more than the sudden outburst.

But the Queen, whose eyes all of them prospered and lived under, simply turned her head with all the calculated grace of a school teacher, far too done in with her students rowdy and above acceptable noise levels. She watched as her own Empress, Wander, all but skated into the room hot on her own heels, Arctic arching a pale brow as she did so.

"Wander?" Arctic finally asked, her own sense of morbid curiosity finally wrestling away any kind of reluctance or conclusions she might've reached before the words came. "What is it? The only one who screams like that is Chuchki, and those are few and far between with Greenland and White deployed."

Chuchki huffed her annoyance, but she'd yet to voice disagreement.

"S-scouts-" Wander tried, panting for breath. Arctic frowned somewhat.

It took a lot for an Abyssal to find themselves winded like this. Taxed, sure. Limited, of course. But Winded was a whole other course, entirely different subject. It was as if Wander had been sprinting her way across the water to-

Alarm bells started blaring in Arctic's mind, her body bristling. The signs did not get by Chuchki or Kara unnoticed, the latter standing a little straighter, the former's scowl deepening.

"Wander." Arctic spoke, her friendliness got in an instant, her tone demanding an answer. "Have we been discovered?" She questioned. It took a moment before Wander shook her head in a frantic way.

"S-scouts. In the South Atlantic." Wander clarified. Arctic sighed somewhat, her body relaxing somewhat. They hadn't been discovered, weren't under threat as of yet. But that still didn't explain what had Wander in such a mess, and more so than that-

"The South Atlantic? Why the fuck are our scouts in the South Atlantic? That's treading on Southern's territory, let alone Atlantic's main kingdom body. What reason or purpose do we have to be down there, more so what reasons do you have for letting it continue? No, scratch that. What are your reasons for having to started in the first place? Atlantic's a psychotic, sociopathic monster. But she's not stupid and neither are her forces." Chuchki supplied. "How are you getting this by her?" She demanded- no, that wasn't quite right, Arctic knew. Chuchki was by and far a demanding person, reasons being known to her all of the explanation she would ever need.

"Chuchki does have a point, Wander."

"Defectees." Wander answered. "A pair of sisters they call themselves." Even though it wasn't likely. "Princesses, only weeks into our forces. They assured me that they could circumvent patrols and warning networks within Atlantic's territory, and at the very end, I didn't have reason not to take their word. They're stationed at one of our lower Front Line bases, agreed by us inconsequential if it was lost, and the other Princesses there are yours by loyalty and creation anyways. If anything, they're killed and dealt with by me and them if things should get-"

"Wander." Arctic gently prodded, both to cut the ramblings short and to get to the point. Wander was good, one of her best, but even quality did not justify time being wasted if she would need to act.

"Right. Sorry." Wander winced externally before leveling herself out with a calming breath. "They told me could, and the potential positives outweighed potential negatives. I sent them out a week and half ago." She told her, her voice steeling. "They came back three ago. With news." She told her, looking up to her Queen.

"And their news?"

"They found Nordic." She told her.

But her words culled the noise in the room to a quiet, insidious kind of silence taking it's place.

"They're sure?"

"It took a while to figure out what they were trying to tell me, trying to get across." Wander admitted after second. "It was dark; conditions were beyond poor. I didn't realize what they were on about until they mentioned a darkened haze and the sound of chains." Wander reported. "At first they thought it was just part of the storm, part of the area. That was before one of the chains snapped for them." Wander further explained.

"And they lived?" Chuchki asked with a gaze now filled with more curiosity than Wander had seen before.

"Apparently." Wander offered. "Look, I know how this looks. But the Princesses in question aren't even two years deployed." She told them.

"Not long enough to know about Nordic otherwise." Arctic agreed. "Given that she vanished decades ago. And I highly doubt that Atlantic decided that gushing about an Empress thought lost to us is a valuable use of her time."

"Could be." Chuchki murmured darkly. "Might save us a fuckin headache or two if she'd gain a bit more brain activity. Might spare us a few insanity fueled clashes here and there, lest we actually find a good use for our time." She spat, her usual irritable mood coming back to her. But even still, even then, she couldn't- "Are we sure? Hundred percent sure that it was actually her? And not the tides playing their tricks?"

