Fallen Angel: The Knight's Swan Song
Fallen Angel.
Once Don Quixote was taken down, the exo-frame squads waiting outside surged in. No need to worry about harming him anymore, so their movements were unrestrained.
Their attacks were so ferocious they even caused friendly fire and team kills among themselves. The ones firing exo-frame extinguishers were no issue, but those equipped with bazookas were a problem.
Of course, they were just exo-frames. I slipped between them, forcing them to bleed each other out. Then, as they hesitated in the chaos, I sprayed bullets to widen the gap.
Too draining to wipe them all, and a hassle besides. Dealing with the exo-frame squad barely scratched the surface—it was even boring.
The squad couldn't catch me as I shifted to cruise mode and pulled away from the battlefield.
In-game, taking down just Don Quixote wouldn't complete the mission either.
To be precise, reaching him meant breaking through his Idalgo Family guard detail first. Couldn't advance without clearing them, so inevitably, it meant total annihilation.
Lucky this is reality—no invisible walls to slow things down.
I leisurely withdrew, leaving their furious shouts behind. They ranted about principles and such, but they didn't truly believe it themselves. In a fight for survival, that stuff fades fast. You realize good and evil are shockingly blurry in this world.
In the end, it's all stubbornness.
Clank!
Back at the mobile hangar, I sent the engagement data to the client, AAE, then crashed immediately. Piloting a Nexus once and then sleeping had become routine.
Data transmission complete.
Ding!
Right as I stirred awake, a reply from AAE arrived. Rubbing my bleary, burning eyes, I dazedly watched the debrief video.
True to his word, it was an elegy. Closer to an inscription than anything.
The archaic form evoked some ancient, nameless poem.
Don Quixote de la Mancha, who could not abide injustice and was thus more faithful than any other.
You gladly threw yourself into the fray for the good you believed in, becoming a friend to the weak even as you were torn and shattered.
The world pointed fingers and mocked, but we know the truth: your mind was clear.
A bit long for an inscription—wouldn't fit on a single stone. Better call it an elegy.
And we know this too: in a world gone mad, the sane one seems the lunatic.
So grieve not, for you were not alone in your stubbornness.
To be frank, black-and-white means nothing in this world—but without something to believe in, a person crumbles.
You made us stubborn like you.
May peace and dreams settle at the end of that fight.
One final line.
Knight of sorrowful visage, who wept for reality in your unyielding stubbornness—farewell.
The Idalgo Family. If they were just Don Quixote's followers, they'd be a rootless rabble thrown together haphazardly. No way most had any real education in this world, so their elegy was mimicry at best—no real refinement.
Payment. Nothing special to discuss—just credits and done.
Oh, right—the test bullshit. Forgot about those grating words.
Never wanted in to begin with. Hilarious they're squabbling over something worse than a dog's bark. I bolted from even contracting with Hermann—leashing myself to a corp? Hard pass.
The handler spoke with heavy pressure.
I killed the video before the boilerplate "Arc Angel welcomes talent" end credits.
Click, click.
Shutting down the Nexus systems one by one, prepping to exit. Disconnecting from the neural port dulled sensation in my lower body to an extreme degree.
Ugh...
Still a shitty feeling. I twisted around, struggling to grab the overhead handle.
Hiss—
Finally gripped it, popped the hatch, and climbed out.
Even that took about ten minutes of contorting my whole body.
"Ugh... haa..."
Out of the Nexus, I sprawled flat, gasping for breath. After all that, drenched in sweat, blood pressure low—skin felt cold. Arm up: auxiliary devices blinking red, active.
Sleepy.
Back at the mobile hangar, napped hard in the Nexus already. Out now, and sleepy again? What sloth is this.
But nothing stopped me from sleeping—no obligations, no one yelling to wake up.
Wow.
Ideal NEET life. Sleep when sleepy.
The Nexus had cooled nicely inside the hangar—perfect temp, aside from the sweat making it clammy.
Not bad sleeping on the Nexus either.
I flopped onto it and passed out. Probably unlocked the "Double Sleep" achievement. Some window must've popped up somewhere.
* * *
Vrrr—
I lifted my heavy eyelids, consciousness surfacing again.
What time is it...?
No clue. Screwed. Circadian rhythm totally wrecked.
"Nngh..."
Struggled to roll over atop the Nexus, peered at the tiny viewport in the distance.
The sky was an eerie blend of purple and pink—color of dusk or dawn when sunset clouds mix at the horizon.
"Hmm."
Dusk? Dawn? No idea. Gave up guessing morning or evening, went limp.
Arms dangling off the edge, swaying. Felt like I could stay like this forever.
Right now... just wanna stay put.
But...
Vrrr—
Felt it since waking.
Why's the Nexus powered on?
Not moving, but generator idling—power on.
Wanna laze, but can't ignore. Opened my eyes.
As expected, lights in the Nexus cameras.
"SIF, what's up...?"
Called SIF, but an unexpected voice replied.
"RNNE has been delegated authority. Synchronizing with Nexus database, organizing and analyzing engagement data."
"Linne...?"
Not SIF's male voice—a feminine one. Why was Linne suddenly speaking through the hangar speakers?
No clue.
"Pilot RABE. Considering your physical condition, initiating morning wake-up routine."
"Routine?"
Never asked for one.
But RNNE bulldozed ahead via the speakers.
"Commencing morning rehab exercise routine. Please disembark Nexus and move to the gangway."
Felt like I'd suddenly sprouted a nag. Out of nowhere.