For once, the fortress had settled into something that almost looked like peace.

The generators hummed evenly, no alarms blared, and nobody was threatening to kill Liz for broadcasting again.  

That alone was progress.

Down in the lower level, Nara Vivienne had practically moved in among Gene’s beloved relics—  

rows of rusted muscle cars, antique convertibles, and war-era bikes all waiting for resurrection.  

She wore grease like makeup and had learned to curse at bolts in at least three languages.  

The air smelled of oil and patience.

Gene leaned on the railing above, coffee in hand. “You’ve been down here every day for a week.”

Nara glanced up, hair tied back, a wrench in her mouth. “Because every single one of your cars is suicidal.”

He smirked. “They just need the right touch.”

> **System:** “Correction: they require complete engine replacement and new wiring.  

>  Current technician performance—exceptional.”

Gene raised an eyebrow. “Did you just compliment someone?”

> **System:** “Affirmative. Technician Vivienne rating—88.  

>  Host emotional satisfaction—67, and rising.”

“Creepy as ever,” Nara muttered, sliding back under the chassis.

At the north annex, Puka McKerson’s corner had transformed too.  

Where there had been cold concrete, now rows of planters and soil trays lined the basement floor.  

LED grow lights buzzed softly overhead.

The old man knelt beside a patch of green sprouts, dirt on his hands,  

his grandchildren laughing as they watered the plants.

Kayla stood at the stairs, arms crossed, impressed despite herself.  

“Not bad for someone who showed up half-dead.”

Puka chuckled. “Used to run a farm, before the world decided it didn’t need farms anymore.  

But the soil still remembers.”

> **System:** “New sector established: North Annex Agriculture.  

>  Overseer: Puka McKerson.  

>  Expected yield: 40% improvement in morale and vitamin intake.”

Alyssa, walking past with her datapad, muttered, “Even the system’s doing poetry now.”

Freya bounced in excitement. “We’ll have real vegetables! Soup with color!”

Kayla rolled her eyes. “You’re all acting like he invented photosynthesis.”

But there was warmth in her voice.

By afternoon, Gene was actually considering the unthinkable—  

a quiet day—  

when the radio crackled.

Liz’s voice came through, surprised for once. “Uh… incoming transmission. Military frequency.”

Gene froze mid-sip. “…You didn’t call them, did you?”

“I swear I didn’t! This one’s from *them*.”

The signal stabilized, and a familiar voice filled the room.

> “This is Major Angel Gates, Restoration Command.  

>  Requesting emergency contact with Hancock Fortress.”

Gene leaned closer. “Oh, no…”

Her voice was tight, urgent.

> “Our expedition into the western unmarked zone failed.  

>  We are retreating with heavy losses.  

>  I’m en route with my second—Lieutenant Mikasa Gates.  

>  We require shelter and resupply. Please confirm clearance.”

Kayla nearly dropped her cup. “She’s bringing company now?”

Reina crossed her arms. “Two Gates, huh? Sisters?”

Liz grinned. “One icy, one sugar-sweet. I can smell the drama already.”

Gene muttered, “We are not hosting a family reunion.”

> **System:** “Incoming government signal verified.  

>  North Annex expansion complete.  

>  Capacity sufficient for two additional occupants.  

>  Evaluation results:  

>  Angel Gates—Rating 90, type: Proud Commander.  

>  Mikasa Gates—Rating 91, type: Sweet Optimist.”

Gene froze. “…You’re evaluating them again?”

> **System:** “Always. Data is love.”

“Stop loving so loud!”

Kayla snorted. “You gonna refuse the government now?”

Gene sighed, rubbing his temples. “No.  

We’ve got trade agreements, remember? And if we say no,  

they’ll probably ‘confiscate’ our coffee beans.”

> **System:** “Admission: host values caffeine more than survival.”

“Exactly.”

He flicked on the mic. “Major Gates, this is Hancock Fortress.  

North Annex is open for temporary shelter.  

Follow the beacon path and keep your weapons holstered.  

We’ll handle the rest.”

There was a pause on the line, then Angel’s voice again—calmer now.

> “Understood, Supplier. Thank you.  

>  And… for what it’s worth, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Liz immediately mouthed “Ooooooh” from across the room.

Kayla rolled her eyes. “Here we go again.”

Gene turned away, muttering, “Don’t start.”

> **System:** “Prediction: internal jealousy levels rising 28%.”

“Stop narrating my life!”

> **System:** “Impossible. It’s my job.”

As the sun dipped behind the wasteland,  

two armored trucks appeared at the gate, engines sputtering, headlights cracked.  

The sisters stepped out—Angel in her gray officer’s coat,  

Mikasa beside her, smaller, smiling despite exhaustion.

Freya waved from the wall. “Welcome back! You look tired!”

Angel nodded stiffly. “You could say that.”

> **System:** “New arrivals logged.  

>  Warning: emotional turbulence expected within 24 hours.”

Gene rubbed his temple again. “Of course it is.”

Because peace at Hancock Fortress never lasted more than half a day—

and the system wouldn’t have it any other way.