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Osiris was not suited for the cold. He was made for soaring over the sun bleached sands of Mercury with wings of fire. He would even take the vegetation on Venus over this. Osiris was impressed that this part of Russia could still have a true winter, given the amount of nuclear fallouts over the millenia. He supposed that mankind’s abandonment of the area lended to its eventual recovery.
“Thank you, my love, for indulging me,” Saint said as he clapped his hands together to rid them of ice and snow.
Osiris huddled farther into his multi-layered robe and cowl. “I am a man of my word, am I not?”
Saint laughed. “That you are. Even though it took us many years, I am grateful we are here.”
It was difficult to justify leaving the City for a pleasurable weekend when the fate of humanity hung in the balance. Osiris was still weighing the guilt of leaving with the guilt of delaying this getaway for a few years. He had justified that a few years was nothing when literal centuries were at your disposal in order to absolve himself. That and he could easily justify a weekend of exploring the Russian wilderness for signs of Golden Age relics as more “research” than “romantic”.
Instead of answering, he shoved his gloved hands more firmly into his armpits and circulated Solar Light once more through his body.
“How much longer until the door is cleared?” Osiris asked in a puff of steam.
Saint tilted his helmeted head at the half iced over bunker door. “Five minutes, maybe ten.” He turned his violet lights towards Osiris. “It would go quicker if a certain fiery Warlock helped.”
Osiris grumbled and stamped his boots on the ice. With a shiver, he finally removed his hands from his armpits. He flexed his cold fingers and took a deep breath and then focused his Light into a sword of flame. He stepped towards the door and within just a few moments it began to melt.
Saint cheered when the last of the ice sloughed off. “Thank you, my phoenix!” He rubbed his hands together and then approached the door. With a grunt, he budged it open. “Let us inside.”
“Oh thank the Traveler,” Osiris grumbled as he slipped inside. It was still just as cold inside, but at least there wasn’t any wind.
The bunker was almost perfectly preserved, an unsettling snapshot into the Golden Age. Aside from the nearly collapsed ceiling on the far side, there was barely any debris. Osiris stared at the gaping hole and swore that his left eye twitched. A wave of rage bubbled within him. He cursed, and was moments from slamming his first through a screen when he heard Saint call him from outside. Only then did he realize that the Titan did not follow him into the bunker.
With a half-hearted grumble, Osiris stepped back out into the cold. He was angry and tired and not at all enthused with how their weekend had gone thus far. A complaint was ready on his lips as he stepped over a mound of ice, but it froze. He saw Saint standing with his helmet off, gazing up at the darkening sky as snow started to fall, a soft smile on his face.
The frustration Osiris felt bled out of him easily as the cold settled into his bones. He remembered the first snow he saw at the Iron Temple and how Lord Felwinter approached him when he had the same look of wonder in his eyes. No words had been exchanged as they watched the snow blanket the mountain together. Osiris had not seen a sight like it, until now.
Osiris stepped towards Saint silently as he reached for the Exo’s face. After pulling down multiple layers of his cowl, Osiris pressed a quick kiss to Saint’s cold faceplates but quickly retreated for fear of becoming stuck together. Saint chuckled as he reeled Osiris back in and trapped him willingly in his arms. With a grin, Saint gently lowered Osiris’s cowl, revealing a smirk he loved and knew well. Perhaps the Golden Age records could wait as they shared a longer kiss in the snow.