As soon as Marian said, "Encounter," something massive dropped from the sky.
It landed right in front of them, hitting the broken road with a thunderous crash, cracking the asphalt and blasting dust outward. He and Marian dove behind the nearest covers—a rusted vending machine listing to one side, half its front torn away and mossy concrete road blocker. Bits of shattered glass rattled as Marian slammed against it.
Marian's gun was already in her hands. With practiced ease, she slid upward and peeked over the top.
Her Commander, following the suit of his subordinate, forced himself to look as well.
A huge, disc-like body floated on four narrow legs, each step gouging the street. At the center of the disc, a single red eye(?) glowed like a drop of boiling, glowing blood. Two jointed appendages rose from the top.
One enemy. For now.
Marian took a breath, shoulders settling, barrel aligned. Then she popped fully up and opened fire. Bullets tore through the air in a controlled burst, hammering straight into the red sphere.
The thing spasmed. The glow flickered once, then died. The machine collapsed with a grinding screech.
Another identical shape dropped into its place before the first even hit the ground.
Marian ducked back behind cover just as both appendages on the new enemy flashed. Gunfire tore through the space they'd occupied a second ago, rounds chewing up shattered asphalt and chipped metal.
So those "appendages" were guns. A barrel-mounted guns. Of course they were.
And those "robots" were trying to kill them.
When the volley finally paused, Marian didn't hesitate to take her chance. She slid out from behind the vending machine, braced, and returned fire—another controlled burst drilled straight into the glowing red eye. The second machine spasmed, sparks erupting from its core, and crashed down in a shower of metal.
But it still wasn't over.
Soon after, three more dropped from above—a whole squadron replacing the smoke. Three more of the disc-bodied Raptures landed hard, flanked by two new types. The smaller ones looked like giant severed heads with two animal-like, yet artificial-looking legs bolted to their sides. On the other hand, the larger ones resembled the first enemies, but their bodies were more egg-shaped than disc, bulkier and somehow faster.
All the bigger Raptures opened fire at the same time, forcing both of them to take cover.
The street turned into a storm of bullets. Rounds chewed up asphalt, punched dents into their cover, and set the vending machine whining with ricochets. Marian crouched low, counted the rhythm between volleys, and used this opportunity to reload with smooth, practiced speed, preparing herself for counterattack.
The instant the barrage stopped, Marian snapped into a firing stance and started taking them out—one after another.
Fire, duck, reload. Fire, duck.
Constantly switching between firing her gun and hiding, she worked the openings like they were gifts the enemy didn't realize they were giving. Every shot was deliberate. Every movement had purpose. Watching her, he felt his pulse pounding in his throat—because this wasn't luck. This was someone built for this.
One by one, the Raptures fell, joining a growing scrap heap of twisted legs and ruined cores.
Then the next wave came. A smaller one.
Fewer. But worse.
Metal spheres stalked toward them on four mantis-like legs, joints snapping and re-aligning with insect precision. And behind them—leading them—came the tallest Rapture yet. Two cannons were mounted to its main body, each wrapped in three additional stretching appendages that flexed like mechanical tentacles.
No time to waste.
She popped up and started with the smaller ones. A rag glowing core burst—sparks and fragments spayed on the asphalt. Another stumbled, a leg blown clean off, then collapsed. She moved on rhythm now, switching between firing and cover so cleanly it looked like choreography.
A shot grazed her left leg. Another clipped her shoulder. She didn't flinch—only adjusted, kept firing, kept closing the gap to the leader. When the last of the mantis-legged spheres hit the ground, Marian inhaled once, steadied her barrel, and aimed straight into the glowing orb at the boss's center.
Only the leader remained.
Its cannons flared. The appendages spread wide, tracking them. Marian shifted her footing, ignoring the sting of minor hits and the angry sparks that danced off her bed.
The leader's cannons charged, the red core glowing more ominously—
Marian fired first.
Her bullets punched into the core. Light twisted violently, arced, then the machine convulsed and tore itself apart, collapsing in a smoking, sparking heap. Marian took a couple minor hits in the exchange, but she stayed upright.
"All enemies down," Marian announced, her voice turning clipped and neutral again. "Transitioning to non-combat state.".
"Wow…" he breathed, realizing he'd been holding his own breath.
What are those things? Are they those "Raptures" Marian spoke of? And… How did Marian manage to take all of them?
With the immediate danger gone, he finally really saw where they were.
As the situation had calmed down, the soon-to-be Commander for the first time could see where he really was. The place they currently are, was… a devastated city. An empty desolated and discarded town one can only see during some kind of end-of-the-world movie or total war game.
What happened here? Where am I? And… how did I get here?
"Argh… My leg…''
He turned sharply. Marian was wincing, one hand pressed to her left leg just below the knee. The place where Marian's left leg was hurt. The fabric was torn, revealing not bone and muscle, but twisted metal plates and cable clusters.
She's… a machine?
"Are you hurt?"
"I suppose you could say that," she said, calm despite it. "Hurt, or rather… malfunctioning? Either way, my mobility hasn't been affected."
The torn fabric around her shin exposed a mess of metal plates, fractured fragments, and cable clusters beneath—mechanical innards peaked from injury. But when she shifted, red liquid seeped and dripped through the gaps between the machinery, pooling and sliding down in slow streaks. The exposed components made it obvious the leg was cybernetic, yet the blood—or whatever passed for it—made the injury look painful.
It might be a bit wasteful to do but still…
He checked his pockets for anything that could be of use. Somehow, there it was:
A compact first-aid kit. Gauze. Bandages.
Not ideal, but still better than nothing. He crouched beside her and started wrapping the wound as carefully as he could.
Marian, though, looked less relieved and more concerned, her attention snagging on the sheer wastefulness of the gesture. He ignored it and kept working anyway.
"Um… Commander… This isn't of much use to a Nikke."
Nikke? What was a Nikke? And… why did she say it like that explained everything?
Nikke. The word felt important.
"…" Marian didn't really know how to react this sudden act of goodwill, leaving her quite puzzled. It was rather unusual… or rather bizarre for any Commander to behave like that.
Still, she didn't pull away. When he finished, she stared at the bandage for a beat, then back at him—puzzled, almost uncertain.
"Nonetheless, I… appreciate the gesture. Thank you, Commander," It seemed to still be a pleasant surprise.
"I thought you'd be more of a rough and tumble kind of person," Marian shared her… concerns? Or maybe relief?
"Let's keep moving. The rendezvous point should be close by."
***
A few minutes later after their first battle, when his racing mind managed to cool down, he was finally able to take a better look at the city around them.
As they walked toward their destination, the only scenery unfolding before their eyes was blend of destruction and nature's overgrowth.
The skeletal remains of buildings stretched out in every direction, many barely holding onto their original forms. Time and chaos had taken their toll—some structures leaned at dangerous angles, while others had snapped in half or collapsed entirely, reduced to rubble and overrun by a lush resurgence of all types of greens.
Grass and small bushes sprouted defiantly from cracks in the concrete and asphalt, while here and there, small trees emerged from larger gaps in the broken pavement and roads, although some of them were either snapped in half or burned to a crisp.
Massive chunks of debris from once-towering buildings lay strewn across the ground, with their exposed steel reinforcements jutting out like broken bone, creating numerous obstacles no matter which path they chose.
