Codename: Driller
Icarus Technology Far East Branch, Briefing Room 7.
True to a corporation famous for its cutting-edge facilities, a massive holographic projection floated vividly in the center of the conference room.
On the feed, against the dust-choked interior of an abandoned mining base, a battered third-generation Bugbear was performing movements that defied belief.
Playback speed 0.5x. Frame-by-frame analysis mode engaged.
A cold mechanical voice accompanied the slowed footage.
The Bugbear swung its massive drill bit as if it were an extension of its own arm and smashed precisely into the cockpit of a charging pirate mecha. Fragments sprayed outward. Sparks erupted. The motion was crude, yet at the same time impossibly precise and fast.
"Is this footage even real?"
A sharp-featured mercenary with the callsign Laser frowned as he asked the question. He was one of Icarus's ace pilots.
"Hard to say. This is the original data our recon drones captured themselves. No signs of tampering were found."
Doctor, the data analyst, adjusted his glasses as he spoke. His eyes darted busily after the numbers floating across the hologram.
"That's impossible. Look at the G-forces generated during those maneuvers. A normal pilot would have been crushed flat in the cockpit. That isn't human movement."
Titan, the heavily built mercenary in a bulky reinforced suit, countered in his deep voice. His specialty was heavy-armor breakthrough combat.
"Then… could it be a relic of the old era?"
Doctor offered the hypothesis carefully.
"For example, a pilot who received the illegal Enhanced Human procedures used back during the Imperial Wars."
"Enhanced Human?"
Laser snorted.
"Those old enhancement procedures had such severe side effects the tech was almost completely abandoned. Even if that were true—look at the machine. It's a Bugbear. A third-generation mass-produced piece of junk!"
Laser let out a disbelieving sigh.
"Trying to force those kinds of moves out of a frame like that would shatter the joint actuators first. The torque overload readings are completely abnormal!"
Titan nodded in agreement and added,
"Those movements are impossible given the machine's specs. It'd be more convincing to call it an AI-forged fake. Could be psychological warfare from a rival company or the pirates themselves."
"Or some propaganda video the Kronos Mercenary Group cooked up while high on whatever."
Laser's sarcastic remark left a brief, cynical silence hanging over the briefing room.
The Kronos Mercenary Group. A third-rate outfit that scraped by grinding cheap mercenaries—nothing that could even be compared to a mega-corporation like Icarus. There was no way a pilot like that could come out of a place like that.
Until then, a figure who had been silently watching the footage from a corner of the room finally moved.
She was a woman with hair so white it was nearly silver, set against clear, cold eyes. Her immaculate white pilot suit only heightened her otherworldly presence.
Her name was Yuna.
Even among the mercenaries of Icarus Technology, she was famous for her unmatched skill and air of mystery.
Laser, Titan, and Doctor all fell silent at once and turned their attention to her. Her opinion was more than mere reference material.
Yuna rose from her seat and stepped up to the hologram. Her gaze locked on the wreckage of the destroyed pirate mecha and the Bugbear standing precariously in the middle of it.
"Speculation is meaningless."
Her voice was low, yet it carried the power to silence every other sound in the room.
"We simply need to confirm it ourselves."
With that, Yuna left the briefing room without the slightest hesitation.
"W-wait! Yuna! Confirm it how…?"
Laser called after her in confusion, but she never looked back.
The door closed, and an awkward silence settled over the room once more.
"There she goes again."
Titan let out a dry laugh.
"Leave her be. If Yuna's taking a personal interest, we'll know soon enough whether that footage is real or fake."
Doctor muttered the words and returned to his data analysis.
Laser wore a dissatisfied expression, but he said nothing more. Yuna's unilateral actions were nothing new, and she always brought back results.
A short while later, in the special hangar of Icarus Technology's Far East Branch.
The latest custom mecha Silvera—formed of elegant silver-white curves—quietly powered up. It was a machine built solely for Yuna, on an entirely different level from any mass-production model.
Seated in the cockpit, Yuna's cold eyes reflected the glow of the instrument panels. New target data appeared on her HUD.
Objective Confirmation & Engagement
Target: Unidentified mercenary (Provisional codename: Driller)
Last confirmed coordinates: Sector Gamma-7, interior of abandoned asteroid mining base
Silvera lifted off and slipped out of the hangar. Yuna's silver eyes gleamed coldly.
"Whether you're the real thing or just a scrap of data… I'll go see for myself, Driller."
Her mecha cut through space like a streak of silver light, racing toward Sector Gamma-7.
