TRICK OR TREAT
This expedition was different from its very first moment.
The instant they left Sanctum behind and emerged into the Outer, the suppressed madness of the Halloween Society erupted all at once.
Dozens of armored vehicles went tearing across the wasteland, clad in garish paint jobs, geometric neon signage, and unidentifiable ornamentation.
From the massive speakers bolted onto every vehicle, music burst out in a din loud enough to shred eardrums, each one vying to outshout the rest.
The sight looked less like an expedition than like a carnival procession of madness, brimming with discord.
A few of the idols climbed onto the roofs of their moving vehicles and launched into their broadcasts, shouting at the drones that trailed them.
One howled at the top of her lungs as she chugged a newly released energy drink; another flashed a peace sign against the backdrop of a rival's vehicle, blown to pieces in an explosion.
The relay crackled through the car radio. Before Chatterbox's exclamations had even finished, another massive detonation rang out. A half-destroyed armored vehicle went sailing through the air.
Ash gazed out the window at the spectacle, and it suddenly occurred to him that everyone aboard — himself and Akina excepted — belonged to the Halloween Society.
A society bound by a single value.
And the one value that governed this expedition was plain to see.
Popularity.
The fights unfolding here were not for survival. They were closer to a show staged for ever-higher viewership ratings.
From this point on, everything here would rise and fall according to one single truth: the ratings. In a world where even life-or-death combat had been reduced to mere entertainment, what mattered more than survival was likes and donations.
That was the true nature of this expedition.
"Shit. These lunatics are off the rails from the word go."
One small mercy: Ifrit, Dullahan, and Jack O'Lantern — the team he'd been paired with — were comparatively quiet.
Ash's cyan optical sensors turned toward Ifrit. "Do you not join that commotion, Yeohyeop?"
At his question, Ifrit flashed a grin while tending to her signature weapon, the Dragon's Breath. "Ash. Everything's about the impact, y'know. If we go wilding with the rest of the herd right out the gate, we just get buried in the noise."
"...Could you elaborate?"
"Nothing to explain. In the end, every viewer only cares about one thing. Who's number one? All we have to do is find the Nexus first. Ratings? We can steal every last point the other bastards have."
Jack O'Lantern shouted over his shoulder from the wheel. "That's right, boss lady! The real protagonist always shows up last! Kheheh."
"...I see."
Different methods — but at heart, they were no different from the rest.
Come to think of it, that was only natural.
They were all Halloween Society, after all.
Ifrit. Dullahan. Jack O'Lantern.
There was a single reason they had entered this dangerous reclamation battle, recruiting auxiliary members along the way.
Popularity.
Greater recognition. More viewers.
To become the most dazzling presence of all upon the grand stage of the Nexus reclamation war.
Ash wanted to ask.
What exactly was this 'popularity,' that they would throw away their very lives for it?
"..."
But he did not ask.
Have I not, too, lived a life swallowed whole by something?
The only difference was that for them it was popularity, and for him, vengeance. If someone were to ask him why he had lived such a life, could he truly answer? Ash doubted it.
Those who ride aboard a ship cannot see the ship itself.
Ash adjusted the steel blade slung across his back, detaching his spirit — free and drifting, as the character for 'wandering' suggested — from this world of violence dressed up as festivity.
The heat of the carnival did not touch him in the slightest.
And yet, this festival of frenzy showed no intention of leaving him be.
"Oh, shit—!"
With that short cry, the armored vehicle carrying them swerved hard. Jack O'Lantern had wrenched the wheel.
"Kyaa!"
The instant Akina lost her balance and nearly went flying, Ash caught her — then lifted his head.
Through the car window, six bikes came cutting across the wasteland toward them. Smoke was curling up from the heavy weapon one of them carried — they had apparently aimed and fired at this vehicle already.
"Those sons of bitches...!"
Ifrit, thrown into a corner by the sharp turn, spat out a curse. "Let's do this, then!"
Just as she reached to open the top hatch, Ash rose to his feet as well. "I shall go with you."
"Hell yes! Let's play!"
The two of them emerged through the top hatch of the speeding armored vehicle. The biting torrent of wind whipped at their clothes.
The wasteland was pandemonium itself — a chaos of dust storms and gunfire kicked up by dozens of vehicles.
Through it all, the bikes closed in trailing clouds of dust, cut in along the flank, and rained down bullets.
Rat-tat-tat-tang!
Sparks scattered across the armor plating.
Ifrit let loose one more curse, then broke into a smile of pure madness and hefted her weapon — the Dragon's Breath. "Eat this!"
The Dragon's Breath was a shotgun.
One that breathed fire, no less.
With a thunderous blast, a spreading fan of burning shot swallowed the pack of bikers whole. A couple of them, engulfed in flame, went shrieking and tumbling across the ground.
But out of that dust storm came three more bikers. Far from retreating, they closed the distance and re-shouldered their heavy weapons.
Anti-tank cannons.
"Ah, damn it—!"
Before Ifrit could even take aim, Ash stepped forward. His low electronic voice rang out through the rushing wind. "Cover me."
Ash's new-model body shot out from the edge of the vehicle's roof as if detonated. A faint trail of sparks glimmered along the spiral path he carved through the air.
"Wh-what the hell is that?!"
The bikers gaped at the oncoming blur of him. Before any of them could act, Ash was already upon them, blade sweeping.
