At Honda, we decided to stop listening to what Kastu for a moment,

and instead start listening to all the things Hanz do.

They carry scratch, open clothes, zip, chop, spread,

shakes, poor, mix, fix, fold, type, tear.

Isn't it time we gave Hanz a rest?

With Keel's entry, a tailgate that opens with the wave of a foot,

voice controlled into tape and automatically adjusting seats.

The Honda CRB hybrid. What do you think, Hanz?

Honda with power of dreams, available in selected graves.

We were never supposed to be here.

48 kilometers past the Arctic Circle, the lone helicopter near its target.

According to the Classified Report, she'd been graciously given the facility wasn't even supposed

to exist. Even from this angle, it wasn't much of a surprise to see the majority of the structure,

but still covered in ice and debris from explosion.

Meaning rescue would likely take days if not weeks without the right resources.

Even with that added bonus, the chances were slim.

What were the odds that the scientists and other personnel below would even survive

hours with limited oxygen? Beverly knew better than to voice her concerns,

though. Her employers didn't pay her to ask questions. Take samples, catalog the findings,

and eliminate all damaging evidence. That had been her mission statement for the past seven years.

The pilot landed the helicopter near where her envoy was waiting,

as she gathered her belongings, preparing herself for the harsh cold beyond.

...