Amid the ruins, a few skyscrapers still stood, defiant against the odds, looming above their heads. Their exteriors were stripped of most glass, leaving hollow, jagged windows that made them resemble empty, concrete sponges. Unlike the debris-laden streets below, these structures had resisted the encroachment of grasses and bushes, though vines and moss clung stubbornly to their walls, draping the facades in a tapestry of green.
While traces of human civilization that thrived here were still evident, the people that used to live here, whoever they had been, were long gone - and it seemed they would never return.
"So… " Marian's voice broke the silence as they walked. "Commander, coming back to my question from earlier. Can you tell me from which section you are?"
Arata blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. "Umm… Sorry. It… doesn't ring any bells." Right now he could not remember anything prior to waking up from that wreckage of the transport vehicle.
"You don't remember anything…?" Marian asked, her tone softening with cautious concern. "Then… Oh! How about your name? Do you at least remember that?"
"Umm… Sorry. Still nothing," the future Commander admitted. He really couldn't remember anything about himself.
"Oh no… You must have hit your head pretty hard. It'd be better to rest and recover, at least a little. We can't have you wonder around with amnesia in a place like this!"
Marian's worried yet somehow-intense gaze lingered on him—round, dark yet clear blue eyes filled with concern. The future Commander look way, suddenly feeling awkward under her stare.
The details of this skeletal remains of the post apocalyptic city weren't the only thing he noticed.
It was hard not to see that Marian, his only companion in this desolated world, was a striking figure in her own right that felt… out of the place.
Her face was youthful, almost girlish, with delicate features and long lashes framing those vivid eyes. Silky, slightly wavy chocolate-brown hair fell loosely to one side, tied with a bright blue ribbon that left her left profile unobstructed.
She had the kind of figure girls might spend a lifetime of dieting and workout trying to catch—a narrow, impossibly trim waist flaring into the gentle, perfect curve of her hips. Her chest was full and high, straining subtly against the tight fabric of her uniform with every breath. Her backside, rounded and firm, balanced the hourglass shape in a way that seemed designed to draw the eye.
Not to mention her uniform.
While functional, it was also… unapologetically risqué.
It clung to her like liquid fabric, tracing every curve with ruthless precision and revealing more than it concealed. The sleeves hung separate from the main body, leaving her shoulders bare and the smooth line of her collarbone fully exposed. Strategic cuts in the design teased without granting answers—a fleeting flash of skin at her sides, a subtle glimpse of curve that made the imagination work overtime, trying to picture how the rest looked like.
Her legs, long and toned, were clad only in stockings, the sheer fabric framing rather than hiding their shape. The main section of her outfit covered her front, but the tailoring and slashes were placed so deliberately that the mind was left wondering what else might be seen from the right angle. Every detail of the uniform—every seam, every opening—seemed calculated to draw the eye and test restraint, as if it were an unspoken dare wrapped in black fabric and bare skin.
All of that made her persona all the more… distracting.
It was challenging to remain completely composed with a stunner like her as sole companion. Keeping his focus on surrounding terrain and on the fact that just moments ago met a group of Raptures trying to kill them, helped him in that area.
"Maybe we can find something on you…" Marian suggested.
After a minor investigation of his pockets, following Marian's train of thoughts, he found something that looked like an ID card. Plastic, neon-green, plastic rectangle containing a picture of a little bit androgynous, yet definitely male face with slightly shaggy, spiky, pitch-black hair and intense crimson-red eyes.
"Arata… Kasuga," he read aloud from card.
Arata Kasuga. Is that… my name? And this is how I look like?
"If my face matches the one I have on that card, then I guess… my name is Arata Kasuga," said Arata handling his card over to Marian. "Can you look, if picture matches?"
Marian, after carefully comparing the face of her new Commander with picture in document, confirmed. "Yup. It's perfect match. Almost as if it was made yesterday."
After returning ID, Marian resumed her previous stance. "Commander Arata, we were deployed four hours and thirty six minutes ago. Our mission is reaching and assisting the squad that was deployed to search for Nikkes that went missing three days ago. The Commander of their squad was killed in mission, and his squad can not continue the mission without order of authorized Commander."
The squad that was deployed to search for Nikkes that went missing.
And once again, he was forced to face the truth: he didn't know anything helpful, even for himself. What does "Nikke" even mean? Why this whole place was filled with those "Raptures"? Why those aberrant creatures try to kill them? And… what exactly is Marian? How she could fight raptures so well? And… Why Marian seems so disheartened when talking about those missing "Nikkes"?
"But… considering our current situation. Maybe… it would be wise to… abandon the mission," said Marian. Her voice clearly contained sad… or maybe resigned tone.
But before Arata could say anything, the other part of Marian report stopped him.
The Commander of their squad was killed in mission.
Those few words struck Arata like truck that hits so hard that causes people to be sent to another world. For the first time the gravity of pair's situation dawned on him, forcing him to realize that they were in death or life situation. They were, after all, in place filled with killer robots hellbent on eliminating them.
Let's keep the conversation going. Maybe I will learn something helpful. Something that will help me not to die.
"Let's say for the moment that we scrap the mission—what happens to those "Nikkes" you mentioned earlier?" pushed Arata.
"Well… Considering how we lost our current equipment, if we return to Ark, the squad of deceased Commander they will probably forced to stay on surface until Command Center reorganizes squad, prepares new transport ship and sends those reinforcements on mission only after all necessary documentation is finished. But speaking about the missing in action… they will be probably dead by that time."
Dead? What does she mean…? What are those "Nikkes" if they can die?
"Dead? What do you mean?"
"Well… Even we are Nikkes, we still aren't invincible. As long as we keep our heads safe, we have the hope to get ourselves saved. But here, on surface… a lost Nikke rarely ever get themselves found alive."
"…"
Marian… she said she was Nikke.
So… they all are… No. Keep it cool. Keep it together. Don't panic, you need to be sure. You need to be absolutely sure.
"So… even for Nikkes like you, fighting those Raptures is still dangerous. You sure you are Nikke and not some civilian in a… sexy secretary outfit?"
"Wha—! C-Commander!" Marian's voice stuttered, clearly flustered. "That's—That's just plain rude! Do you seriously think I'm some random stray who slipped into a uniform, grabbed a gun, and came to the surface for fun of it?!?!"
Marian steeped closer and locking eyes with him.
"Listen up, Commander. Each and every Nikke—including me—was made to fight in war with Raptures. I still remember my life as human and when I underwent Nikke conversion and had my brain transplanted to this body! Understand?!"
She got her face even closer, like sister scolding her little brother "I am Nikke. I am here, having my brain inside this military body to fulfil my mission. I am here for purpose, NOT to fool around. Understand, Commander?!"
"You shouldn't joke like that on the surface. If you still intent to be such a child in the middle of a war zone, I can't promise you won't get hurt by throwing such insensitive jokes around," it seem that Arata's little comment made Marian very indignant about her not being "random stray".
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Arata apologized quickly in surrender "I… might have gone too far."
"Hmph. As long as you understand," pouted Marian.
Turning his head away from pouting Marian, his expression immediately soured. It would be better if his face was not seen at the moment.
So.. all those Nikkes… they are all… humans. Their brains are put in cybernetic bodies. And… fighting those killer machines… those Raptures. Assuming… that what Marian said was true…
It was another shocking revelation. This world and everything in it just felt so… strange. So… alien.