"I only know what they told me. And it was shaky at best. But if not Nordic-"

"Then there's another Abyssal out there with startlingly similar abilities to our own wayward Empress and that in of itself is a thought I don't want to spend any time on. Do they know what she was doing? What her purpose was out there?" She questioned. Wander opened her mouth to answer, but stopped at the last second as her gaze landed on Olivia. In turn, Arctic's and Chuchki's gaze slowly traveled to the girl as well, prompting Kara to come to a stand in front of the girl defensively.

Eventually, Arctic got the message.

"Kara. Olivia. Leave us." Arctic she ordered. Kara opened her mouth to respond to it, already tipping her head towards a bow, but Olivia asked her curiosity first.

"Why? Cant we know as well?" The girl questioned. Kara looked at her in surprise a moment, Arctic shaking her head.

"Kara will be briefed on it later to be sure. You however, I hold no such intentions with." Arctic supplied. "You are a guest here, Olivia, you and your family both. We welcome you with open arms, but you are not entitled to information deemed critical to the Throne or Kingdom." She told her.

"But I live here!" Olivia fired back.

"Yes, you do, and you and your sister both are a joy to have around. But you once lived in the United States. Tell me, did the Pentagon simply come around sharing their secrets and intelligence with you simply because you were American?" She inquired.

"Well, no.... But I thought-"

"Thought what? Olivia, you are here because of a War. A war that is our first and foremost focus." Arctic snapped icily. "I appreciate the thought that you think we've done quite the job making you feel at home, but your current home is a base marked with Rebellion and betrayal by a majority of our Race. And as such, you are not entitled, not guaranteed everything that is said within these walls. Now go." She ordered. "Before I decide to remove you myself." She told her before turning away, back towards Wander. Chuchki watched her with a lazed, but edged expression as Kara began to work on getting her moving.

When the door closed behind them, Arctic shook her head. "Brat." The Queen said.

"Hardly fair." Wander supplied.

"Hardly wrong." Chuchki countered. "But this isn't about Olivia, as good intentioned as she may be."

"No. It's not." Arctic agreed. "Nordic. What was she doing?"

/\/\

"We weren't sure." Iroise offered quietly. The Empress didn't shake or flinch as an armored hand collided with the rest of the Throne, her Queen offering only her own aggravation at the news. But it was quieter than normal, reeled in from the usual psychotic break that Iroise knew her Queen so common for.

"My Queen?" Scotia asked carefully, unsure of what her response would be.

Atlantic didn't offer a response, instead electing to grind her armored hand against the rest of her throne, her body bristling with anger.

Why? Why now? She'd figured Nordic long dead and gone, given Arctic's apparent reluctance to deploy the Empress. Apparently though, that had been a bluff, concealed just as well as Nordic herself had been. But that didn't make sense either, what with Nordic having been spotted within her own territory and not in the high North. Not only that, but Atlantic liked to think that she at least had an understanding of how Nordic thought, how she looked at a problem. It'd been more than a few centuries, but Atlantic had been apart of her training alongside the other three Combat queens. Southern had offered her own wisdom of course, more from a tactical standpoint if anything, but nothing palpable like what she herself, Indian, or Pacific had bestowed her with.

And that didn't even begin to describe what Arctic had put her through.

Atlantic's thought process simply rounded back in on itself at that thought, nothing making sense to her or about the situation. It was in Nordic's blood, who she was at her core to not avoid a fight unless a reason had been presented to her that was deemed acceptable. But that still made no sense to her, not with Nordic popping up in the Caribbean of all places.

"Are we sure it was her?" Atlantic asked for confirmation yet again. Iroise paused momentarily before shrugging.

"Truthfully, no." Iroise offered. "But our forces descriptors seem to almost match entirely and I've had my ass beaten by Nordic in trainings way back when enough, I'd like to think it was." The Empress told her.

"She did more than beat your ass if memory serves correct." Scotia added dryly from the side.

