For a day they'd talked, laughed, eaten, and drank their fill. The two lovers, the most unlikely pair ever.

One of them, and honorable MI6 agent, now technically promoted to the rank of double-oh-seven, James Bland. Then there was his girlfriend, Kelly Drake. She was a high ranking scientist and commander in Madskull, a research division of Specter itself. A splinter cell, as it were. Over the course of a couple hours Kelly had filled him in on the details of what Madskull's true purpose was really.

The reality shocked him, but he realized he should've seen it coming. Madskull's purpose was to use unorthodox means of science, research, and development that Specter simply did not care to partake in themselves.

Madskull was to take the concept of psychic ability and multiply it through intense training, or a drug. The drug was to give the user a certain ability that could be attributed to something psychic or greater, sheer will. Madskull could not fully test the effects of what they called the 'Pandora's Box' drug, and she could not figure out what Bland's was supposed to be.

Apparently after they'd killed Bond, they stole his body and performed the experiments on him.

Bland decided that he would go after his mother, and that he would systematically destroy Madskull by taking out prominent figures one by one. It didn't matter how they died, as long as they were "in a body bag by the end of the day." Drake agreed to help.

So there they were, trudging through the cold darkness of the Arctic. Warm clothes on their back and a singular goal in their minds.

"Hey Kelly?" Bland said, his voice being a bit muffled by his mouth covering attached to his parka.

"Yeah?"

"Why are we walking?"

"All Madskull vehicles are engineered to self-destruct on a command from headquarters. We'd be dead right now if we took one."

Time passed, walking through the seemingly endless fields of white cold.

"Hey Kelly?"

"Hmm?"

"So you're talking about these psychic powers all the time. What can you do?"

"I didn't say that I went through with the experiment."

"Oh, sorry."

"But... I did go through with it."

"Weird. I guess I just knew."

"Well, I'm able to change people's thoughts to whatever I want. Well, more or less."

"More or less?"

"I can only do big changes while the subject is not conscious."

"Ah."

"So, let's keep walking some more."

That night they set up camp in a cave they'd found. They sat next to each other by the fire.

Their relationship was getting serious, and James liked that. His mission haunted him, but the darkness in his life could be forgotten as he was with her.

Snow crunched outside. James' senses picked it up near-immediately.

"Did you hear that, Drake?"

"I did. Something's wrong. We're miles away from a government research base or anything."

"Madskull."

James took a gun out of his pocket. Kelly did the same.

"Are you ready?" She said.

"I always am. It's impossible to be an agent without feeling as if you're being watched by someone, something. As an agent you always have to be on alert mode, to guard against that something."

A figure stepped in to view, and James' blood ran cold.

It was clad in full white armor. In its hands were two long machetes that it toyed around with, denoting extreme confidence with the weapons. James knew who it was, even underneath the full helmet with mask, he knew for sure that it was Isaac Luther.

"You slut!" Luther yelled. "You take off with Bland here? The guy you were supposed to kill? Very insubordinate. Don't worry; Bland here will be gone before you know it." The big man stepped forward toward Bland.

"Don't bet on it, fatso." Bland said as he fired the gun at the hulking brute. Luther didn't even seem to respond.

"Nice shot. Too bad this armor is bulletproof." He said, he was getting closer.

Kelly's voice manifested itself in his head.

"It's now or never."

James knew she was using her power.

He took the long blade the fight with Bond had given him.

"It's over Bland. This ends tonight." Luther said.

Dual machetes swung at him, Bland dodged and stabbed the knife in to Luther's side.

"Did they ever tell you what I can do Bland?" Luther said, grabbing James' knife and throwing it toward Bland, which he then dodged.

"I can ignore pain. Completely." The hooded figure in the armor said.

James picked up his now extremely bloody knife.

The stood across from each other and a knife plunged in to Luther's side. Then another, and another.

Kelly was throwing knives at him. Each sharp point embedded in his skin and he stormed toward Kelly.

"Don't touch her!" James ran toward Luther, he leaped in front of him and swung at him.

Flurries of blades collided in the air repeatedly.

"Don't you dare touch her!" James said as he repeatedly cut Luther. Luther's vain attempts to counter or parry were met with forceful slashes from Bland.

Then Luther caught James' blade in his armored hand, and in one instant threw him across the room, swinging him by the blade.

"I can't die. Not without killing her." He said. "You have an utter disregard for anything serious! We had something intimate. It's like nothing ever happened between us to you. I'm not going to accept your reality. I'm going to cut you apart."

"No Luther. You're not doing a damn thing." She said, pulling out a blade of her own, and ramming it through the visor on his helmet.

Gurgling sounds came from the inside of the suit, and on that night, Isaac Luther fell dead. Once and for all.

"Why couldn't you just accept that we broke up?" She said, putting a hand on Luther's body. "It's okay, I'm glad we don't have to fight anymore."

The next day they buried the body in the snow.

"I haven't really written a eulogy." James said.

"I have a few words to say." Kelly said.

She stood before the grave.

"Luther was a good man. He really was. He was strong, smart, dedicated. He could always commit, in every way, to what he loved. Even if he hurt people, I believe he thought he was doing the right thing." She walked over next to Bland.

"Do you want to say anything, James?"

"No. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't have anything to say to respect him with. Nothing to grasp on to that would tell anyone about the good man he might have been."

In silence they walked away from the grave, leaving the body of Isaac Luther buried beneath the snow.

That night they camped in another cave as they continued their trek across the Arctic.

"James, not all failed experiments died."

"Why are you bringing this up now?"

"Because I have to warn you. There's a possibility that you'll see one of my... projects. I don't want you to hate me."

"Kelly, I've already made my decision of how I feel about you."

"Good."

"What did you mean by not all of them died?"

"I mean that we created inhuman abominations. We destroyed people all for a stupid secret war."

"Secret war?"

"You heard me. MI6 and Specter, and by association Madskull, have warred between each other for years."

"I guess so."

"Now it's down to the equivalent of gang rivalry. There's no honor, no justice anymore. It's just pawns following orders. I'm tired of that. And all these names like 'M' or 'Q' or 'H' or whatever. What do they have to hide?"

"Their identities. I have to admit, those letter names can get confusing."

That night Bland had a terrible dream.