What am I doing here? How did I get there? Why everything feels so distant? I wish I could remember something. I really do not want to be in the same place as those killer robots.
Suddenly, drilling pain run through his head. Unbearable agony, like hundreds of leeches were trying to chew on his brain, leaving him on his knees, barely managing to stay conscious. The growing sensation started and spread from back of his neck and made its way through base of his skull, back of his head, the top and finishing on his forehead.
"Aaah… AAAaaaahh.''
Flashes of fragmented images and voices bangled together rushed through his brain.
***
B̸̟͎̫̿͛͂́ĺ̸̤̱̣͇͛a̵̰̜͕̠̽c̴̛͓̩̬̾͆k̷͕̭̦̋͝ ̷̝̥̔̎͆͝S̷̲̄ȗ̷̲̥n̶̪̋.
A sky radiating with darkness. City slowly crumbling under it's sinister light.
And g̵̘̾̆ȉ̷̭r̶̮͐̔l̶̻̃͗, with blurred face, before him, giving him tiny ḅ̸͋̋ö̶͖̝ȏ̷̳̗̀k̵͙̝͌ encased in chains. Her voice, gentle, soft and trembling, filled with an aching plea.
Even when I'm gone, please wake up on time in the morning. And eat three meal a day. Hang your clothes after you wash them every three day, or they'll get get wrinkly. And you need to clean regularly or the place will get filthy
And…
And…
Please… don't forget me…
***
"Ha… ha… ha… ha…"
"Commander! Are you alright?" Marian's concerned voice cut through the haze of pain, her hands firmly gripping Arata's shoulders as she steadied him. His breaths were shallow, his head throbbing with the remnants of the vision that had clawed its way through his mind. He felt like he'd been struck by a sledgehammer, his brain pounding against the inside of his skull.
"I'm fine… just a… headache."
Marian's face remained tense, her round blue eyes filled with concern as she scanned his expression.
"Headache?" Her eyes narrowed. "Commander, you look like you've seen a ghost. Sit down for a moment. Now."
Sweat dripped down his face as the intense pain slowly began to subside. He was still on his knees, supporting himself on ground with trembling hands, barely keeping from fainting.
Marian, after helping him sit down without falling off, started run additional check ups on her Commander.
Arata, still recovering from his shock, tried to make sense of the flashes of memory that had just surged through his mind.Was this city the same one he'd seen crumbling in his memory? The thought lingered, but he couldn't be certain. That would at least explain why city was destroyed but… this overgrow would not match. the city he was right now, was already a half forest. Numerous scenarios appeared, but none could really make sense of anything that happened since his waking up. But… for some reason, together with those memories, a certain feeling appeared. It wasn't clear—barely a nudge, a faint pull. But this feeling stubbornly lingered in his chest, refusing to be sniffed out, without taking action.
"Hey, Marian."
"Yes?"
"If we scram the mission, those Nikkes will probably die for sure, aren't they?"
"If we put it bluntly…Yes. After a certain amount of time, the chances of finding missing Nikkes alive… drops significantly."
"I see…" sighed Arata.
Arata couldn't quite understand why, but… the thought of leaving people to their deaths, gnawed him, giving him stirring an uncomfortable weight in his throat. It did not feel right to simply remain a passive deadweight, while someone was about to die not so far away.
"Marian."
"Yes?"
"We will continue the mission. If we already are in this mess, we can as well make the most of it."
"Understood, Commander. I will do my upmost to assist you."
"And… since… I don't really have any experience… can I ask you… for some guidelines… along the way?"
Marian stood frozen. Her wide open eyes stared at him like he was some kind of weird animal. Did he said something wrong? Marian blinked. Then again. And again. Her expression softening as a small smile broke through her stern demeanor.
"Guidelines, Commander?" she said, a hint of embezzlement creeping into her voice. "It's not every day I hear that from someone in your position. Usually, Commanders act like they know everything, even when they don't."
"Well, it's my first mission. I can't really say I know much. Or anything much. I might as well learn from practice."
Marian's complicated expression lingered on her face, many different emotions filtered in her eyes.
"I… I will do my best," said Marian after determining herself. "I may not look like, but I have few mission on my back."
"Well, I'm counting on you."
As Arata readied himself for further, he saw that consternated look on Marians face. Although Arata was basically amnesiac greenhorn in middle of the war zone that should be questioned what is he doing here, he could tell from a tiny hint of embarrassment that it wasn't what Marian was anxious about.
"Marian?"
"Ah. Yes?"
"Is there something on your mind? Besides my… lack of experience."
"Oh. No. Nothing really. It just…" Marian hesitated, her voice more reserved and discreet than usual. "Commander, the thing you mentioned earlier. About my… uniform."
What did I mention about her uniform… I didn't really commented about her suit. I mostly asked her some questions about our situa…
Aaaah, this is what she means. My tease about "sexy secretary outfit."
"Commander?"
He thought about lying. Then shrugged internally. Arata decided to honestly answer and complement—well, his version of complement.
He gave her a firm thumbs-up, a faint, crooked grin tugging at his lips. "Don't worry, Marian. It's wonderfully lewd outfit. Truly an eye candy."
Her face went bright red.
He barely avoided her elbow.
***
Few hours later, after their decision to stay on mission, they both soon found themselves falling into awkward yet somehow functional rhythmic routine. Their dynamic, though unconventional and completely backwards of what Commander and Nikke's relationship should to be, had already began to take the shape and worked.
Despite his Commander rank, Arata being completely clueless and unprepared, could only follow Marian, listening to her makeshift lessons and stayed out of her way in case of Rapture encounter. Arata could not provide any actual support or give any sensible orders, so at least he could was to make sure he's not hindrance.
Marian, on the other hand, being more experienced soldier, took more proactive role in their relationship. With unsure yet very determined and hopeful demeanor, Marian, to best of her abilities, guided Arata through basics of surface operation and Rapture encounters, teaching him how to find safe covers and navigate through devastated landscape. Marian shared her limited experience of reality on surface with him, all making sure that no Raptured had any chance of harming her Commander during each and every encounter.
Yet during fights with Raptures, Marian, in mater of milliseconds, fully changed into different person. Whenever Rapture showed themselves in front of them, any traces of soft-spoken and innocent girl vanished from Marian in instant. Every sights of her warmth, soft concern and bright were gone, replaced by coldly efficient and emotionless cyborg soldier focused of eliminating enemy before her. Her reflexes were sharp, her aim precise and her movement contained no wasted movement, fighting Raptures like it was some kind of cold necessity.
But after each battle Marian quickly came back to her usual self. Concerned, up-tide and serious without being cold and condescending which would be quite justified considering circumstances and Arata's complete lack of any combat knowledge.
However, her bright attitude, despite their predicaments, did not meant that she could not be angry at him. After his shameless joke about her outfit, Marian had given him a quick but very solid scolding, short enough not to waste time but thorough enough to ensure he got the message.
And the thumbs up did not help.
Arata had half-expected her to chew him out until his ears fell off, just to make sure her message was properly delivered to his brain.
Yet, even as she turned away to continue their mission and scan the area for any more threats, a small pout tugged at her lips. Her brows furrowed, and she huffed softly, clearly exasperated but unwilling to let the moment distract them for too long.
Good thing Marian couldn't stay mad at him for long—because, despite his inexperience, the lessons she had drilled into him were already starting to prove their worth.
