Picking Up a Giant Robot
'Tin Gulliver... heh.' Even I had to chuckle inwardly at my own joke. The people milling around nearby really did look like the tiny folk from Lilliput.
Kuuuung! As that thought crossed my mind, a roar grew louder from afar, streaking right over my head. A few fighter jets shot across the sky in an instant, vanishing into the distance.
Pyuk! I ducked fast. A stray bullet whizzed nearby, making that distinctive whistling sound.
This place was a hotspot teeming with people. My guess? They were all here to salvage that crashed robot.
Logically, the smart move was to get the hell out for safety's sake... but.
I peeked cautiously over the pile of road debris.
No illusion—it was still there, that massive hunk of metal.
'A robot...'
Not just any robot, but a colossal one, easily over ten meters tall. It shattered everything I knew.
'Stuff like that only shows up in games or movies.'
My dazed mind started turning. A fuzzy fragment surfaced from my shattered memories.
'Game?'
I frowned. Come to think of it, that robot's design looked familiar.
"Ah."
After squinting hard to focus on it for a bit, it hit me.
'Nexus.'
Badly damaged, so hard to recognize at first, but that inhuman silhouette and weapon shapes gave it away. A bipedal combat machine from the mecha game I used to play in my past life.
I'd been a guy back then, so yeah, I loved that kind of romantic gear.
'What was the game called again?'
It had been ages since I last thought about my past life—my head throbbed. Finally, Metal Frame surfaced.
Whatever, game name didn't matter. What did was this:
'Why the hell is it right in front of me?'
A world going to shit, giant bipedal war machines that never existed in my original reality. Game worlds were just reality with a dash of fiction tacked on.
Just like that, my brain snapped the puzzle together.
'So that's it.'
Looks like I didn't just die and wake up—I'd respawned inside the game world.
'Yeah, that makes sense.'
Something clicked into place, and I grinned.
Pyuk! A few more stray bullets zipped past.
'How long are they gonna keep fighting?'
I ducked behind the rubble. Sure, for safety's sake, I could just bail now. No need to dive into a bullet storm.
'Dive in?'
Was I already thinking about charging right into the middle?
But I couldn't stop my lips from twisting into a smirk.
The moment I saw that massive war machine, I knew. Deep down.
'I'm here to pilot that thing.'
Fate. No other word for that baseless urge.
Why else would I drop into a game world? The device on my back had to be for controlling it. Had to be.
I just wanted to believe it. Either way, I was doomed to crawl into that slaughterhouse on my own.
"......"
I calmed my twitching lips and coldly scanned the battlefield.
Metal Frame wasn't a game that poured effort into world-building. You just got dragged along by the big-picture flow. Tons of details went unexplained—like how pilots even looked (never shown) or cockpit controls (no direct info; had to check artbooks indirectly).
I'd played it a lot, but outside the main story beats, I knew jack.
'Can't be helped.'
Time to learn as I go. It was reality now anyway.
Shh-shh-shak. Using crumbled concrete piles for cover, I crept stealthily toward the battlefield.
As I neared the Nexus at its center, details sharpened. I rubbed my blurry eyes and took it in.
'Standard frame, standard armor... weapons unclear; right forearm's wrecked.'
True to its name, Metal Frame let you customize around a core "main frame" chassis, swapping armor and weapons.
Stuff I'd seen in-game, so specs were easy to peg.
'Textbook standard build.'
Same standard parts, but you could tweak frame types or armor for roles— this one was all matching series from one maker. No standout strengths or weird quirks. Mass-produced grunt.
'Not bad.'
The chest cockpit canopy was blown off. Looked like I could hop right in, no extra steps.
'Pilot bought it?'
Bracing to yank a corpse if needed, I locked eyes on the Nexus.
'Even if I mount up, combat's impossible in that state...'
Why'd it crash otherwise? Snag it and bail fast.
'Deal with the rest later.'
Gauging my shot, I slipped undetected to the building propping up the Nexus.
"Haa, haa."
Breath burned in my throat after that short sprint. Malnourished twig of a body, shitty health—par for the course.
Shouts echoed nearby.
'Sneaking up'll be tough.'
Even if they were busy shooting each other, the Nexus was the prize. Plenty of eyes on it.
Had to be quick. No hesitation.
"......"
Gulp. From the shadows, I stared up at the Nexus and swallowed.
'Can I even climb that?'
Too damn big. No good handholds.
Pondering, I glanced at my hiding building. Half-collapsed but tall enough to lean against the Nexus.
A good idea sparked.
Others had the same idea—plenty of people inside the building. But like outside, they were busy fighting each other.
Darkness and apathy as cover got me up to where the Nexus's shoulder was visible.
Whoooosh— cold wind howled.
Screw up a step and I'd plummet to my death. Or at least break something.
Had to slink into the cockpit before they noticed.
'Fuck it, let's do this.'
No hesitation—I leaped into open air.
A moment of floaty weightlessness.
Kudang! Confirmed I wasn't dead, eyes snapped open to scan around.
The Nexus's massive head loomed, dominating my view.
"......!"
But only for a second. I threw myself toward the cockpit opening on the shoulder.
Every muscle screamed, but I bit it down.
"Ugh!"
Another crash, then darkness. A cozy darkness wrapped me up.
"Cough, cough."
Easier than expected. Thought a few bullets would graze me.
I rose slowly, checking the space I'd landed in.
'No corpse.'
Pilot bailed? Empty seat blinking red in the cockpit, waiting.
But eyeing the seat, I frowned.
'What? Nothing here?'
Just a plain chair. No neural link for my back implant. Not even a pin.
"Hm."
Instead, behind the seat dangled wires hooked to a blocky silicon chunk studded with metal needles.
'Plugs into something.'
Yanked it—perfect height for a seated adult's neck.
Shh. Ran a hand over my neck hopefully. Nothing. Just normal skin.
"......"
Stoic, I sat anyway. Might work crudely without linking.
'Why else all these buttons and levers?'
Monitors flashed red with error gibberish.
Complicated, but boiled down to this.
Fucked. But too early to quit.
> [Sys##tem ^$% Booting... Re$%^checking environment.]
Poking buttons for minutes accidentally rebooted it. Good sign.
Jijik— But so wrecked, post-reboot it just spewed noise.
Thud, thud! Tapped the screens; readable lines flickered through the static.
Bits legible, but my eyes locked on one spot.
'ID... Rabe...? Rabe...?'
Rabe. Rabe. Previous pilot's callsign, probably.
'Don't remember it from the game.'
Only ranked named pilots showed up. Must've been a scrub.
Shrugged and gripped the controls. Engines hummed to life; Nexus jolted hard.
'Sorry, gotta borrow this.'
Not returning it—that's hijacking. Owner's gone anyway.
Nice Nexus you got there.
-"Huh? Wha...! That thing...!"
-"Fuck! Why's it moving?!"
Kuwoong...! Amid the chaos, the Nexus finally heaved its bulk upright.