The Emptiness After the Final Job
I didn't think there was any point in nitpicking the original plot of intercepting the Nest invasion force now. How often had I even cared about that sort of thing? Whenever something familiar popped up, I'd just go, "Oh, you know XX too, huh?" play it cool for a second, and move on. So even if I ended up fighting the protagonist at this point... I wasn't wringing my hands in anxiety over what the future might hold. There was an enemy in front of me, so I'd fight. That was it. Nothing more.
So why the hell am I feeling so damn glum right now?
It wasn't just blankness—this was full-on gloom, a real downer. Was it because my body was such a wreck? I wandered the facility in a haze, like a lost lamb. The corridor reeked of nothing but bitter iron. Without any destination in mind, I just kept shuffling along until suddenly, it hit me why I was doing this.
Is it because this is the last job they're saddling me with?
Maybe I was getting uncharacteristically sentimental. ...No, on second thought, that wasn't it. I wasn't the type to get nostalgic enough to commemorate an ending.
Maybe I've just gotten into the habit of assuming Hermann would toss another job my way, like it was a given.
I'd said I wouldn't get tied down, that I wouldn't owe anyone shit... but now that this obligation-like routine was ending, maybe a sense of loss was creeping in. What a vicious trick! They'd hooked me with the excuse of paying off a debt after just a few months together, making it so I couldn't slip away easily. Yeah, the best policy was never to give anyone that kind of leverage in the first place.
But tied to people?
I mulled it over, then realized that wasn't quite right either. Thinking of Hermann or anyone else at Nest didn't leave any real lingering attachment. No desire to stick around here longer. So the root of this emptiness inside me was...
Yeah.
What the hell was I supposed to do after it all ended? That kind of loss. The sort a guy fresh off a pink slip might feel.
The woes of a well-fed layabout.
Lost in those thoughts, not paying attention to my surroundings, I kept walking. And walking. And walking...
Sniff sniff.
Suddenly, a nostalgic, familiar scent tickled my nose. My mind snapped back from its solo reverie to reality. Blurry vision. And there, in one corner of the corridor, a large door stood slightly ajar. That comforting, toasty aroma was wafting out from inside.
Screeech...
I cautiously pushed the door open and stepped in. It looked like a library, shelves packed floor-to-ceiling with books.
Didn't know they had a place like this too.
I'd never bothered with anywhere not tied to Nexus ops, so this was news to me. Dragging my heavy IV stand with a clatter, I ventured inside. No jobs on the docket—might as well flip through a few books to lift my mood.
No one's here?
The space was crammed with nothing but shelves. No people, felt more like a warehouse. I grabbed a book from the nearest shelf, right at eye level. Hardback, looked like some general knowledge tome. The plain cover gave it away—those monotonous designs meant to look dignified were a dime a dozen.
Bet the actual content's crammed with text on the cover.
Was this minimalism or what? I sighed and flipped open the cover.
Wriggle wriggle. Black squiggles like letters crawled fuzzily across the page.
Flip, flip. I kept turning pages, trying to make out the contents. It wasn't that I couldn't recognize letters. I'd read monitor text just fine—what kind of nonsense would it be if I couldn't? My eyes were just too trashed now to parse anything properly. Probably had to feed data straight to my brain or print in billboard-sized font.
Sniff.
In the end, I gave up reading and pressed the open book right to my face, inhaling deeply that universal aroma that soothed body and soul.
Printed books are out for me anyway.
Shuffling along, I spotted another book that caught my eye. Extra-large, black cover. Colorful circular images embedded on it. Smooth, coated texture when I touched it.
Heavy...
Gripping it with both hands and grunting, I yanked it out and plopped it on the floor. Now I could see clearly: the round illustrations on the spine were planets and stars. Saturn's rings stood out sharp. Dust coated the exposed paper edges—probably hadn't been opened in ages. The thick coating dulled the feel, but still.
Kid's learning book, huh.
Lots of illustrations, so no big deal even if I couldn't read. The kind stocked in elementary school libraries. I plunked down on the floor and flipped the thick cover.
Instead of white paper, a pitch-black page. But noisy flickers of other colors shimmered across it—stars, I could tell. That thrill you get just from a different hue on the page? I felt it now. Instead of pages, it was deep night sky unfurled.
Flip.
The coated paper was a bit stiff as I turned it carefully, taking in the book. Or...
Not "reading." "Looking" was more accurate. I'd seen plenty in my past life, but viewing them now hit different. Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars... the Sun. Meteors, comets, the Oort Cloud at the solar system's edge. Even major observed stars in the latter half.
Time flew as I stared at the images. Finish it, back to the start. Flip to a favorite page, open randomly, reread from the beginning.
"......"
My face stayed blank the whole time, same dazed expression as always. Honestly, I couldn't even pin down the emotion. Why was I glued to this book? It wasn't that profound. These were just things out there, unreachable beyond the sky.
Yeah, unreachable.
But I emptied my head and kept going until time ran out, slumped in the library corner amid the bookish scent, turning pages.
Enemy expected arrival: 6 hours out.
I boarded the Nexus and the transport ship started ferrying us to Nepels Maritime City.
-This mission, I'll support you directly. It's a critical one, after all.
Hermann was stepping in as my temp operator, like the first mission.
Three hours of flight later, the coastline came into view. Beyond it, the jagged silhouette of the city skyline poked up.
I reached the drop point, hunkered in a hidey-hole, and waited blankly. If this counted as meditation, so be it? Lost in thoughts that'd make any monk rage, Hermann's voice cut in.
-...Rabe, don't push yourself. You haven't recovered from the last mission's damage. You need healing time. I had to send you, but if it gets bad, pull out of the fight. Even now's fine. Head not spinning?
"I'm fine."
-Yeah, you'd say that. Still... this time, put your life above all else. It's not like the last mission wraps everything up.
I let his nagging concern wash over me as time ticked by. The sun dipped, sunset painting the horizon. Outside the hidden port warehouse, the sky burned red.
And then, Hermann spoke up.
-Rabe, enemy contact imminent.
"......"
Click clack. I slotted the chair's pins into my back ports, sharing signals. Consciousness expanded, a awakening rush. Familiar now. After a day of foggy eyes, linking up sharpened everything instantly.
I pressed the pedals just right—like controlling my own body—ramping booster output. The mech slipped out of the warehouse.
Maritime city, huh.
Nothing but ocean around. Nexus could fight at sea thanks to booster thrust, but if the mains crapped out, its weight would sink it deep. I wasn't the diving type.
-Now! Enemy's entered the zone!
The moment Hermann said it, radar pinged two signals. Transport pattern, lugging Nexus. Perfect ambush setup. I climbed to position them in single file.
-Hm...?
A pilot's voice crackled over jammed comms from the transports.
And that instant, an accelerated slug blasted from the rail cannon's muzzle.