"Commander, listen closely. The battlefield isn't just about bullets—it's about observing the battlefield, reading your enemy and staying one step ahead. That's where your role comes in. You may not be on the frontlines with a weapon, but you're the brain of the operation."
***
"Did you see those Rapture's cores?"
"You mean those red, glowing orbs?"
"Yes. You have to watch them carefully. Right before they attack, they charge up—they emit a pulse, a flicker in their core. After the attack signals gather in the core of Rapture, they'll start to attack. If we take the Rapture before the attacks signals stabilize, we can avoid being attacked."
***
"The one who decides which Rapture to attack is you, Commander. So you may not be exactly on who shoots, but you are the one who gives direction. That means, you always have keep your mind in battle and keep you attention on any changes."
***
"Sometimes, when encountering multiple Raptures, I might not be able to take down all of them before their attacks signals stabilize, so you have to keep an eye on those that manage to prepare for attack and issue command to take cover before they manage to hit the target."
***
"Raptures aren't subtle. They click, hum, or grind their gears, but for the most part their only attack pattern is to strike on masse. They might attack in different way like lasers, bullets or even flying blades and tentacles but they do not form any plan beyond going forward and shooting target in front of them."
***
"Raptures rarely act alone. Among them there is hierarchy and you can divide Raptures into five classes: Husk, Servant, Master, Lord and Tyrant. In your fight against the Raptures, you will encounter high-ranking enemies, like Master and classes above, that are acting leaders of those groups. These are your targets."
***
After those few yet very important lessons, Arata somehow started orient himself in his role. His commands were still awkward—hesitant, slightly delayed—but nevertheless, he was giving them. It was surprisingly easy to get used to battle.
Although, Arata sometimes felt the itch to simply jump and join the fray himself, he managed to restrain himself. It's not like he could do much more than what he was doing now. He had no weapon, no training that he could consciously recall and no cybernetic enchantments like Marian had.
Marian noticed the change too. Her responses became smoother, quicker, more in sync with his directions. She became more trusting in his command. It wasn't perfect—far from it—but it was something. Something akin to start, at least. And to thing that just few hours ago, her Commander could not even remember what Raptures were. One could even say that was promising start of bright military career of new Commander.
Or it would be… if it weren't for the recurring headache Arata felt.
Ever since that strange memory surge, the dull pain reoccurred behind Arata's eyes. This time, the pain wasn't anything mayor, it was just…nagging. Like the kind of headache you get from staying up too late staring at a screen. It came and went, with every time it came back, more bearable. Still it was annoying enough to make him rub his temples now and then. He tried to hide it, but Marian have noticed that, regardless.
"We're almost there. Are you feeling all right?"
"A little dizzy, but I'm fine."
"Your heart had stopped back there, but I managed to resuscitate you. If you're tired of walking, I can carry you," Marian offered, almost too quickly, too eagerly.
"I'm okay."
"It's nothing, really," she insisted, her voice growing just a bit too cheerful. "Carrying you is like lifting a feather for me. Come on."
There it is again. That tone. But, I'm not giving in.
He couldn't help but think Marian got a little too much enjoyment out of helping her "poor little Commander". She wasn't teasing or mocking, not exactly. But there was definitely something playful spark lurking behind her words. Her bright eyes and easy smile, just on the verge of smugness, made it clear she found a strange kind of satisfaction in all this. Maybe it was pride in her own strength. Maybe she like to show of a little. Or maybe, just maybe, she liked to have someone who appreciated her efforts.
Still, Arata wasn't going to give in that easily. He could not allow himself to be carried like some sack of potatoes.
"I can walk by myself. Don't worry."
"If you insist…" she relented on the idea. "In that case…"
Marian quickly came to his side and grabbed his arm.
"At least hold onto me a bit. Let me know if you need a rest."
"…I'll keep that in mind," Arata didn't want to argue with her—after all, if not for Marian, he wouldn't even make out from the crash. And from the eager—to—help look in her eyes, it was clear she might double down on the idea that it would be better for her to keep him safe.
"Roger. Let's keep moving then."
They moved forward together, with Marian holding his hand. Though Arata felt a spec of embarrassment at needing such corny support, he couldn't deny that Marian's steady grip helped him keep his balance. His episodes of headaches were getting better but still, they came in unsettling waves, disruptions his focus at the worst moments. Yet with Marian holding him, with each step he managed to walk this pain off.
"… We've got Raptures up ahead. I don't see any way around them."
"Stay here and wait for me. This will all be over soon."
"No" he replied.
"Wha…!"
"I am the Commander. And that means I do my job. Understood?"
"But…"
"Marian. No buts. I'm going as well."
Marian looked at him with shock. Just moments ago he was clueless wreck of a person that needed her guidance through absolute basics and now he assertively, almost to stubborn degree, decided his stance even though she offered easier alternative, an excuse to stay safe.
"I… I understand. Let's do this."
****
"It should be somewhere around here…" Marian said, scanning the broken skyline. "Huh? Where is everyone? Did the plan change after the transport ship crashed?"
They managed to get to the supposed reservoir point—at least, according to Marian. But, truth to be said, Arata would not be able to tell the difference. This place was just as empty as anywhere else. Desolate. Lifeless. Silent. There were no signs of movement, no trace of friend or foe. Just the same eerie silence that clung to everything up here, just as everywhere, unless they encountered some Raptures.
Then—
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
The sharp cacophony of gunfire thundered in otherwise silent air. Arata tensed, surprised by this noice. Marian's posture, on the other hand, shifted on instant. Both of them took cover behind the wall of half collapsed building that happened to be next to them. Marian 's eyes narrowed as she assessed the direction of the voice.
"!! Gunfire!" Marian barked, already sprinting in motion. "Let's go check it out!"
Arata stumbled for a moment before catching himself and running after her. The dry wind whipped past them as their boots pounded against fractured concrete and debris-littered asphalt. The city around them blurred into a collage of twisted rebar, shattered glass, and crumbling facades.
Once they reached the place, the scene that greeted them was… unusual.
Two females, surrounded by several decommissioned Raptures, arguing with each other. A small skirmish site—its aftermath still fresh—sat in middle of the street. The smoking and sparking husks of Raptures keyed scattered around, some still twitching, their red cores extinguished. While standing among battle aftermath and alien wreckage, the two were engaged in heated argument.
One had long strawberry-blond hair and focused, red-brow eyes, with black tactical uniform with hints of red, while the other had short blond hair and hazel eyes, choosing more relaxed field robe, colored in grey with huge amounts of yellow.
So far so good. Nothing weird in this world full of female cyborgs soldiers and alien killer machines. Everything as dandy as it can be in this apocalyptic world.
Except, maybe of one glaring thing—their uniforms.
Even Marian's somewhat revealing, curve-hugging outfit now seemed modest by comparison.
Although the top was proper, the redhead's so-called skirt was practically nonexistent, little more than a strip of fabric attached to her waist that barely could qualifying as clothing. And blondie's outfit looked like casual, rebellious, tomboy-style ensemble—gray and yellow, loose in some places, tight in others, with a generous amount of cleavage on unapologetic display. Robe of hormonal rich daughter rather than anything that had any connection to military gear. Her outfit gave off the vibe of a rebellious, too-cool-to-care tomboy, which seems to be very much true.
It this really military? I mean… all three of them have high heels. High heels in battlefield. On gravel.
