Epilogue: The Mad Seraph's Fall

Seraphiel charged in like a mindless beast, not giving a damn about his Nexus's build or anything else. It was my go-to tactic too, but at least I had the excuse of being a close-range rig. He had no such justification.

Feels like a rhino.

If he had any sanity left, he wouldn't have tried that with a rifle in his hands. Even seeing the barrel aimed right at him, he didn't think to dodge outside firing range—instead, he just cranked the output higher. That said it all.

The battlefield was a tunnel. But as I'd felt the whole way in, its scale was off the charts—no typical tunnel ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fight chokepoints or anything.

I calmly tracked the enemy's deranged movements through the cameras and infrared sensors, pumping rounds into him nonstop.

Need a bigger punch.

That's what I realized dumping shotgun shells like crazy. No real turning point in the fight. Maybe make big shots my main loadout. Sustain fire would drop a bit, but compared to these dragged-out slugfests...

I winced at Seraphiel's noisy rant. Anyway, time to wrap this up. I pinned him in a blind spot and unloaded.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Tuduk! Flares popped off out of context. I watched the magnesium-like burn mess with the radar for a bit, then hosed him with missiles once it cleared.

Missiles to blind his front, flank and slam rounds into weak spots.

Kujik! Bullets alone weren't cutting it, so I bashed him with the rifle barrel too. Not a pointed-end job, so minimal effect, but I had to try something.

PRAY's durability dropped fast—to 30% already. People call me a beast in fights, but if you actually fight like one, that's what happens. Fail to recognize you're up against an equal, and you collapse on your own.

Puhuk! Midway through toying with him one-sidedly, one round hit just right. Flames erupted from the rear main booster, output plummeting.

Peobang, peong! Power systems hit, he should've eased off, but Seraphiel kept up the same maneuvers. Small explosions chained off, PRAY steadily self-destructing.

Tidik, tik. Boosters finally couldn't handle the strain; PRAY ground to a halt. Flickers of flame sputtered out, then died.

Kuung, kuung...! Now PRAY was walking on two legs.

Pathetic movements. Even left alone, it couldn't hurt me now...

Tududu!! PRAY fired its rifle hands at me. Weapons weren't wrecked yet, so I fixed that. Crushed the bazooka barrel too. Now it was just scrap stumbling on the ground.

What to do with it? Chop off the limbs and haul just the cockpit? Mission complete.

Yeah, that works.

With Nexus output superiority, I crushed him one-sidedly, shoved the barrel under the limb armor, and fired. Frame groaned a few times; ragged breaths came over comms.

An old-gen reinforcement human would've been bawling and freaking out by now.

Scarab's a prime example.

But this was cutting-edge—safety protocols kicked in, blocking signals past threshold. Still, trapped in the cockpit like a prisoner now.

That's what I thought.

Delirious nonsense? Ignored it and tried binding the cockpit to the main frame.

Wuuuung— [...What?!]

Frame energy spiked; heat sinks deployed all at once. I knew what that meant and backed off fast.

Self-destruct?

I eyed the red-glowing frame. Metals whitened, melting under the heat.

Boostered back hard. Then the tunnel shook.

Bbang— Cameras whited out from the flash. Blinked reflexively, waited for recovery. Amid the white light beams...

Chiiik— Interference? Then...

Charararak. Suddenly, hallucination-like images flashed by. Too quick to process.

Probably forget it right after. But in that irregular static, I caught something for an instant.

A bird in flight, solar panels wide on an orbiting satellite, man and woman aiming guns at each other... Screaming faces of countless people, Nexus face bare of armor in frame state... Images whirled chaotically.

Blinked, and they vanished like they'd never been. I wrote it off as noise. Noise. Ambient static.

Kuuu.... Explosion aftermath—rock debris pattered down.

"......"

I looked ahead. All that remained: a frame blown wide open, charred black. Whatever was inside, no trace left now.

Stared a moment, then turned the Nexus. No point hauling cockpit out anymore.

SIF's presence lingered in my head. Felt like stunned silence.

Whatever.

I shrugged mentally.

His choice.

Silence deepened somehow. Anyway, one unsolved question: What dragged Seraphiel this deep? Hallucinations from insanity?

Mapped the route coming in, so outbound was quick. About an hour up, SIF broke silence.

Then Seraphiel snapped from those two deaths—most logical.

Not full psychosis, but clearly mentally frail. Paranoid delusions drew him here; contamination worsened it.

You couldn't figure it, what makes you think I can? Besides.

SIF's better suited for this. Analog observer me vs. digital SIF—different perspectives.

Nothing for me to add on signal decoding.

Overthinking it.

Exit drew nearer meanwhile. Only bad news to bring back, it seemed. Combat logs intact—no accusations of faking.

Client had every reason to grill me, but took it coolly. Gave off vibe like Seraphiel's fate didn't matter. Imagination?

Didn't even ID the client for sure. Whatever.

No way Hermes Network was primary—made no sense.

AAE then?

AAE swallowing one of their pilots that easy? Elite Nexus squad—didn't fit.

Client identity a fog... How'd they know Seraphiel's situation to issue the hit?

Not my problem.

Checked the new armor material instead. Model not in-game—brand new to me. Killed remaining time skimming the catalog.

"Success with this?"

"If you mean experiment success... eh. But luring one pilot means the bait worked."

"Needs tweaks, but direction's on point."

Operator cross-checked data on tablet, noted analyst's downturned mouth.

"Should be happy—why the long face?"

"Just... doesn't sit right."

Rabe killed again. Not intentional, but death followed her—coincidence or fate.

Analyst crossed arms, pondered the implications.