Shadows Beyond the Clouds
I tried to keep my mind from wandering to other thoughts. What the hell was that structure up in the sky? Had the Metal Frame world advanced to the point where they could build something like a megastructure?
The voice from the debriefing video snapped me out of it.
> Launch protocol forcibly executed—what a dire situation, but you made the right call. Accelerating with the pod to catch up to the missile? That's an idea no ordinary pilot would dare attempt.
> And about that 'nuclear explosion' in the latter half of the mission...
The voice paused for a moment.
> If that had been a real nuclear detonation, you wouldn't have survived. Interception doesn't just make a nuke go off like that. Normally, it only triggers a conventional explosion and fizzles out. But there's a low probability that the warhead was properly pressurized, leading to an incomplete nuclear reaction.
Ah, got it, I muttered, nodding. So the idea that a bomb just blows up if you light the fuse was nothing but a vague prejudice.
> Anyway, you handled the commission brilliantly. We learned a bit late, but it turns out you're the pilot who took down Scarab not long ago. You fought on the anti-corporate side back then, but we're convinced you're aiming higher. We look forward to fighting alongside you soon. That's all.
The debriefing ended. I checked the amount deposited into my account.
It was definitely a good haul, but my head felt strangely numb, and the corners of my mouth wouldn't turn up. I still couldn't shake the sight from the end of the mission—the view beyond the clouds.
What the hell was that thing? Why was there such a massive structure floating in the sky? Had there ever been any hint of something like that in Metal Frame? My mind buzzed with questions, restless and unsettled. That was no natural formation. If it had always been there, it would've shown up as background lore in the game.
"......"
As I mulled it over, I suddenly placed a hand on my chest. Thump-thump. My heart was racing. For some reason, I was excited. Not from piloting the Nexus into combat—just from thinking about what lay beyond the sky.
Why? Why did merely pondering it fill my body with vitality? Light returned to my eyes, energy surged through my limbs. My body was still frail, but the energy within it had changed. It felt like I was slowly recalling something I'd forgotten for a very long time.
On the way back to the Nest, I slept like the dead, then dragged myself back into the Nexus, wobbly as ever. Even just browsing parts shops felt more stable from inside the cockpit. I was scouting gear I could afford with my new credits.
The frame comes first.
I had to upgrade this junker somehow. I listed the used GREECE frame for sale. Hermes Network would probably pick it up when my new purchases arrived.
So, what to replace the GREECE frame with? I searched for the frame I'd mained in the game.
Icarus Corp's FLUEGEL.
Price: 220,000 credits. More than two-thirds of my earnings, gone in one go. Might leave me short for weapons. But I bought it without hesitation.
Honestly, the frame matters more than weapons.
Changing the robot's outer shell—what could be more important? Design is a big deal. I smirked faintly, imagining my soon-to-arrive baby.
Anyway, I'd blown the money on personal taste, and now my wallet was pinched. Time for compromises on weapons.
Right now, I've got a hand cannon and a submachine gun...
Honestly, I prefer shotguns for armament. Nothing beats them for my close-range brawling style. But even the basic Laterano Hard Tack shotgun was over 90,000 credits. Out of my budget.
So, the most efficient use of 80,000 credits? I decided to tweak the shoulder mounts.
Currently, just missiles.
Missiles are for long-range harassment. But with my style—mostly ultra-close quarters—they end up as dead weight. Explosives risk splash damage to my own machine, and the damage to the enemy isn't that great anyway.
In that case...
I switched the category to rail cannons. The cheapest was 75,000 credits—an experimental model from seven years ago. Still usable, probably. Rail cannons aren't explosive, so safe in CQC, and they cover range naturally. Perfect for piercing power and those big one-shots.
Before buying, I ran a build simulation. No overloads or excesses. Confirmed, then hit purchase.
Two items in cart: Delivery in 24 hours.
When I get back, I'll have to swap the frame anyway. Better detach the armor and modules ahead of time.
My Nexus was prepping for a full makeover.
"Rabe, you're back."
And right around when the parts would arrive, the mobile hangar reached the Nest.
Hermann and I stood in a proper hangar—not the mobile one—watching technicians swarm over the Nexus, tuning every inch.
Clang, clang...! The echo of metal on metal filled the vast space.
"The mobile hangar could've handled it," I said, but they insisted manual tweaks by pros were more precise. I started to refuse, but Hermann asked if I'd calibrate everything by hand. I caved.
"By the way, Hermann."
"Hm?"
"I saw something weird during the mission."
I told him about the silhouette beyond the blue sky—not quite moon-shaped, yet immense even at that distance. I stressed it wasn't a trick of the eye and mentioned I had footage from the combat data.
"You're pretty enthusiastic about explaining."
"Ah, well."
"Curiosity piqued, huh? That's human nature."
As I fiddled with the cold stainless IV stand, Hermann crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully.
"But a massive structure in the sky? Never heard of it. If it was there, anyone would've detected it. People aren't idiots."
"The sky's always choked with thunderclouds."
Yeah, since coming to this world, I'd noticed: the sky hung oppressively low far too often. Even when clouds parted, it was just more ashen gray above. That's why the blue sky had stirred me so.
"...Never found that strange?"
"We don't just eyeball the sky. Those thunderclouds? Humanity scorched this planet raw—that's the explanation. No mystery, no questions."
Hermann stroked his thick beard.
"And even if something's up there, what does it matter? People care more about enemies in front of them than unreachable skies."
"Ah..."
"They say long ago, when the world went dark, you'd look up and see stars thick as thieves. Now? They're gone—or even if they're there, folks want bread over untouchable stars."
I nodded.
"No point chasing that now. We're too busy fighting ourselves. Whatever's beyond the sky, handle the fires first, right?"
I nodded again. Pragmatic as hell, but maybe he was right.
Hermann stared at my nodding profile for a while. I almost shot him a what're you looking at? glare, but felt awkward and turned away instead.
Just the sounds of workers for a moment. Then Hermann spoke.
"You said two more commissions before leaving. I've planned to make them count."
"A whole plan...?"
"You took down a mid-to-low rank pilot—a big fish. Can't let you slip away without squeezing every drop."
His face looked almost playfully smirking. Hard to imagine on that serious mug—my brain short-circuited. The mischief vanished, back to his dry expression.
"Soon, a mission. Other mercs joining."
Other mercs? I reflexively looked at him.
"Not ours—external allies we mentioned. Joint op."
Another merc, hired by allied forces. Not enemy, but ally.
My first team-up mission was about to begin.