All three Nikkes he'd met so far wore high heels. Apparently, military footwear standards were dead and buried along with civilization, just like uniform standards.
Arata blinked once. Twice. Maybe thrice.
And yet Marian didn't so much as raise an eyebrow. So taking his cue from her, Arata did the only logical thing.
He simply accepted it as normal.
Since all of surrounding those two Raptures were dead, Marian quickly slowed down, Arata soon caught to her and followed the example. They came just in time to catch last few fragments of their argument.
"How long are we going to wait here?" tomboy asked with clear irritation.
"Until they come," answered redhead, matter of fact.
"We're sitting ducks out here!" the blonde complained.
"We'll wait until they come," the redhead repeated.
"Did you not see how hard they went down?! You saw that explosion!" the blonde shot back. "What are the odds of them coming out of that alive?"
"We haven't received any confirmation of death," the redhead answered.
"What, so we're waiting until we do?" the blonde demanded.
"This is the rendezvous point," the redhead repeated once again. "Leaving would throw a wrench into the works."
"This is absurd!"
"Everyone!" finally injected Marian, cutting through their argument.
The two snapped to alert. The blonde spun around, briefly raising her weapon before recognizing them.
"Ah! You scared me!" yelped the tomboy before relaxing again and lowering her grenade launcher.
"!!"
"I'm Marian," Marian continued. "The Commander is here with me."
"Are you serious? How did you survive that explosion? I get that you're Nikke," the tomboy added, eyeing Arata, "but isn't that one a human?!"
"Yes," Arata said plainly. "I'm a human."
"…Something's fishy about this," the tomboy muttered under her nose. "Are you really the Commander?"
"Yes," Arata answered, even though part of him still wasn't sure.
"Excuse me for a moment," injected the redhead. "Commander identification code, read."
A short, yet somehow long, silence passed.
"… The Squad 04-F Commander has changed," she announced at last.
"Rapi, we don't even know them!" the tomboy hissed. "How could you…"
"Now's not the time to argue!" the redhead—Rapi—cut her off. "There are Raptures right ahead of us."
"We'll… that much is true," the blonde admitted reluctantly, glancing toward the distant sound of mechanical movement.
"From now on, you're in command," Rapi said, addressing Arata. "As the former Commander is unable to issue orders at present, no formal procedures are necessary to transfer authority. The situation is urgent. I'll explain the details once the battle is over."
"Understood," Arata nodded.
Rapi turned to Marian "You said your name was Marian? What branch are you from?"
"I belong to Silver Gun," Maria answered. "I'm a Machine Gunner."
"… It checks out."
"… Very well then," resigned tomboy. "All right, Commander. What's the next move?"
"Awaiting your command," added Rapi.
"Destroy the Raptures," ordered Arata.
"Yes, Commander."
The tomboy cracked a grin, cocking her weapon."Let's get this party started!"
***
He wasn't entirely sure how they'd all survived.
The battle itself was a blur of gunfire and shouting. Rapi moved like a textbook illustration of good form—controlled bursts, perfectly timed reloads, minimal exposure. Anis was louder, looser, but devastating with her grenades. Marian slotted herself into their formation without missing a beat.
Arata did what he'd practiced with Marian. Watch the cores. Call priority targets. Order cover when too many charge-ups happened at once. Somehow, it all came together.
And now he stood in silence, heart still racing in his chest—not just from the fight itself, but also from the weight of new challenge.
It was the first time he commanded anyone other than Marian. And while he hadn't been really sure if he could actually pull this off, he'd decided that he will at least follow everything Marian had taught him during her impromptu lessons.
And somehow, they were still alive.
"Well, that was easy," tomboy remarked, her voice surprisingly light, almost cheerful.
"We're Rapi and Anis," Rapi added flatly, her tone neutral. "Thanks for the assistance."
"But why did you ask to take the Commander up to the surface all of a sudden? So…"
"I'm afraid so. Our former commander is dead," Anis said casually.
Arata already knew this, of course—Marian had told him earlier—but still, hearing this again, being said out loud so casually was… quite unnerving. It felt almost… dismissive, as if it was… normal.
"…" Marian seemed to share his sentiment. Her face was unreadable and stiff face said more that her usual caring attitude.
"He tried to shoot the Raptures with a human weapon, hurling obscenities at them all the while, adding 'Raptures, enemies of humanity!' and so on," Anis continued.
Arata blinked. Wait! What?! He did what??!
"He knew that those pea-shooters couldn't put a dent in a Rapture…"
"You two failed in your duties. You let him die." Marian said, her tone unexpectedly much colder than before.
"You're wrong!" Anis snapped back, her voice taking assertive tone. "We've always been willing to protect the Commander no matter what, even if that meant sacrificing ourselves! But just because we're willing put our lives on the line doesn't mean he'll always be safe…"
Marian seemed to silently, accept Anis's explanation—reluctantly.
"All right… I was just saying."
"Could you tell us your name?" Rapi interjected.
"Arata Kasuga."
"Anis," Rapi turned her attention to her friend.
"I'm going to do a little digging," Anis seemed to understand her friend. "Let me see…"
Anis took out her phone and began tapping rapidly on the screen, she pulled up Arata's profile picture with info.
"… Hmm?" She muttered, her eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion.
"What's wrong?" Rapi glanced over.
"This Commander is total rookie."
"… What?" Rapi's tone didn't change, but something in the air did.
"They just graduated from the military academy yesterday."
Everyone were at loss of words. The long, pregnant silence seemed to make even wind to be caught in collective disbelieve.
"Let's move to the commercial street." Rapi said finally "It's too dangerous here."
***
"Did you really just take up your post yesterday?" Rapi asked bluntly.
"Is something wrong?" replied Arata.
"How can complete amateur be sent to replace a Commander killed in the line of duty… What were they thinking?" Rapi muttered under her breath.
"… What?" injected Marian.
"… Nothing," Rapi straightened, catching herself. "Anyway, you're the Commander of this squad from here on out. If you don't have any objections, I'd like to go over our current course of action."
"No problem," Arata said.
"Okay, I'll brief you. 46 hours ago, we lost communication with a Nikke squad that was patrolling this area. They went completely dark, so we decided to send out a search party. During our search, an accident resulted in the death of our now-former Commander."
"The only problem is that the deceased Commander was the one who knew the coordinates to our destination," added Anis. "Commander you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"No, I don't," Arata said honestly.
"I figured as much," Anis sighed.
"I know the coordinates," Marian announced confidently.
"Yeah, I figured that too—huh?" Anis sighed again only to stare at Marian, caught off guard moment later.
"That information was input into my system when I was sent out on this operation," Marian explained. "I'll take the lead. Follow me."
"Oh… Okay."
"And you, are you called Rapi?" Marian turned toward to the redhead.
"… ?"
"You failed to protect your former Commander. Who are you to call someone else a novice? They're putting their lives on the line just like we are. If I ever hear you talk like that, it'll be the last time," her tone more sharper that anything Arata heard from Marian before.
"Whoa, let's settle down! No need to get all riled up." Anis said quickly, trying to defuse the tension.
"Fine, I misspoke. I'm sorry," Rapi said, slightly lowering her head.
"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to the Commander," Marian insisted.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm okay," said Arata.
He could not really blame those to for being skeptical—or even disappointed. Just few hours ago, he barely remembered his own name, not mentioning the supposed training he'd received. Everything he about combat right now, was thanks to Marian's impromptu guidance. Not that those two needed to know anything about that.