Debris and wreckage from the earlier battle lay scattered in every direction. Pirate mechas sprawled where they had fallen, still throwing off sparks. At the center of it all sat my own machine—the thoroughly wrecked Bugbear, trailing smoke.
I sat buried deep in the cockpit, dragging in ragged breaths. Unbelievably, I had taken out all six pirate units by myself.
After smashing the first two with the drill bit, I honestly couldn't remember clearly how I finished the rest. I must have swung the drill like a madman, hidden behind crumbling structures, used collapsing wreckage, and simply fought with pure survival instinct. In the end, I was the only one left alive.
Jinx, Sparky, even Flight Leader Cog 4… I didn't want to think about any of them. Only the cold reality slammed into my skull.
Then the system window began flashing noisy alerts.
Hostile force completely annihilated (6/6)
Partial mission objective achieved: Area threat elements eliminated
Combat efficiency analysis: Extraordinary
◈ +3000 CR
Three thousand credits! I couldn't believe my eyes. It was several times the usual mission pay. With this money I wouldn't have to worry about starving for a while, and I might even be able to properly repair—or maybe even modify—this damned Bugbear.
But it didn't end there. Beneath the credit reward, a new alert was blinking.
Skill Acquired — ???
A skill?
Skills existed in this world too? Just like in the game?
The ??? text slowly faded, and in its place appeared a word so familiar it nearly stopped my heart.
Kinetic Flow
"…!"
I swallowed hard. My heart began hammering wildly.
Kinetic Flow.
The absolute core skill that had completed my Asura build back in Galaxy Titans World. It temporarily redirected a machine's excess energy into the propulsion and inertia-control systems, maximizing unpredictable movement and shock absorption. It casually ignored every safety regulation, pushed the frame past its limits, and enabled close-quarters maneuvering that was both fluid as flowing water and explosively powerful. Dangerous—but used properly, it could deliver overwhelming melee combat performance no other machine could match.
And it had manifested here? Why? How? Because my fighting style had been similar to the game build? Or was it simply pure luck?
With trembling fingers I touched the skill icon on the system window. Instantly the method of use and its effects flowed into my mind as if I had always known them. When I focused my consciousness, I felt a new sensation—the ability to finely control the Bugbear's energy flow. Still crude, but unmistakably the feel of Kinetic Flow.
If I could get this much sensation out of a scrap-heap machine… once I got a proper frame…!
Three thousand credits, and the Kinetic Flow skill.
Maybe this was a chance. Not just to survive, but to live some other kind of life in this gutter of a reality.
I gripped the battered Bugbear's control sticks firmly once more. For a long while I steadied my breathing and checked the machine's condition. The outer armor was in tatters and warning lights blinked everywhere, but thankfully the reactor was stable and basic mobility remained. The comms equipment was barely alive as well.
Time to report.
I took one deep breath and opened the channel. Static crackled heavily, but the connection seemed to hold.
"Kronos Base, this is Cog 7. Respond."
After several calls, a familiar voice finally came through the speaker. It was Sergeant Bulldog. His tone sounded rougher and more agitated than usual.
[Cog 7, you bastard still alive? What the hell happened out there! Report!]
"We were ambushed inside Sector Gamma-7."
I tried to stay as calm as possible, stripping out emotion and delivering only the facts.
"Cog 4, Cog 5, Cog 6… all KIA."
[What… what did you say? All of them? Then what about you?]
"Hostile force totaled six units. All eliminated."
Silence stretched across the channel. Only the crackle of static circled my ears. After a moment, Sergeant Bulldog repeated the words as if he couldn't believe them.
[Say that again, Cog 7. You're telling me you took out six hostiles by yourself?]
"Affirmative. My machine is heavily damaged but still mobile. Pilot status green. Holding position and awaiting further orders. Over."
Silence again. Bulldog clearly didn't believe me. Hell, I wouldn't have believed it either. A rookie in a junk Bugbear beating six pirates? It didn't make sense.
[Understood. Cog 7. Hold your current position and wait. I'm sending a recovery team immediately. And…]
[…don't do anything stupid. Just sit tight. Bulldog out.]
The channel cut. His final words carried none of the usual barking; instead they held some complicated emotion I couldn't quite name. Confusion? Or maybe the faintest trace of expectation?
I shut off the comms. Once more the cockpit held only my rough breathing and the noise of the damaged systems.
The recovery team would take a good while to arrive. I leaned back against the tattered frame of the Bugbear and stared up at the dark ceiling of the abandoned base.