"Wonder if we look hard enough, maybe we can find that handprint you wouldn't answer us about." Marlin offered. "It's been what? 200 years? Surely it's still there, what with how long Nordic had you". The Empress laughed. "Maybe we should-"

"Quiet!" Mediterranean snapped, interrupting and in turn shutting the Empress up, both with a word and glare. Marlin huffed, her hands going to her hips as Iroise and Scotia offered quiet chuckles of their own, but even they only lasted for a second longer before Mediterranean's gaze leveled them too, the three empresses quieting down as the fourth turned her attention to the one they knew as Queen.

The number of times Mediterranean could count where Atlantic had been as quiet, as calm as she was being now were... well, they were few and far between, given that this was the first time the Empress had seen it. Sure, she'd seen her calm, collected before. That wasn't new. But this startled silence, careful words and hesitation to speak was new. She watched as the Atlantic queen all but sat on her throne, as if she were considering the weight of the world itself.

"My Queen?" Mediterranean pushed ever so slightly, wondering just how much she'd need-

None, surprisingly enough, as Atlantic responded immediately to the call, the Queen's gaze falling upon her empress.

"Call back any idle forces or fleets we have deployed. Shore up our territory lines and make sure our forces are properly supplied and repaired." Atlantic told her. But Mediterranean wasn't new, wasn't a fool. It wasn't cowardice, wasn't panic, it wasn't hesitation hiding in Atlantic's voice, under each and every word. It wasn't those, but Mediterranean... wasn't exactly sure what it was.

"My Queen, our forces are ready and willing." Mediterranean supplied, glancing to her before looking to her fellow Empresses. The three of them too were a little out of their depth, Iroise most of all.

Sure, the Empress knew of Nordic, which was more than she could say for any of Indian's Empresses. She knew how she could be, how well she could fight, how dangerous she was. She'd killed opponents in training before the five queens, she'd brought down Princesses for little more than a sense of amusement. Nordic was known, both by quality of who she was, and a quantity of lives she'd brought to an end. Intelligence from Southern told them there'd been three ships of Human make, obviously.

Southern's need to categorize everything down to the last bolt was infuriating at the best of times.

But the Queen was second to no one in that regard, Iroise knew and reluctantly admitted. And she wasn't about to question another Queen so openly either, not with the idea and fate of Timor speaking so loudly In her memory.

But it also wasn't Indian who had killed her she knew.

Iroise took a careful glance at Atlantic.

Maybe the Southern Kingdom was recruiting.

Immediately, Iroise shook her head, dismissing that line of thinking. If she was worried about being killed by a Queen, treasonous thoughts against her own Queen wouldn't help her in the slightest, spoken or otherwise. And she knew if she let them linger, she'd start acting odd, drawing the gazes of both Empresses and her Queen unto her, not something she wanted. She wasn't Atlantic's pet in anyway, but she did enough to earn Atlantic's favor when it mattered.

"There were three ships?" Atlantic questioned, bringing Iroise's thoughts from her own mind to the present. "And Southern told us they were occupied by humans. Yet, when Nordic was spotted, the three ships were still, unmoving." The Queen reasoned, Mediterranean nodding at her statements and questions. "Then that begs me the question, where did the humans go? Southern says one ship could have held over a hundred souls, and even with Nordic killing them, if that's what she did, where did they go? There'd be evidence wouldn't there? Of something?" She questioned.

"Unsure. We never actually got a chance to inspect them while she was there nor after she left. Her Demon...." Mediterranean trailed off. Atlantic's only response was a slammed fist and an agitated sigh.

"Damn Arctic. And Damn her Demon." The Queen spat.

Iroise understood the agitation in her Queen's voice, understood why she had a problem. Every Empress had an Abyssal demon that served they and they alone, with them and to the bitter end. Iroise's own demon was well sized she supposed when comparing it to others, especially to the Empresses under Indian's service. But theirs, hers, most paled in comparison to Nordic's demon she knew. The humans even had a tall tale based on it, but for the life of her, Iroise couldn't recall it. And she definitely wasn't about to ask Atlantic or anyone within arm's reach about it.

Iroise just hoped that the other Kingdoms were better adjusting to this news.

——/—\——

Bering and Philippine nearly jumped right out of their skins as their Queen slammed a gauntleted fist into the wall only mere feet above their heads. Philippine simply slumped to the ground as Bering scrambled for the relative safety of a few feet away as the Queen's fist eventually fell free of the wall, metal flaking somewhat as it tightened.