However his calm and simple response must have seemed strange, from Rapi and Anis's perspective at least.
"They didn't get themselves into a tizzy?" Anis muttered, bewildered. "Definitely not an ordinary Commander."
"Not an ordinary Commander"?What does she even mean? Arata ground inwardly. Why would I get myself into her "tizzy" anyway?
Arata had no idea whether that was supposed to be a compliment or insult. But as they followed Marian deeper into the ruined city, toward missing Nikkes and whatever had taken them, he decided it didn't really matter.
***
The group pressed forward, after Marian's lead. Even though they'd moved into a different part of the city, Arata could barely tell the difference. Everywhere he looked, it was the same—ruined streets in wreckage in shades of gray swallowed by green, silence stretching between them except for the crunch of boots and the occasional distant groan of shifting metal.
Now and then, lone Raptures appeared, but they were cut down before Arata even had the chance to issue an order. However, it would seemed that taking leading role of this group, must have taken a toll on Marian. Her movement started to get more and more sluggish. Each fight seemed to weigh on her more than the last.
"Are you okay? You don't look so good," Anis inquired, also seeing Marian's struggle.
"I don't know what it is," Marian admitted, her voice breathy. "But I feel a bit…"
"Let me do some maintenance," Rapi cut in bluntly, stopping in her tracks. She looked Marian over with a clinical gaze. "Take off your top."
"Wh-what? Right here?" Marian blurted caught off guard, her hands flying to her collar. She looked frantically between Rapi and Arata.
"Is there a problem?" Anis tilted her head, feigning ignorance.
"What I mean is… the Commander is right there…"
"You don't actually think the Commander sees you that way, do you?" Anis teased Marian with sarcastic smirk. "Relax. To them, we're just emotionless fighting machines. The last thing they're thinking of when they see us is sex, trust me." Anis turned her head towards Arata. "Isn't that right, Commander?"
Others think like that?
Arata decided silence was safer than either answer. Agreeing with Anis would made Marian more of object than person, while disagreeing would paint him as creep—and probably a very specific type of creep.
"Well well, so you DO see us that way! Interesting!" The deadpan judgment in her voice was as dry as the dust under their boots.
"I'm fine" insisted Marian. "It's probably just a small malfunction due to these new surroundings."
"Take it off," requested Rapi, with more authoritative tone.
Putting aside their uniforms—and the fact we are in the middle of a war zone—is stripping in public next to me, really not considered a big deal?
"Don't make such a fuss, will you?" Anis complained, with deadpan exasperation.
"I said I'm okay!" pushed Marian.
"In the event of a malfunction, it is required that we conduct the necessary repairs. This isn't an option," demanded sharply Rapi, her tone not accepting refusal.
"… I see," Marian relented.
"Good. All right, Commander. Please turn the other way," instructed Anis.
Arata complied without comment. He turned his eye toward closest wall and waited. Behind him came the faint sound of buttons being undone, each sound sharp in the otherwise still air.
Click… click… click.
Great. Now I'm hyper-aware of it. Just… focus on something else. Debris. Sky. Ruins. Anything that isn't Marian and her killer-body undressing five meters away, just behind my back.
I'm only a little curious… just a little. Just a tiny bit.
Then came a series of sharper, more mechanical sounds—plates sliding, the faint hum of internal components adjusting—reminding him that, underneath the flawless surface, Marian was something far more complicated than she looked. All of those girls were.
"Everything seems okay."
"I told you," Marian muttered, complaining.
"Let's keep going." Rapi announced.
"Hey, I saw that!" Anis suddenly shouted.
"Eek!!" shrieked Marian as she froze in embarrassment.
Arata flinched, instinctively stiffening.
I promise! I didn't peek! I didn't even get the chance to!
"Just kidding," Anis added smirking, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
"…" Marian was red-faced, clutching her submachine gun a little too tightly as she glared at Anis. It was a look of pure betrayal mixed with accusation and embarrassment—not that Anis seemed to care in the slightest.
****
"… Do you… copy?" A voice cracked over Arata's ear, faint and distorted through the static.
"… ?" Rapi's head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing as she caught the signal
"Ark Control to surface. Do you copy? Rapi, Anis?" The voice—calm but edged with urgency feminine voice—broke through more clearly this time.
"Communication…" Rapi muttered, adjusting her comm earpiece. Then, louder: "This is Rapi. Shifty, do you copy?" Her voice leveled and professional.
"About time we got through!" The voice's— Shifty's — response came with an audible sigh of relief.
Arata instinctively touched his ear. Only now did he notice the tiny comm device nestled there — paired with a small lens and a flickering holo-screen. When had it been put on him?
A tiny projection appeared right before his eyes: the upper body of a girl with sky-blue hair tied neatly under a headset, her crisp operator's uniform spotless against the ruined backdrop. Her big eyes sparkled with energy as she adjusted her mic with practiced ease, her cheerfulness almost out of place on a battlefield.
So this is Shifty…
Arata thought, blinking in surprise. It was strange seeing someone so vivid, so lively, appear as a ghostly hologram while the world around him lay in ruins. The contrast between her bright, almost playful design and their grim reality only made her presence feel more surreal.
"What's the situation on your end?" Shifty asked.
"The new Commander has arrived. The operational coordinates have been confirmed and we're proceeding as planned." Rapi reported without hesitation.
"Excellent. We had quite the scare back there when we lost contact with the transport ship."
"You took the transport ship straight into the middle of an enemy camp? What were you thinking?" Anis snapped, her tone sharp enough to cut through the comm's distortion and give Shifty a piece of her mind.
"What?" Shifty's confusion was genuine, tinged with disbelief.
"It's completely obliterated. With friends like you, who needs enemies?" Anis growled, crossing her arms and glaring at nothing in particular.
"… Raptures in that area have no anti-air weapons." Shifty countered, the certainty in her voice betraying her confusion at Anis's accusation.
"… What?" Anis blinked, the fire in her tone faltering just a little.
"Shifty, can you send me the data for transport ships black box?" Rapi cut in before the argument could escalate.
"Sure, once I'm done analyzing it. It won't take long."
"Okay, thanks."
"Just a sec." Shifty murmured, distracted as she shifted through her systems. "Well then…"
"Hello, there! I'm Shifty, an operator from Ark Intelligence Department." Her next words carried the tone of someone starting fresh. "I will be assisting you throughout the operation from her on out. Nice to be working with you."
"…Me too." Arata said after a pause, his voice quiet but steady. He still wasn't sure what to make of this operator, but her presence felt oddly reasuring.
"Yep!" Shifty chirped, her tone unnaturally cheerful given the battlefield around them.
****
"High class energy detected ahead," Shifty's voice cut sharply through the comm. The usual lightness in her tone was gone, replaced with crisp, professional urgency. "Most likely Lord class."
Arata felt his stomach knot. He didn't know the classification system well yet, but wasn't Lord class the second strongest class abound raptures?
"What? What's something that big doing here?" Anis snapped, her weapon swinging instinctively toward the horizon. Her voice wavered between disbelief and irritation.
"I suggest we retreat." Rapi said, calm but firm, her eyes scanning the ruins with a soldier's practiced caution.
Marian shifted uneasily, her voice tight. "What about the missing Nikkes?"
