The extraction car jolts under a skin of snow, half-buried in the whiteout. Ahead, the artifact pulses in Agnes Bell’s hands, and the air around it tightens like a wire pulled to snapping.
Agnes Bell
If it keeps calling, something will answer.
The Operative braces at the open door, scanning the blizzard with his pistol ready. Mallory hunches low beside the crate, jaw set, one hand on the makeshift charge and the other on the box lid.
The Operative
We do this now, Archer. Safe route, sealed crate, or destroy it if you have to.
Mallory
I am not dying because some cursed lump in a box wants company.
The artifact shivers harder, and a cold pressure rolls through the car. Frost blooms across the metal floor in a thin, crawling sheet.
Sharp Archer
The pulse is stronger near the doorway.
Agnes thrusts the crate toward Sharp Archer, her face pale but steady. The Operative shifts to cover the rear, and Mallory waits on Archer’s call, ready to seal or blow the thing on command.
Agnes Bell
Decide, Sharp Archer. Contain it, or finish it.
“I weakly put my hand out to try to seal it. My magical energy already spent”
SUCCESS (Superb Willpower, rolled +2)
Sharp Archer lifts his hand to the crate and lays two fingers against the artifact's trembling shell. The pulse meets him like a hard knock, then folds inward as his will locks onto it.
Sharp Archer
Too much energy spent. Hold it long enough to close.
The artifact answers with one last shiver, then goes still. Frost stops creeping, as if the car has drawn a single breath and held it.
Agnes Bell
It's sealing. Look at that, the mark is dimming.
The Operative lowers his pistol a fraction, eyes still on the whiteout beyond the door. Mallory's grip eases on the charge, but he does not let go of it.
Mallory
Good. Keep it that way, and I can stop pretending this box is my last will and testament.
Agnes eases the crate lid down. The whispering mark on the dossier page seems to settle with it, and the cold pressure in the car finally backs off.
The Operative
We move quiet from here. No more surprises.
Sharp Archer
It is sealed. Keep it boxed and keep moving.
Agnes Bell
Understood. Crate is shut.
The Operative
Standing down. No further disturbance.
Mallory
You bought us our way out. Rest when we can.
The frost on the floor retreated, and the mark on the dossier went dark. Sharp Archer bore the toll in silence while the others secured the crate and rolled the extraction car into motion. The threat was contained, the summons unanswered, and for this night at least, the war had been kept from something far older.