"I thought she was dead!" Pacific howled in a flowing rage. Celebes watched Bering and Philippine a moment before shaking her head somewhat, crossing her arms as she looked to her Queen, uncaring of the temper bubbling to the surface before her.

"We thought, sure. But Southern's intel never included a body report or anything of the like. And we know that. She herself said it." Celebes told her. "It was never a confirmed thing, simply a theory or a hypothesis, I can't remember which." She admitted.

"What I don't get." Koro began. "Is why are we worrying about this? Yes, it's Nordic. Yes, she herself is nothing short of an Eldritch Abomination in terms of raw ability, but she was spotted in the South Atlantic. That's not exactly Arctic's front door and there's nothing to show that she's going to flee home." She reasoned. Pacific shook her head.

"Nordic has always been fiercely loyal to the Arctic Throne, to the Kingdom....." Pacific sighed. "And to her Mother." The Queen said. Koro chuckled as Celebes rolled her eyes.

"Yes, please remind all of us lowly empresses that we aren't worth love and please remind us all over again that we were tank bred while Nordic had the oh so satisfying introduction to the world straight from the Traitor's womb." Celebes offered, Koro shuttering at the thought.

"Why would anyone subject themselves to that? To having a... parasite within you? Growing? Feeding off of you?" She questioned. Koro shivered again as even Celebes had a light scowl at the thought. "It's a fucking miracle that humanity has survived this long." The Empress huffed. Celebes nodded but Shantar interrupted her.

"Because some people find motherhood very fulfilling, Koro." Shantar offered.

"Where are they?" Koro questioned. "I've got a gun. I'll solve the problem real fast." Koro offered, much to Shantar's sudden and very real disbelief. Koro laughed at the expression as Celebes offered a glance to Pacific, who was simply watching the few of them with a mild sense of both annoyance and amusement.

"What drove Arctic to take that route anyways?" Celebes questioned. "Sure, Nordic's a certified killer. But why use her own body for it? It would have been fine if Nordic had been tank bred like the rest of us." She questioned.

"This is the same woman that decided bringing Chuchki to the land of the living was a good idea." Koro offered. "For anyone. Which, news flash, it wasn't." The Empress offered. Pacific rolled her eyes at that, Koro tensing somewhat at the movement of her Queen before Pacific offered only a shake of the head as she eased herself onto her Throne.

"Arctic has always been the pragmatic one." The Queen offered.

"There is nothing pragmatic about knocking yourself up with experimental sciences." Celebes retorted. "Or are you taking this stance because Nordic's just as much your little girl as she is Arctic's?" The Empress offered. Pacific narrowed her eyes at the Empress, Celebes having the decency to look away as Koro blinked.

"WHAT?!" The Empress bellowed. Shantar laughed somewhat from her place at Pacific's side, the Queen then shifting her gaze to Shantar, who immediately clammed up. After she did, Pacific offered a grunt of affirmative. "You're... you're Nordic's mother?" Koro asked with some surprise. Pacific only offered Celebes another narrow eyed stare, Celebes pointedly looking away as she did so, before Pacific settled back into her Throne.

"Mother's not the right word." Pacific admitted.

"Father." Shantar supplied helpfully. But her laughter at her own joke was quelled before it could start by another glare from her Queen, coupled with a heavy fist pushing her from her spot, the other four empresses present chuckling as Shantar collided with Celebes to stop herself.

"Arctic asked the other Queens to provide their DNA for a project, but she wouldn't say what it was. Our Queen agreed first." Celebes summed up, recalling the whole ordeal all too easily. Koro wasn't convinced though, glancing at her Queen a moment. "And then, the next thing anyone knew, Arctic was thick with child."

"...Really?" Koro asked, disbelieving. Pacific offered a quiet sigh, but she nodded despite herself.

"Yes." The Queen answered. "She kept details away, kept any possibilities away from the other Kingdoms. A secret to her and her alone, much like we find ourselves today. But it wasn't out of malice or betrayal like Arctic has subjected us to in today's age. Simply her kind of harmless fun."

"I do not believe knocking yourself up qualifies as Harmless fun." Shantar surmised from the side, hands behind her back as she rocked from side to side.