"We leave them behind," Anis replied flatly.
Marian's lips parted as though to argue, but no words came out. Only heavy silence.
"Only 0.2% of Nikkes who go missing are ever recovered," Anis continued, her tone sharp enough to draw blood. "You, of all people, should know these search parties are just for show."
"Well I can't pretend like they don't exist either!" Marian shot back, her eyes flashing with uncharacteristic fire.
Arata's hand tightened. "Is a Lord that dangerous?"
"Yes." Shifty answered immediately, her tone clinical. "They are the ones who lead high-level Raptures. Their combat capabilities are unparalleled."
Her words were followed by a momentary silence, only broken by the wind howling faintly through broken buildings. Then Shifty's voice came again, brisk and calculating: "Judging from the simulation, our chances of success are high, but there's a high probability of us sustaining heavy losses…"
The channel went silent for moment before she added, "And a 24.35% probability of total annihilation."
24.35% probability of total annihilation?! And only 0.2% rescue success?! Are we really that much screwed?
The words hit like a blow. Anis cursed under her breath.
Marian looked at Arata, her expression tense, as if bracing for an answer she didn't want to hear. "Commander, should we pull out?"
Arata swallowed hard, remembering Marian's earlier plea, the missing squad, the weight of command he barely understood. He knew the risks. He knew he got amnesia in worst possible moment. But he also knew turning back would mean leaving someone to die. And it somehow did not sit with him right.
I knew the risk from the beginning and still went anyway. And besides… turning back could be just as dangerous as pressing on. I might as well keep pushing it a little while longer.
"… I don't want to give up on the search."
"Then please give the order," Rapi said without hesitation, her voice as steady as steel. "That's all we need. We follow the Commander's orders no matter what."
Arata straightened himself. "Continue the operation."
"Yes, Commander." Rapi's affirmation was calm, resolute.
"… Commander, do you realize that this could be a suicide mission, right?" Anis' voice cut in, her sarcasm dulled by genuine concern.
"So long as our brains remain intact, we Nikkes are no worse off," she continued. "It's a different story when it comes to humans. You're fine with that?"
"I'm okay." Arata said firmly, though his chest tightened at the truth of her words. The "fine" wouldn't be quite the word for that
Anis studied him for a beat, then gave a curt nod. "… Okay, understood."
Marian stepped closer, her body language softening, protective. She glanced at him with quiet determination. "Commander, please walk behind me. I'll protect you."
Her voice carried no doubt, no hesitation. Just a promise.
****
****
The battlefield was quiet again, save for the hiss of cooling metal and the faint crackle of flames from shattered debris. The hulking corpse of the Lord-class lay motionless, smoke curling upward into the fractured sky.
"Battle over," Shifty's voice came through, calm but edged with relief. "Damage report?"
"Minimal damage. Sufficient ammo remaining," Rapi reported, lowering her weapon with smooth precision. Her expression hadn't changed; her tone was as controlled as ever.
"Same here," Anis chimed in.
Marian, however, raised a hand to her shoulder. "Some damage to the left clavicle. Heavy damage to the lower right projector." She touched her face lightly, her fingers brushing a faint burn. "Abrasion to the left eye caused by a stray bullet, no irregularities in identifying targets." Her tone never wavered, as if reciting a checklist. "Overall damage rate is 17.05%. Still combat-capable."
It is the first time I noticed this much machine parts beneath her skin.
"Very well." Shifty relied.
"Are you sure that's no too high?" Anis asked as she eyed Marian. She didn't sound very convinced.
"It doesn't matter," Marian said, her voice firm, her gaze focused on the street ahead. "We're almost there. Let's pick up the pace."
Anis might have some right. Marian does look to rough to continue like that.
Before she could move on, Arata stepped forward. Without thinking, he knelt and pulled a roll of bandages from his pack. The sharp smell of burnt circuitry still clung to Marian's armor, and the sight of the scorch marks made his chest tighten. Carefully, he began wrapping a strip around her damaged face.
"Commander…"
"Hahahaha," Anis let out an amused laugh, crossing her arms. "Commander, what on earth are you doing? That kind of thing is useless to a Nikke."
"No," Marian said quickly. " it works."
"Ee…?" Anis
Marian's lips curved into a faint smile "It feels like I'm being healed… from the inside."
Anis blinked. She glanced at Rapi, who returned the confused gaze. Both of them stood silently, their faces unreadable but her eyes fixed on Marian and Arata.
Rapi's gaze shifted to the Commander, then back to Marian, but she said nothing, her silence speaking volumes.
"Commander," Marian said again, her voice almost shy now "I could use another bandage here as well."
Now I am getting embarrassed. I knew it wasn't truly functional—Anis had been right—but refusing her now would feel cruel. but Am I really some kind of freak?
To make sure not to embarrass Marian's defence, Arata decided to put just one more bandage. If he refused now, Marian would probably scold him again.
"Thank you. The pain is gone already."
****
The group came to a halt at the edge of a wide, cracked expanse. Once a plaza or park, it was now a graveyard of asphalt and weeds, fractured earth split by creeping roots. Broken skyscrapers loomed at the perimeter, their glassless windows staring down like hollow sockets. The wind swept through, carrying only dust and the faint whistle of air through twisted beams.
"We're here." Marian announced, her voice steady—but distant. Her gaze fixed on a point only she could see.
Anis squinted across the barren field, rifle half-raised. "No sight of any vanguard."
"They're here," Marian repeated firmly.
Anis snorted. "What? There's nothing here."
"Let's look around." Without waiting for agreement, Marian strode forward into the clearing. Her boots crunched against gravel, her movements too precise, almost mechanical.
"Hmm? What is she doing?" Anis frowned.
Arata's chest tightened as he watched her retreating figure. Something about her felt wrong.
Marian? Are you alright?
"…Rapi," Shifty's voice crackled over the comms, sharper than usual. Her holographic form flickered into Arata's comm view, sky-blue eyes darting over her console. "I've finished analyzing the black box from the transport ship. I'm sending you the report."
"Roger…" Rapi's red-brown eyes glowed faintly as the data streamed into her system. She went still, face hardening and flashing with with steel like intensity. Then, with a smooth motion, she raised her rifle and aimed it squarely at Marian's back.
"Marian, stop right there!" Rapi ordered coldly.
"Yes?"
"You shot down the transport ship?" Rapi accused, her weapon steady.
"… What?" Anis blurted.
Wait!! What?! From where THAT came from?
Marian turned slowly, her face unreadable. "No."
"There were two explosions inside the ship," Rapi pressed, voice like steel. "They were caused by the explosives for this operation, which would never go off without an external detonation signal. That detonation signal originated… from you, Marian."
"No."
"What are you trying to achieve?" Rapi demanded.
Marian's lips parted as if to answer—but instead she whispered, "We're here."
Rapi's jaw tightened. "Answer, or else I'll execute you here and now."
Marian's voice warped, rising, hollow and mechanical. "We're here."
And again. "We're here."
"We're here." Her eyes flickered red as her words glitched into a broken chant: "Over here. Over here. Over here. Over here. Over here."
"!!" Shifty gasped. "She's been corrupted! When did this happen?"
"Tsk. Just my luck," Rapi hissed, adjusting her aim.
"What happened?!" Arata demanded, panic flooding his voice.
"Her central nerve's been hijacked by the Raptures!" Shifty explained, her usual composure cracking.