With a hissing crack of sheared metal, the barrel of the anti-tank cannon was severed clean away.
Stepping off the first biker's shoulder without breaking stride, Ash hurled himself toward the second rider trailing behind.
"He's insane!"
The riders gawking at his descending form raised their guns, but Ash's movement was faster than their bullets. He twisted mid-air, slipping past the incoming rounds as though brushing them aside, and landed squarely behind the second biker.
"Good day to you."
"..."
The humanoid, as if dropped from the very heavens, glowed with cyan optical sensors — and swung his blade, cracking the biker across the head with its flat.
"Gwaaagh!"
The riderless bike veered — straight toward its own comrade.
"Huh? Whoa—! Hey, you bastard! Don't come this wa—"
The two bikes collided, tangled in a miserable heap, and rolled across the ground.
And Ash?
Ash was already gone from that place.
Just as when he'd departed, some unseen moment had carried him back through the sky and onto the armored vehicle. The whole affair had taken less than ten seconds.
Leaping from bike to moving bike, subduing them all in turn — it was a feat worthy of a miracle, a display of God-speed footwork honed to the absolute extreme.
Ifrit, who had been supposed to be providing cover and instead stood gaping at Ash, blinked both eyes.
Ash, his expression already flat again, paused halfway back into the hatch and spoke to her. "Are you not coming in?"
"Ah, yeah... right..."
Ifrit drifted in after him, a dazed look on her face. No sooner had she entered than Chatterbox's excited voice burst through the car audio.
The commotion wasn't limited to Chatterbox, either.
Beep! Beep! Beeeep!
Jack O'Lantern, who had been blaring the horn repeatedly, whipped his head around. "Whoa! That was insane! What WAS that? How do you even move like that?"
Dullahan in the passenger seat was no different. A short phrase now blazed across his visor, perfectly capturing his state of mind.
He was even clapping.
Apparently quite the impression had been made.
"Heh, hehehet! What did I tell you! I said he was no joke, didn't I? The star of this reclamation war is OUR team!"
"If we keep this up, we might actually hit the trending page, huh?"
"Obviously! Now let's GOOO!"
The inside of the armored vehicle grew loud and lively.
But the man at the center of it all remained utterly still. Leaving his clamoring teammates behind, Ash quietly settled into the seat beside Akina.
"Any parts damaged?"
"None."
"Your power levels? How is the battery holding up?"
Ash regarded Akina for a moment, then raised the steel hand she had given him and gently stroked her hair. "Worry not. There is nothing at all to fear."
Ratings, broadcasts, popularity — none of it meant a thing to Ash and Akina. Even amid this uproar, the only thing on their minds was survival, and survival alone.
Having reassured Akina, Ash closed his voice module and turned his gaze to the window.
"Alright! Let's ride this momentum! Jack! Punch it!"
The armored vehicle's massive engine rumbled, hammering through its eight cylinders one after another.
With a deep, heavy roar it accelerated, kicking up a cloud of dust as it tore across the wasteland.
The armored vehicle, which had been racing without pause, finally came to a stop. They had reached the target site.
"But hey, boss lady — we're really going in with no stream running?"
Jack O'Lantern said as he killed the engine, his voice thick with disappointment.
Ifrit answered as she opened the rear hatch. "What did I tell you? The boring blow-by-blow of the expedition doesn't matter. Our goal is the Nexus Port. All we need is to find it first. Starting the broadcast after that won't be too late."
Dullahan nodded. A message flickered up onto his visor.
Jack O'Lantern still looked a little wistful. The sudden attention Ash had won them clearly pained him to let go.
But he too knew that a stealth run, broadcast-free, was advantageous in every way that counted, so he said nothing more.
"Enough chit-chat."
Ifrit was the first to step down from the armored vehicle. "Let's get ready."
At her low words, the team moved. Jack O'Lantern pulled out several small bombs and strapped them around his waist; Dullahan flexed his mechanical arm again and again, running system checks and meticulously inspecting his firearms.
"Dullahan and I take point. Jack covers the rear. Obstacles — we blow 'em by default. Speed is everything on this run. Oh, and grab a few more bombs. Now that I'm seeing it up close, the ruins are bigger than I figured."
At her word, the three idols sprang into efficient motion. It was the fluid movement of long practice.
Ifrit and her comrades were decidedly no ordinary Pathfinders. They were veterans who knew ruins like the backs of their hands.
Amid the bustle, Ash — who had disembarked alongside Akina — spoke up. "What is my role to be?"
Perhaps the question caught her off guard, for Ifrit arched one eyebrow. "What's with you? So weird. Fine — you'll listen if I tell you?"
"If it is needed."
At that answer, Ifrit blinked a couple of times. "...There's something about you that just pulls people in. It's uncanny."
She raised the Dragon's Breath and racked it once. A heavy clack-clack of a fresh shell chambering echoed out.
"Protect Akina. No matter what happens. That's all you need to do."
There wasn't a trace of playfulness in her voice. Ash regarded her strange eyes for a moment, then slowly nodded. "I thank you for the consideration."
"Consideration, nothing. It's the hardest job on the roster."
The preparations were finished quickly.
Dragon's Breath slung across her shoulder, Ifrit spoke one last time. "Alright. Then — shall we?"
The five Pathfinders, nodding as one, advanced into the darkened ruins.
And so the second expedition began.