Deep Dive
The moment I opened my eyes, only one thing hit me. Suicidal impulse. “Ugh.” I wanted to die. I wanted it all to end. This worthless life needed to be over quickly. What was that line again? Gregor Samsa woke up one morning from uneasy dreams and found himself transformed into… whatever. I ground my teeth and slammed a fist into my own cheek at the same time. My already collapsed body toppled over once more. My head went completely blank. I couldn’t think at all. What the hell is this? My pupils quivered violently. I dragged myself forward across the floor with my dry, brittle limbs before stopping short. Just as the absurdity of it all left me unable to even laugh, something caught in my hand. A card. I had seen it countless times before. It was the ID card that always sat in the corner of my inventory every time I opened it in the previous game. It was scratched and crumpled beyond recognition, the photo of the face completely unreadable, but the name was clear. Deep.
A hollow laugh slipped out as I raised my head. Beyond the towering piles of garbage and scattered wreckage, past the bulkhead meant to divide the space, something loomed. Its official designation was Titan. A colossal robot standing seventeen meters tall.
The first thing I realized on that opening day was that this was no dream. At that point, I might have preferred a pleasant dream while having my organs harvested. The second thing I learned within three days was that there was no water here. Not even for drinking, let alone washing. And obviously, there was no food either. Every morning I watched cockroaches scuttle past and wondered if I should eat one. I’d heard they tasted like shrimp, but… no. That was a hard pass.
And every time I woke up, I understood that the restrictions placed on this body were creating a devastating synergy. Otaku. My thoughts spiraled into negativity. Low self-esteem. I couldn’t see any value in myself. Lowborn. My origins were worthless. These three constraints crushed me all at once. Every second of every minute, they reminded me I was a useless human being and urged me to die. It felt like something inside my head was feeding me a 5,700-character suicide recommendation every single second. If I could adjust them, maybe I could have lived with the restrictions. But if they could be adjusted, they wouldn’t be restrictions.
In just three days I had already suffered more than twenty suicidal impulses. This morning, to regain my senses, I had slammed my forehead against the floor five times. I nearly died trying not to kill myself. Of course, dehydration or malnutrition might finish me off first. Yet the only reason I kept resisting the urge was one thing.
The siren wailed from every direction at once, but my eyes locked onto the closest one. My vision swam. It was a random special qualification test aimed at commoners and lowborns. The lower-class special admission track. The first event. I didn’t know what the other events were like, but I was certain—at least I desperately hoped—that a first event existed.
The bulkhead entrance. I knew where that was. It was near where the Titan had been walking on the first day. My body, which hadn’t eaten food or water, would need a long time to get there. But my limbs wouldn’t obey. My hands and feet trembled violently and I collapsed again. Oily dirt soaked into me. The stench rose on its own. My knees hurt. Wait… was I dying? I didn’t have the slightest desire to die. The suicidal urges from the restrictions inside my head were real, but I wanted to live badly enough to slap myself awake. No, was I actually dying? What would happen if I died here again? Would I return to reality? Or would I wake up to someone saying, “Bro, this guy’s laughing in his sleep”?
More importantly, could this body even pass the test? No, of course not. I was just a lowborn who had never even driven a Titan before. My eyes slowly began to close. Fittingly, rain began to fall. The rain carried a sour, fishy smell. It was clearly toxic to the body. I no longer wanted to wet my parched throat with it, but as my body cooled, strength somehow returned. Still, it wasn’t enough to stand.
Then the announcement came. Food. My upper body shot upright. The power of a meal. Better to die from choking while eating than to starve to death. My limbs pushed my torso off the ground. My feet planted themselves. It was a monumental leap for me, a small step for mankind. Yet my heart had never pounded harder. All because of the thought of food and water.
Bethesda Academy. The name, meaning “house of mercy,” came from the biblical pool that healed all diseases and made people anew. True to its name, it was a place that forged everyone into perfect pilots through relentless tempering. The empire was at war with the coalition and torn by rebel civil wars. War heroes were born in real time. For the word “hero,” class and economic background meant nothing. This was a land of opportunity—no, a school of opportunity—that set aside class and wealth to professionally train Titan pilots who could become heroes. A dreamlike institution. Or so I had believed.
“...This one’s a genuine lowborn.”
Dreams are usually illusions. Even though they were dispatched from the academy, their reluctance to associate with lowborns remained the same. A man in a suit stared at me intently. At least the rain had washed away most of my stench. There was only a faint sour, fishy odor left.
“You don’t know the controls… obviously. No lowborn would. Even commoners don’t. Can you read at all?”
“I-I-I know how, I know.”
“Surprising.”
Insane. One sentence and I had bowed three times in my mind. So this was what happened when you combined otaku tendencies, low self-esteem, and lowborn status. I felt like I was losing my mind. Separately from that, I had known from the start that I could read the text. When I read the ID card on the first day, unfamiliar characters had come to me as naturally as breathing. It was strange. Some kind of reincarnation perk, I supposed.
While I was lost in thought, the suited man pulled a thick stack of papers from his bag and held them out. At a glance, it looked like at least thirty pages.
“These are the controls. There are only ten minutes left until the test, but the basics are all in the front. You should at least be able to make it walk.”
“Th-th-thank you.”
The bundle of papers was surprisingly heavy. Part of it was my emaciated body, but the volume rivaled an academic thesis. The font was tiny too.
“The rules are simple. At twelve o’clock, those who wish to participate will board the simulators in order. You receive points for every successful normal operation. Defeating an enemy… well, that won’t happen.”