"Arctic's kind of harmless fun has never been what one would call Harmless nor fun to the wrong kind of people." Pacific corrected. "But she was convinced and determined."

"Convinced of what? That she was stupid?"

"Convinced that she could make a new kind of Empress."

"How in the depths was she convinced of that?" Koro demanded. Pacific sighed, the reason behind it well known to her, but not so much to others. It also brought bile to the back of her throat at the thought of it, and the simple fact that it had proved true.

"Human Philosophy." She admitted, reluctantly. Celebes only smirked, being that of Pacific's oldest Empress and one of the oldest in Empresses in general, this was as much her history as it was Pacific's. Koro however looked at her Queen like she was insane, and even Shantar looked at the matriarch with queasiness in her form, an ideal that Pacific would mirror gladly.

"HUMAN!? FUCKING!? PHILOSOPHY!?" Koro demanded. A well timed glare however from Pacific brought her Empress back in line, the decibel of her voice erased in a retreat as Koro bowed her head in apology.

"Yes, as much as it pains me to admit it, Human Philosophy." She told them. "What ideals or which truths, I can't say nor will I spend the time trying to pick them out of a line up." She sighed. "But it was Arctic's focus, even when she was pregnant with Nordic."

"Pregnant." Koro echoed. "Pregnant." The Empress shivered. "Sounds like a word of pain if you ask me."

"I can't say how right or wrong you are, Koro." Pacific agreed. "But it was Arctic's belief that she herself could create a new Empress. And the results, most of us know, is that she was right. Nordic was... is a proper and right monster of creation, born from another. Arctic thought Might made Right. And Nordic is embodiment of that In full."

"Nordic is the embodiment of Genocide, my Queen." Celebes put in turn. "Koro wasn't alive and Shantar was barely out of the pools, but I was there. And so were you. We watched what she did to that Countryside as nothing more than a training put forth by Arctic. She bled those villages dry, erased them from history. Whatever Arctic strive to achieve with Nordic exactly, she bypassed her intentions by about ten times over." The Empress told her. Pacific nodded in half agreement at that; more than well aware of just what Celebes was talking about. But that's about when Bering and Philippines finally seemed to join back into their conversation.

"W-what if Nordic goes back to the Arctic Kingdom?"

"Nordic's loyalty to the Arctic Throne has never been in question, either by Arctic herself or the other Kingdoms. Myself included. There will be at least some facet of this war that includes Nordic making a return to the Arctic territories, assuming that she's not already been in connection with them long before now." Pacific reasoned. "But if that's the case, as unlikely as it is, we would've seen some evidence of Nordic up until this point. It's not likely that Arctic would've simply allowed Nordic to live amongst her forces and not commit something to the Northern war effort. Arctic wouldn't allow it. If you're not giving her something, Arctic won't give you anything."

"You're certainly not wrong." Celebes offered, glancing to her Queen. "But how do we know Arctic will retain her hold on Nordic after so long? After all, Nordic has your DNA as well. She's just as much an Empress of the Pacific Kingdom as she is to the Arctic."

"She is, and if at any time where the reality is likely to come to fruition, the Pacific Kingdom will welcome Nordic with open arms. But it's unlikely. In all honesty, the best chance we can hope for is that Nordic usurps the Throne from her mother in a fashion that even I have myself unbelieving it possible." Pacific reasoned. "If I know Arctic, she'll kill Nordic at the slightest sign of betrayal."

"That's... a bold assumption." Shantar reasoned. Pacific and Celebes glanced at the Empress for a moment before Celebes shrugged her shoulders.

"I suppose that's not exactly common knowledge if I think too hard about it." Celebes recalled. "What Nordic's exact purpose was. Or, at least the one Arctic supplied us."

"Nordic... had a purpose?" Koro questioned.

"Nordic was intended to... deal with any of the other four Queens who attempted to defy any of Arctic's wartime orders or demands. An enforcer, if you will." Pacific reasoned. "Of course, I'd no knowledge of this going in when I offered myself for the project, but even after learning the truth, it changed nothing." Pacific offered. "When she says Queens, it's likely she meant keeping the Atlantic and Indian kingdoms in her favor." The Queen reasoned. Koro shook her head in some confusion.

