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Flakes drift softly down, melting the moment they touch a hand. Matches rarely see any weather beyond the usual fog.
Elliot blinks. It’s only a light snow, but it’s been so long since they’ve seen any. The killers seem pleased too—today feels less confrontational. The younger ones especially, like C00lkidd, who’s been glued to 007n7 since the match began.
“Dad! Let’s play together!”
The others kindly give them space. Chance nudges Elliot. “Hey, man, it’s snowing. Wanna do something?” Elliot teases back, “Want me to cook you all a feast?” “Couldn’t ask for more,” Chance replies, twirling his gun.
Elliot’s gaze returns to 007n7. This probably won’t last beyond the match. He watches as Seven… actually smiles. He doesn’t do that often.
Before starting dinner, I should go get him.
The screen fades to black, and when the view clears, they’re in the shack. Elliot sees n7 briefly lost in thought before he steps outside.
Sev opens the door—snow is falling here too. A few flakes land in his hair as Elliot follows him out.
"Seven."
N7 freezes, turning. Elliot stands there watching him, his breath fogging up his glasses. After a moment’s silence, Elliot speaks first.
“Seven, can we talk?”
N7 hesitates, then nods. Elliot walks over, takes his hand, and leads him to the bridge. N7 takes the chance to wipe his glasses.
“Elliot? What is it?” 007n7 turns to him and catches the faint smile on Elliot’s face.
“Well, truth is, I just wanted to invite you to the main house for a meal.”
007n7 pauses, surprised by the simplicity. Their past may be resolved, but they don’t seek each other out often.
“If you don’t mind.”
Elliot looks at him, reaches to brush snow from his shoulder, and notices the scar on his forehead.
“You have something in common with the snow.”
“What?”
Elliot smiles softly. “Hmm… it’s been a while.”
Then, it fades.