Nightfall Return to Nest
By the time the mobile hangar arrived at Nest, night had fallen once more. The lights from the massive arms factory flickered hazily through the cold flurries of snow. As we touched down on the landing pad, a figure burst out from the building right away. When I looked closer, it was the doctor who'd been looking after me for the past four months.
"Any problems with your body?"
"Huh? No... none."
He started off sounding reassuring, but then he jabbed a syringe into my arm with a portable device and checked the results. His face twisted. Soon enough, he realized I hadn't administered the life-support meds in the proper ratios. His voice rose—not yelling, but scolding in that steady, nagging tone—and before I knew it, my feet were carrying me away. The doctor ignored my silent protest and followed right behind, drilling the importance and dangers of the drugs into my ears until they rang.
"Got it? You got lucky this time with just one missed dose, but if you'd gone even a little further off-schedule, your body could've spiraled into irreversible damage, wasting away bit by bit...."
Then just swap out the ruined organs for chrome ones. In a world like this, artificial organ tech had to exist.
Ah, maybe I should just go full cyberpsycho.
I had no idea why this doctor was so hard on me. He just needed to keep me alive long enough to pay off Hermann's debt. That was it.
As I kept walking, not really getting it, Hermann appeared at the end of the corridor. The doctor finally stopped his nagging and straightened up.
"Anyway, got it? Promise me. Always read the instructions before using the meds. They're right there on the case—it's not hard."
The doctor wouldn't quit. I finally nodded reluctantly, and only then did his expression soften. He glanced at Hermann for a second before leaving.
Tatata—the sound of a helicopter outside the window. Probably the patrol unit taking off for rounds near Nest. The chopper banked, its spotlight sweeping the dark corridor once. Shadows fell across Hermann's face.
"How'd the job go, Rabe? Merc work treating you okay?"
I nodded silently.
"The corp didn't rub you the wrong way? Olivia Bio Group's brokers are infamous for their shitty attitudes."
They'd definitely treated me like dirt—no sugarcoating. But something about it was kinda funny, so it didn't piss me off as much as it should've. Like a big, ridiculous mountain of bullshit.
Hermann waved his hand dismissively at my shrug.
"It's late anyway. Head in and rest. Glad nothing went wrong."
Hermann vanished down the dark corridor. I headed to my familiar hospital room and turned in. Staring blankly at the now-familiar ceiling, his last words suddenly hit me.
Glad? Why?
He'd said it like he was personally responsible for me. It didn't feel bad, exactly, but it was weird. Debtor-creditor relationship meant focus on paying the debt. No need to care who I was. No need to treat me like a kid. The world doesn't get nicer just because you throw a tantrum.
But Hermann kept trying to plant that idea in me. Frowning at the inexplicable irritation, I tossed and turned that night.
The next day, as I lay in bed rubbing my warm, fatigued eyes, Hermann opened the door and stepped in.
"Rabe, did you buy any Nexus parts?"
"Ah...."
The stuff I'd ordered yesterday must've arrived. I started getting up to retrieve it, but then it hit me what kind of place Nest was, and I froze.
They're hardcore anti-corp. What if he's pissed?
I'd entered Nest's coordinates in the delivery address. Sure, knowing the location wouldn't let the corps just bomb us outright, but they might still flip out that a corp lackey had come to their home base.
But Hermann cleared it up the moment I worried and apologized.
"You bought through a broker site, right? Then it's delivered via Hermes, the neutral middleman, not the corp. No need to worry."
"Good to know."
"Anyway, confirms you bought it. Hang on."
Hermann issued orders on his terminal to allow the transport ship's entry, then stood.
I sat there on the bed, and he glanced back like what're you doing?
"Your parts are here. You gonna check 'em out or what?"
My foggy brain snapped awake. Oh, right! My order! Nexus frame unboxing!
I scrambled out of bed and hurried after him.
....
At the landing pad, the massive frame was being unloaded from the transport. While Hermann checked the manifest for me, I stared at it being dragged out amid the racket.
Anyone watching probably thought I was beaming with excitement, eyes sparkling. Finally, something hot and new I'd bought with my own money was in my hands.
Hermann eyed my glittering gaze and said,
"Happy, right? So why the blank face? It's yours."
"......"
I was expressing joy as best I could, but it wasn't landing. I silently took the tablet he handed me and signed the manifest. The delivery guy bowed and flew off.
As I watched the transport recede, Hermann spoke up beside me.
"Just to be sure—what if you got scammed? Or suckered by corp sales?"
I squinted up at him, and he narrowed his eyes back down.
"How much for the frame?"
"...108,000 credits."
"Cheaper than decent armament. You know what you bought, right?"
"Heavy frame."
"That's it?"
Silence.
Hermann sighed and explained.
"The GREECE frame's over 20 years old—last-gen junk. Thought maybe you got dumped with malicious stock."
"Long-lasting product. Lots of work Nexuses use 'em."
That's what the description said.
"Who uses a Nexus for work?"
"...."
I shut my mouth, stumped.
Why rain on my new toy parade?
"If you really need it, I could've bought you one."
Did he really think I'd accept? He didn't wait for an answer anyway, turning back to the frame.
It didn't look half bad to me—that bulky, rugged silhouette.
Days at Nest rolled on after that. I'd spent the time fiddling with parts and admiring them, so the itch to move the Nexus didn't get too bad. Of course, my "daily life" meant either Nexus-related stuff or lying there like a corpse otherwise.
Half the time zoning out, half glued to the Nexus. I'd drop by the Watchdog research site now and then, or inspect the frame up close in the hangar.
Stuff I couldn't do in the game—it was a blast. About a week passed like that.
It was just another quiet day. Then suddenly, Hermann summoned me to his office. I stopped staring blankly at the frame's hydraulic cylinder and headed over.
"Rabe, I need you to deploy."
"Got it."
"Five hours ago, a Nexus infiltrated an energy facility owned by one of our external allies, hit the guards, and vanished. Turns out it was a corp-hired merc."
Hermann showed me a monitor displaying the raided facility. Something about it looked familiar.
"Thought they'd gone quiet lately, but they're back at it. Nothing major, but we're sending reinforcements for power support anyway. Go with them—in case of follow-ups."
"Hermann, what's the facility called?"
"Hm?"
He gave me a puzzled look. I never asked unnecessary questions, so it was fair.
He stared for a moment, then answered.
"Sanctuary No. 3 Nuclear Fusion Plant. Why? Something on your mind?"
Sanctuary No. 3 Nuclear Fusion Plant.
Hearing that name, I drew a sharp breath.
It was familiar. Of course it was. How could I forget?
'Sanctuary No. 3 Nuclear Fusion Plant Sweep.'
Metal Frame Chapter 1, right after the tutorial mission. The first job new players took on a corp contract once they really dove into the game.