"Her Wartime efforts? What?" Koro asked confused.

Pacific eyed the Empress a moment, resting a hand against her cheek.

"You do know the war is of Arctic's Design, yes?"

A brief moment of silence.

"WHAT?!"

—/—\—/—\—

"Unlikely." Southern told her Empress as she and the three of them looked over the Map laid out before them. Mawson looked up at her Queen in some surprise from the trail she'd been laying out, struggling to find her voice.

"But-"

"Nordic would not cut through Atlantic's territory that far North without being spotted and she certainly didn't come towards our lines. We would've been able to keep her within our lines of sight, she would not have simply vanished like that." Southern explained. "Nordic may have been missing for more than a few decades, but I doubt that she would simply allow herself to become so careless in her time away." The Queen quietly explained. Mawson closed her mouth at the explanation before pulling away from the path she'd drawn out. However, it was far from the first one that put Nordic sprinting through the Atlantic to the North, to her presumable ultimate goal. The Empress let out a small huff of annoyance at being sent all the way back to square one, back to the point where they'd lost sight of Nordic. Southern offered only a hand on the Empress's head a moment before turning her attention in full back to the map before them, her eyes darting over it.

Across the map, expanding from the point where they'd lost Nordic, were dozens of potential paths that the wayward Empress may have taken. From paths taking her around what the humans knew as Florida and down around the Southern Continent they called South America, a disservice if Southern was being honest, and out into the Pacific all the way to a path that suggested that Nordic had simply dove, into the depths of the Bermuda and simply vanished from then on. But Southern refused all of them on principle.

She looked over the map again, quiet and studious, as she traced each path that they'd drawn out before them. Each one, each turn and bend only to shake her head.

Southern exhaled in dramatic fashion as she turned from the Map a moment, walking away from where'd they set it up for their use as she ascended the few jagged steps to her Throne, resting a hand on the rest as she eased herself into the jagged and cracked, black and white, piece of metal that settled itself under her as she eased her down into it.

Southern prided herself on knowing, knowing what was, what is, and what will. She prided herself on knowing the Kingdoms, from the inner workings of her own to how the other four Queens would lead theirs. Knowledge was her domain, was her very being. She was the Spy Queen for a reason, nothing hidden, everything known.

She could read Atlantic and Indian like open books, planning along and around them if they need would arise one day. She knew and categorized each of their Empresses, how they acted, how they fought. Southern supposed this was the reason that she was so combat incapable comparing that with the rest of their race. Knowledge in of itself was a weapon, one that she knew Indian or Atlantic would never wield properly, yet they were far from the only ones involved here.

Pacific was a bit harder than the first two, but only because she didn't wear whatever she was thinking on her face like Indian did. Nor did she let someone know what she was thinking with simply body movements like Atlantic did so easily. She played her thoughts and mind close to the chest, but not so much to a point where Southern found it annoying to try and plan with or around. It's how Pacific had been since she'd taken her own respective throne and place at the head of her Kingdom, and if Southern was being honest, she preferred it that way. At least someone provided her with some challenge.

But that's where the challenge stopped and the headaches started.

Southern's fist clenched at the thought of the fifth kingdom, the traitors of the North.

The amount of defectees alone that had run for the high North alone was a fact that refused to relent within the Queen's mind. She dug her fingers into her throne at the thought. While she hadn't nor would she ever lose as many Princesses as Indian had or would, she'd still lost a number of them to the North. She was careful with information and who possessed it in her forces though. Likely, nothing substantial was passed to the Arctic Kingdom, but that only went so far given that everything was substantial in War. She doubted however that the other three Kingdoms were so lucky, Indian especially.

She wondered just how many flaws in their security and supply lines there were in the Kingdom's lines now because of so many Princesses and bulk forces having fled to the North. Indian did not treat most information like a treasure to be kept close to the heart. Honestly, Southern was pretty sure that as long as it netted her a bigger fight, Indian would be willing to offer the humans information.

Where had it all changed? Where had it all gone so differently from what she knew? She'd known Arctic not nessecarily as a friend, but she knew her to be someone that could be relied upon to get things done. And then the next thing she knew, Atlantic's and Pacific's borders were under assault by the North Kingdom and any attempts to contact the Arctic kingdom went unanswered, ignored, or unreturned.

