Nest Invasion Force Interception
Kwaaang!! Two transport ships erupted in flames simultaneously, crumbling to ash.
"Grk! You damn beast! So this is where you've been hiding!"
Of course, it wasn't a Nexus that would be crippled by a single explosion. Scarab's machine burst out of the inferno with only minor damage and charged straight at me. And the remaining one. The Nexus I pegged as the player's...
"An ambush, huh? No holds barred. Not bad at all."
It had detached and dropped away just before the transport blew. That voice crackling over the comm channel, though—it was exactly as expected. A familiar tone that stabbed right into my ear. Sonya Yuran. The player's operator and handler, the voice I'd endured ad nauseam through the entire mission. A quick check of the pilot's ID: ANON. Anon. The default in-game callsign.
A player, after all.
I'd figured as much. But the machine's build was different from what I'd last seen at the Sanctuary No. 3 Power Plant. A close-range weapon mounted on the left arm now, with missiles and a compact bazooka balanced on the back. Main weapon was still that versatile rifle. The frame and armor had changed too—overall, it felt lighter than before.
Made some cash and upgraded, huh?
In the game system, swapping and combining Nexus parts was core content. But in lore, hardly any pilots could handle it. Neural links fused you with the machine; swapping core components felt like your body had been swapped out. In that sense, it screamed "player." Well, I didn't feel any disconnect from changes myself.
As I sized up the player's machine, a shrill voice sliced into the comm channel.
"You think you've caught us off guard? Don't flatter yourself! We've been itching for this! You've just signed your own death warrant! Get your throat ready—I'm coming!!"
Scarab hurtled toward me at full throttle, foaming mad. I ignored him and zeroed in on the player.
Hm?
Scarab's Nexus, on closer inspection... several parts looked subtly altered.
His machine never changed in the game.
That tied into the lore: barring a handful of pilots, part swaps were rare. At most, they'd switch weapons...
Main frame swapped to standard? Why?
Weapons weren't his usual brain-dead heavy machine gun either—balanced mix of close, mid, and long-range. Mid-range seemed primary, but factoring in other scenarios? Not like Scarab at all.
And what's that?
An unidentified weapon on the right forearm, something I'd never seen in-game. A massive... lump. A building pillar? Too reinforced with steel beams for that, and what looked like thrusters attached. Still gave off that scavenged vibe.
What kind of barbaric weapon is that...?
Ominous, but the player came first. I forced my focus back.
Scarab's Nexus bore down; I wrenched Elite into a sharp turn toward the player. Sonya's voice rang out.
"Hm, cold calculation. Prioritizing us, huh? Suits you—after that reckless boarding stunt. Got some wild instincts, do you?"
Reckless boarding of the Nexus.
Sonya's last words made me flinch. Sounded like she knew exactly how I'd first climbed aboard. Like she'd been watching me from the start. But game events wouldn't have put a player there, so... coincidence.
Vrooom!
The instant the player's machine entered lock-on range, I unleashed a missile barrage and kicked off the real fight from the bridge. Lighter overall weight meant even sharper mobility than the old footage. It danced behind cover with surgical precision.
I was about to cruise-mode charge like with the others when—
Kwaaaah!!
The player flipped to cruise mode too, streaking past my rear. As expected. Not some half-baked scrub. Pure, honed human combat instinct.
Thung, thung!!
Bazooka rounds spat fire, birthing massive explosions across the bridge. The makeshift platform buckled, footing vanishing.
Mid-range, distance-keeping style. Got it.
We traded blows amid the collapsing debris, leaping ruins. Charges clashed often now—we were reading each other.
Originally a stack-damage type, close-range finisher on openings... but so many close calls meant they prepped melee regardless. My heart raced every clash.
Shwaaa—
Debris plunged into the sea, spraying water.
"You bastard... ignoring me completely?! Hey, you there!!"
Scarab tried muscling in. "Out of my way! Ally or not, interrupt my fight and you're done!!" he bellowed from afar.
Hired together, and he had no chill. Not a bluff either—he hosed the path with gatling fire, player or no, barreling at me.
"Your opponent's no worthless rookie—it's me!!"
I wanted more player time, but no reason to dodge this. Tough against two, sure—but thrilling. Explosions everywhere like a festival.
Sonya let out an awkward chuckle. "We're the ones outnumbered 2-to-1, but sorry. See, our 'hired teammate' is that guy. Wish he'd chill."
I feinted a charge at the player. Beep! Lock shifted to Scarab; I burst off-path toward him. The player grazed past by a hair.
"Hm...? Not retreating?" Sonya sounded mildly surprised.
Scarab's voice faltered, baffled. "You wanna die? At least show some fear!!"
But he roared back in fury, charging head-on. Same weight class. Dr-r-r-r!! Gatling poured toward my frame. I held speed, straight-line rush—he flinched instinctively.
Paang!
Scarab burst off my path. Predicted it; I burst same direction, same time.
"You little—!!"
Thud!! Rammed him, then SMG burst. He'd burst away next. His gatling, my SMG—firepower gap irrelevant. Bursting from fire was pure survival instinct.
Kwaang!!
Predicted that too; rail cannon fired a beat late. Heavy slug slammed into cooldown-locked Scarab.
"Grk...!!"
Beep, beep! Rear alerts—player missiles. Sandwiched.
Hm...
A thought flashed; I acted. Radar distance gauged missile ETA—past their path-correction limit.
Paang!
Burst on feel; I peeled off Scarab's front.
"What the—grraaah?!"
Kwoogwang!!
Missiles hammered Scarab. A couple corrected to me and blew, but solid payoff.
"Whoops, my bad. Your fault for not dodging."
"You fucking—!!"
"Don't get the wrong idea, though. Looks like you wanna waste that guy quick."
"Damn right! This is my fight! You assholes just barged in!!"
Their bickering faded as Hermann cut in. "Rabe, situation's bad. Use every tool you've got. Why keep fighting both at once?!"
I stayed silent. Sonya, catching it: "Told you—your pilot's not right in the head. Crawled into a bullet storm just to board a single Nexus. The demon you summoned craving power, right?"
"Demon? Rabe's no such thing."
"Even you don't sound convinced."
Sonya's words felt off. Like she truly knew me from before... tracking me since I mounted up. Was Rabe's original pilot...?
The battle raged on amid those thoughts.