The man moved to pat my shoulder but lowered his hand and walked away. It was honestly a relief; I looked like I would collapse if touched. But what about the food? It seemed the meal would only come after operating the simulator. My stomach growled and my throat was so dry my vision blurred. Even though I couldn’t focus properly, I picked up the manual. The text flowed into me. My head began to throb. Even though I didn’t want it to, the information seemed to hammer directly into my brain. It wasn’t so much reading as having the data forcibly output into my mind.
Why? The answer came the moment I wondered. Spatial awareness and speed reading were activating simultaneously. I wasn’t reading the letters; I was sensing and recognizing them as information. If my body had been normal, it might have just left me a little stiff. Right now it felt like my skull was splitting open. Like my brain was being crushed into paste. And yet… why did it feel like I had been born to read this?
The area was packed with people, yet no one raised their hand. Of course not. There was no way any commoner or lowborn already knew how to pilot a Titan. The manual said that mastering just the first five pages of basic controls normally required a full month of foundational training.
Even after the suited man’s words, no one raised their hand. The only sound was pages turning. This was a chance to change their lives. No one wanted to waste it by failing to memorize the controls. But for someone, food was more important than opportunity.
“M-me. Me.”
The instant I raised my hand, countless gazes stabbed into me. My body flinched. It felt like being pierced by needles.
My body shook uncontrollably. The suited man approached and held out his hand.
“ID card.”
I quickly handed over my identification. I had found it by chance, but the name was exactly what I had used in the game.
“Deep. No surname, just Deep?”
“Y-yeah, that’s right.”
“Take the test. You can give up the moment it starts.”
As the man stepped back, a path to the simulator opened. My body moved naturally toward the machine. It was ridiculous, but the cushioning was so good that closing my eyes made me feel like I could fall asleep. The man spoke in a low voice.
“Ignition.”
I pressed the switch with my left hand and turned the ignition key in the center with my right. Light flooded the simulation screen. A floating sensation followed. The machine had lifted, supported by its own systems. The man continued.
“Equipment.”
I gripped both sticks and pressed my feet onto the pedals. The instant I took hold of the sticks—no, from the moment I had read the manual—I knew. These controls were familiar. Not the shape or weight, but the button placement, the number of inputs. Two sticks. Four primary input buttons on the right stick. Four directional keys on the left. Three system buttons. Bumper buttons pressed with the index finger. And finally, the trigger buttons for the middle finger. Though the appearance was quite different, the layout was identical to a gamepad. It felt like I had been born to pilot this.
“The real simulation begins now. Vibrations and impacts felt while operating an actual machine will be transmitted identically. If you plan to give up, do it before—”
Deep. Just like in the previous game, this sequel also supported a fixed launch phrase. The reason my name was Deep was because of that launch call.
“What?”
I wanted to climb into this giant robot and move it perfectly. Holograms enveloped everything. The moment it began, the Titan opposite me raised its gun in this direction. I held no weapon in my hands. I pushed both sticks forward at once.
“Wait, consider your physical condition—”
It moved. It moved exactly in the direction I commanded. Thudding footsteps. The giant made of steel obeyed. Its two feet shook the earth as it advanced. It was moving. Clang! Sparks flew from the shoulder armor. A bullet had grazed it. They said every successful operation earned bonus points. If I just kept dodging like this, I might pass. But simply passing wasn’t enough to satisfy me.
I scanned the surroundings. I didn’t even need my eyes. My spatial awareness picked up something embedded in the ground. An overwhelmingly massive sword.
“Hey, the simulator even replicates acceleration! Stop right now!”
I sprinted at full speed. At a velocity no human could imagine, both arms pounded the ground as I ran. Holes punched through the rising clouds of dust. Bullets. The bullets were coming.
“Stop—”
The simulator spun once. No—the Titan rolled across the ground, seized the sword, and pulled it free.
“Urk.”
The sudden motion brought a wave of nausea. I swallowed it down. There was only gastric acid, so my mouth tasted sour. It was more disgusting and acrid than the smell of the rain. With the sword held edge-forward, the Titan charged the enemy. The opposing Titan retreated while firing. Bullets slammed into the flat of the blade with dull thuds before falling to the ground. My body was crushed into the cushion by gravity. Even while completely immobilized, both hands worked the buttons and sticks, feet pressing the pedals. The Titan’s feet could maintain short hovers. With sudden acceleration, the massive frame pivoted. In an instant positions reversed and the giant that had been in front now held the enemy’s rear. My gravity-dragged body twisted sideways and a sharp crack sounded from my neck.
“Heh.”
The pain made me laugh. It moved. It was moving. It moved exactly as I wanted. Who cared if it was a simulation? I had made this Titan move. I could dominate it! The massive sword rose high. The moment the hover ended, the ground rang with a heavy crash. Both feet kicked off the earth and charged. The enemy’s reaction was slow. It hadn’t even turned its torso yet. The sword pierced the enemy Titan’s chest and drove straight through. Boom! My whole body jolted and the screen went dark. The holograms shut down, my vision blacked out, and with a mechanical clack the simulator hatch opened.
“U-urk, bleeegh!”
I stuck my head out and vomited. Yellowish gastric fluid splattered the floor. Cold sweat dripped steadily while both hands shook. The man in the suit grabbed my shoulders with both hands.
“Eyes! Open your eyes! Can you see my face clearly—”
“Food.”
It was a relief. At least when it came to the main point, I didn’t stutter at all.
“Give me food. Qu-quickly.”
Because I was so hungry I felt like I would die. I received a high-calorie bar and clean drinking water. I wolfed it down so fast I choked and collapsed, and they carried me away.