There was no deception, no questionable moves, no sudden reluctance to proceed as things had. At the drop of a hat, the Arctic Kingdom had immediately gone rogue and deemed the other four kingdoms no longer relevant or substantial enough for them. There was just all at once betrayal.

And now, five years after the start of this war, Nordic had made her reappearance after not being seen for close to 80 years. Southern wondered what the significance was, what she wasn't seeing before her. If the Arctic kingdom was about to make a move, for the first time, Southern would openly admit that she didn't know what or how this was going to go. What to expect.

Her empresses offered their Queen cautious glances even as Mawson and Haakon worked on drawing up new potential pathing for the suddenly returned Empress. Even with just the three of them, they worked quietly and quickly, leaned over the map as as they plotted new courses, Southern watching their work with diligence. Of course, figuring out where Nordic went would be the relatively easy part. She didn't know how much contact Nordic had already had with the Arctic Kingdom since her return, didn't know if it was influential or not. Ideally, Southern knew, getting her own words in with the Empress would be ideal. Either she, preferably she, or Pacific. Pacific wasn't the most savvy of speakers, but she was leagues beyond whatever typically came out of Indian or Atlantic's mouths.

But Southern knew she needed to get her own time with the Empress, to try and convince her of the traitor that the Queen of the North had become. While not over persay, they'd be farther along in the capitulation of humanity and most certainly not providing the humans with breathing room, as dangerous as their northern routes were. It's not like they were moving overzealous amounts of anything, not with those currents, but it was more supply than Southern wanted. And with Arctic's lines, though spread thin in many areas, were reliable. It made any sort of intercepting action against their convoys all but fucking impossible, a right and true pain if Southern was honest here.

She sighed.

Humanity. Nordic. Arctic.

If they could all just up and disappear, it would be something far too giving for Southern's luck, she knew.

"My Queen." Haakson offered quietly from where she stood. Southern's gaze looked up from it's spot of her stomach. With a sigh, Southern hauled herself from her throne as she descended the six or seven steps raising the item from the ground as she came around to Haakson's side, already looking over the path that she'd newly drawn.

Southern traced it's pathing with a thin finger, watching as it slipped between the islands to the south before vanishing somewhere near the border of her territory. Admittedly, there was nothing new to this path than the seven on either sides of it, but it wasn't likely. While not completely impossible, it wasn't likely either. "No." She answered. Haakson's brow furrowed as she turned her attention back to the map, starting back at the original starting point. Southern looked over her shoulder a moment, taking some time to herself to trace some of the other paths presented. Some had Nordic drop off in the Gulf, some of them making a mad dash across the Atlantic. Truthfully, anyone of these could be where Nordic had run to. But it was also a fool's errand to buy into any of them.

Southern knew, that in all likelihood, chasing after this Empress above all else was a fool's errand. Even before her disappearance, before her period of absence, Nordic was a creature of few if any habits. The Queen could recall a time back during the Empress's training, when Nordic would roll down to her territory centuries before, it took Southern 37 attempts to learn just how Nordic was coming down, what path she was taking. It wasn't until years later did she learn that Nordic was hiding and watching for which paths were being watched and was actively circumventing them. She'd only found her the first time because of pure chance and nothing else.

"My Queen..." Mawson said carefully. "Are even sure we can find Empress Nordic?" The empress questioned. Southern turned her gaze to the Empress a moment before looking back down at the map.

"No." Southern answered her. "But in truth, all of this is more to appease my own need in the end, to see if we actually have a chance of finding her." She told the Empress as Haakon and Lazarev continued to pour over the map. Southern watched Lazarev's work as she did so. "We have to try and find Nordic, lest she end up going back to Arctic and putting us in even worse issues. Without Somov, we are already in danger." She offered.

"Will we find Somov?" Mawson asked carefully.

"Most likely."

"Alive?" Came the second.

"Unlikely." Southern offered in truth. Mawson bit back her response in turn as Southern turned her attention back to the map, just as Lazarev was offering up a new pathway.

One that took Nordic to the Panhandle of Florida.

Southern opened her mouth to respond.

But her train of thought closed it for her.

