Whispers of the Demon Pilot
I gave my face a quick wipe with a damp towel and climbed into the Nexus. Having swapped out the frame, the overall silhouette now looked heavier and more cumbersome. On my way here, I'd noticed a few people hanging around where my mobile hangar had landed. They were stealing glances at me as I walked by, pretending not to stare.
Are those the ones getting deployed with me?
But whatever they were up to didn't concern me, so I neatly shoved the sight out of my mind.
I flipped the switches one by one, booting up the Nexus's systems. A soft whine filled the air as the monitors flickered to life. While waiting for full power, I recalled what Hermann had told me.
'Sanctuary No. 3 Nuclear Fusion Power Plant.'
In the game, it was a place that only appeared after the first mission and never again. No follow-up raids or anything else worth grinding. The fact that I wasn't the player threw me for a loop, but only briefly. It made sense, in a way. What really surprised me was that there was a player in this world.
I'd vaguely suspected it, but it hadn't felt real until now. Main story, player—such blatantly gamey terms. Yet this world was undeniably the reality stretching out before my eyes. Whoever this presumed player was, they must have been born and raised here, just like everyone else. What kind of person were they? What did the protagonist of the game I controlled look like in the flesh?
Metal Frame was notoriously stingy with its story, revealing next to nothing about the player. Probably to make immersion easier—aside from being a mercenary and a few side characters, there was zero backstory to speculate on. Of course I was curious. But it wasn't the positive kind of curiosity. More like wariness.
What route will this world's player take?
Depending on which ending they got, the world would change. Countless lives would shift, including mine. At that thought, the auxiliary devices on my body hummed to life, emitting a faint red glow. I'd gotten excited without realizing it.
Even if choices exist now, they're just for show if I'm still at the player's mercy.
Mastering the Nexus had given me power. The ability to do what I wanted. But if I ended up dragged along by the player anyway, what was the point? I didn't care what shape the world they made took. It just pissed me off that I couldn't escape its influence.
"…Hoo."
I took a deep breath and leaned back into the chair. Click. The connection port locked in, and my mind expanded. Like fog lifting from my brain.
Whatever that guy chooses, what does it have to do with me?
I'd been thinking too much about the player. Fixated on the so-called protagonist of this world. But I'd forgotten one thing: I used to be a player too. No reason I had to be pulled along by his choices. He'd do what he wanted, I'd do what I wanted, and we'd each go our separate ways.
I'd told Hermann I'd take on two more jobs before heading out on my own.
But…
What do I even want?
Unaware of the rampant, baseless rumors spreading behind her back, Rabe set off toward the site bearing the player's traces.
That evening, after a day of idle waiting with nothing eventful, I lay in bed replaying the afternoon chatter.
"That movement wasn't amateur. Like watching a seasoned warrior."
"Rookie merc? Ha! No way. Gotta be a corporate elite pilot."
"Can't fool my eyes. Not perfect, but she'll iron it out quick. Merc or not, she'll climb ranks fast."
All from the guard troops who'd survived the recent Nexus raid. They were operating standard exo-frames, not Nexus, so maybe exaggerated. Still, they all agreed: the presumed player's skills were no joke.
Sweeping trash mobs? I could do that easy.
The power plant grounds were scarred everywhere, but it didn't reveal much. Footage showed a one-sided Nexus slaughter—hard to gauge real skill.
If the build was unique, maybe I'd get a feel…
The Nexus in the video used the game's default starter preset. Balanced firepower, range, speed. Bet it was boring as hell. Still, dodging through hails of fire from escorts? Pretty slick. Way above the unranked scrubs littering the leaderboards.
Dunno if that's world-shaking level, though.
Speaking of which, what a coincidence. Never thought I'd end up on the opposite side. Attackers vs. defenders. Not that I'm hostile. Both sides mercs, after all.
I replayed the footage movements in my head until sleep took me.
……
And some time later—
Wheeeeoooowheeeeooo—
A blaring siren outside jolted me awake. My body was drenched in cold sweat.
What the… ugh, my head.
Half-asleep and off-kilter, but I got the picture. Follow-up attack.
Made sense. No way they'd hit guards and bail.
Clearly prep for seizing the facility—something I'd anticipated. Boom, boom…! The ground shook with explosions. I yanked the syringe from my arm and hopped straight into the Nexus.
So this is what was going down outside the game.
Fresh realization hit as I rolled out of the hangar. Sensors lit up with countless machines—all friendlies. Where they headed: massive flames roaring, night sky pulsing red.
Tanks, helos, drones, fighters… Tanks, helos, drones, fighters… No Nexus among the forces sent to seize the facility.
That day, B2B earned themselves three skulls.