—//—\\—//—\\—

Her laughter echoed through the Throne Room in a way that made the five of them shiver with unease. Her laughter was an anomaly, she'd decided. But none of them dared to look up from their spots before her, kneeling as they did so. No orders came, but the laughter continued.

Eryth hated it.

She knew how to deal with or handle her Queen when she was on a tangent, when her bloodlust peaked. She knew, learned when or where she needed to be or go when it looked like someone's life would be snuffed from this world by her own hands. As her oldest Empress, being only that of a hundred, she'd watched her Queen kill her fellow Empresses, crush them underfoot or snuff them out for enjoyment. And she'd even had a stint when it had been she herself at the hands of her Queen, only moments from death.

Arguably, Eryth was pretty sure she was one of the longest serving Indian Empresses if not the longest. Timor had been close too, Eryth knew, but only because Timor had been smart enough to never directly mouth off around or to Indian herself. Seems she never thought of applying that logic to the other four Queens.

But as Eryth ever so slowly glanced to her left, at Lacca and Red, the hesitation writes across their features. And then to her right, at Zanj and Arabian, taking in their own uncertainty, Eryth offered herself only a brief lapse in judgement before once again her gaze looked forward as the sound of someone shifting before them made itself known, their laughter dying down somewhat as if they were finally reading the room.

They weren't though. Eryth knew Indian wasn't capable of it.

The sound of their Queen shifting in her throne a moment was for a second the only sounds of the room.

"Eryth." Indian spoke, the glee and amusement evident in her features and her voice. The Empress cringed internally, but she did not hesitate to respond to her Queen on the outside, for that would get her killed.

"My Queen." The Empress replied, to the point and straight on. She didn't raise her head, didn't move. She hadn't been told to.

"Tell me." Indian offered gleefully, her tone obtaining almost a whimsical tone to it. "What do you remember of Nordic?" Her Queen asked her, her tone taking on a dangerous sound. Eryth hadn't heard it before to be fair, but it sounded... dangerous.

"Empress-"

"Lady." Indian corrected. Eryth paused somewhat at that before going to continue.

In truth, Eryth had only known Nordic, or at least known of her for little more than twenty years before the Empress in question vanished without a trace to the rest of the kingdoms. If one asked Eryth, she thought it all just some large and  elaborate ruse to keep Nordic in good with the rest of the kingdoms. If she were the one in charge, she'd assume hostile just like the rest of the traitorous north and pursue her too.

"Lady Nordic was not what some may call pleasant from what little I remember of her, my Queen." Eryth offered in short to her Monarch. "But she was strong, proud, efficient in her practices and methods. I regret never getting the chance to personally spar with her." She finished.

Which was a lie. Eryth knew that the Empress in question would square her flat in no time at all with little if any effort. Eryth wasn't Bering or Philippine by any means, but there was a serious gap in power between her and the likes of Nordic. There was even distance between Nordic and capabilities of Laptev or Mediterranean. She'd asked about it once before, and the answer she'd gotten in response was far less satisfactory than she could've been given.

"Raise your heads." Indian ordered, her amusement and glee unwavering. Eryth was the first to do so, followed shortly by the other four. There, they focused on their Queen entirely and without hesitation. When Indian was satisfied that their attention was on her in full, her grin widened ever so slightly as she rested her cheek against her fist as she leaned back in her throne. But her body language, her tone, her expression. It took everything Eryth had to convince herself that the Queen had not been secretly replaced or copied behind closed doors.

Replaced wasn't a likely option, Eryth reasoned. One one capable of that was the Empress Pechora, and she simply didn't possess the combat prowess to take on someone like Indian. Eryth wasn't even sure the Empress could take Southern in fight.

"My Queen?" Arabian quietly questioned.

"I'm in a good mood." Indian said finally, sighing somewhat as she looked between her Empresses. "Which means I'm partial to sharing some time with Humanity." She reasoned. The five Empresses paused somewhat at that, trading glances with one another at that little piece of information.

"My Queen?" Eryth asked cautiously.

"We'll hunt." Indian offered as she stood, the five Empresses still kneeling.

"What vessel-"

"No Vessel." Indian supplied as she licked her lips between her fingers. "We bleed them at the source." Was her response.