Marian's head jerked at a crooked angle, red light burning in her eyes. "Over… heeerrreee…"
"She's sending out a distress signal! Stop her!"
"I've got her in my sights!" Rapi cut in sharply. "Please give the order!"
Before Arata could respond, the ground shuddered. A shockwave rippled across the field, rattling the ruins. Dust cascaded down shattered walls.
"I'm detecting a high class energy in front of you!" Shifty cried. Her voice hitched. "Those vibrations… They're… A Black Smith!"
"Over… heeerrreee…"
Arata's mouth went dry. "What is that thing…?"
"Codename Black Smith," Shifty said grimly. "A Tyrant model Rapture. It captures Nikkes and repurposes them into Rapture parts."
"Over… heee…" Marian's chant broke off with a scream as a mass of tentacles, reaching out of nowhere, lashed out. They coiled around her, dragging her off her feet. With horrifying force, she was yanked into one of the buildings.
Marian!!
"It absorbed her into its body!" Anis shouted, horror in her voice.
Rapi's gaze hardened."I'm willing to bet the same thing happened to those missing vanguard troops." She turned to Arata, determination blazing. "We may be able to save them. Even Marian."
"Rapi! What are you talking about?" Anis snapped.
"After the Black Smith captures Nikkes, it keeps them for a while before doing anything," Rapi explained. "Judging by when they disappeared, there may still be some time left. What do you want us to do?" Rapi directed the last sentence to Arata.
SAVE HER, of course!!
"Do you have to ask? Let's just get out of here!" Anis cried out to both Rapi and Arata.
"Your orders, please." Rapi didn't flinch. Her eyes stayed on Arata.
The weight of both Nikkes gaze bore down on him, but Arata could not really care less about it. His answer was firm. "We have to save Marian."
"Roger," Rapi nodded without hesitation.
"Are you out of your mind? We're gonna die." Anis screamed.
"Anis." Rapi's voice cut through her panic, calm but resolute. "The least can do is try. For them."
"…Have you found it?" Anis asked quietly after some moment.
"I don't know yet," Rapi admitted.
"Okay, let's give it a shot then." Anis cursed softly.
Rapi turned her gaze towards the place where Marian vanished. "Shifty, please assist."
"Oh… okay." Shifty replied, taken aback for a second. "Well, first off, the simulation results are…"
"We don't need to hear it!!" Arata cut in sharply.
"Understood!" Shifty blinked, then straightened. Her voice steadied with resolve. "Engaging Tyrant Model 003: Black Smith now. Encounter!"
****
The Black Smith lay where it had fallen—a collapsed mass of armor and hydraulics, its once-thundering frame reduced to a ruin that steamed faintly in the cold air. As it hit, a gust of wind washed over the battlefield, carrying the sharp, gritty scent of ash, ozone, dust, and burned metal, and for a moment everything seemed to pause around the impact.
Shattered armor plates and splintered weapons littered the ground, half-buried in rubble, and the air stank of ozone, burnt oil, and scorched steel. Ahead, the smoking corpse of the Black Smith Tyrant sprawled like some monstrous dead crab, half-sunk into broken concrete—twisted, ruptured, and still twitching here and there with leftover currents that sparked and died beneath its plating. Broken tentacles lay strewn across the battlefield, their metal flesh curled and warped, still radiating heat.
The smoking corpse of the Black Smith Tyrant sprawled ahead like some monstrous dead crab, its twisted frame still twitching here and there with leftover currents, half-sunk into the rubble. Broken tentacles lay strewn across the ground, their metal flesh curled and warped, still radiating heat. The Tyrant's carcass continued to smolder even as the last echoes of gunfire finally died.
In his peripheral vision, Shifty's hologram flickered back into view. Even her usually bright face looked a little stunned. Then her voice arrived in his ear with familiar crispness—cheerful, distant, and almost offensively clean compared to the ruin around them.
"Considering there was only a 12.4% of success, I'd say that was a job well done!" Shifty's voice crackled through the everyone's comms, her tone more relieved than she'd ever admit. Way too bright, and almost offensively clean compared to the ruined battlefield around them.
Arata didn't answer. His throat felt too tight to manage words.
Rapi stepped away without waiting, rifle low but ready, her red eyes sweeping the wreckage with that measured precision she seemed to have been built for. "I'll check the survivors."
She moved through the debris field like a metronome—efficient, controlled, not a single wasted motion. She was already walking, eyes sweeping the wreckage for any sign of movement, boots splashing through shallow puddles of coolant and blood—if that thick, dark liquid leaking from the metal heaps could still be called that.
Arata watched her step over a severed cable thick as a wrist, past a half-buried limb that wasn't a limb anymore—just plating and torn synthetic muscle, dragged out and discarded by scavenging Raptures. Around her lay crushed Rapture parts and the scattered remains of… other things. Her expression never changed as she threaded through it all, precise as a machine, calm as if the battlefield were just another corridor she'd already mapped.
Nikkes.
Anis lingered close, shoulders tense, trying to mask the way her gaze kept snapping back toward the remains of the vanguard. Their team. The ones who had gone in ahead of them. The ones who had… bought them time.
Rapi crouched beside a pile of splintered chassis components, fingers brushing across torn connectors as if checking a pulse could still mean anything.
"… No survivors from the vanguard," she reported at last. Her voice didn't change. "All the parts have been ransacked."
Something inside Arata tightened anyway, like his body hadn't gotten the memo that grief was a luxury you could postpone until you were back behind the Ark's walls.
Anis asked meekly without her usual tomboyish tone—because some part of her still hoped to be wrong: "What about Marian?"
"Still… alive."
The words hit harder than they should have. Alive was supposed to be a relief. Here, on the surface, it was often just a different kind of sentence.
They found her where the Black Smith's shadow fell across broken roadway.
Marian lay crumpled on the shattered remains of the Black Smith's core chamber, her body twisted at an angle that made the loss obvious even before Arata's mind could process it: one arm missing at the shoulder, the other wrenched beneath her torso; one leg torn away at the joint, the remaining one bent wrong. The severed limb lay a short distance from her like a discarded mannequin part.
Her uniform was shredded and blackened, clinging in tatters to a frame that showed through in places—more exposed metal, cables, and torn synthetic muscle. And her skin—synthetic though it was—had the pallor of something pushed far past its design limits.
And her right eye—
Once a vivid, clear blue—glowed like a sick red dot in shadow, faint but undeniable, as if something behind it was awake and listening.
"Over… here," Marian whispered.
It wasn't a plea, not really. More like a looped transmission, a beacon repeating its coordinates.
"Here…" she murmured again, like a broken record.
Anis froze, all her bravado snapping into brittle edges. "This is bad. Her brain has already been corrupted."
Arata's hands clenched before he realized it. He stared at Marian's face, trying to find her in it—trying to match the wreck in front of him to the voice that had spoken to him earlier, to the small moment of gratitude for a simple bandage, to the earnestness that had felt…normal. Idiotic. Dummy. Even somehow happy.
Shifty's hologram hovered a little lower, as if the weight of her next words forced her down.
"We all know the rules," she said. "Any Nikke that has sustained brain damage is to be disposed of."
A pause, almost polite. Then the words that landed like a stamp on a death certificate.
W-what? What did she say?
"According to the law, the execution…" Shifty continued, tone turning formal—too formal, like reading from a file "Must be carried out by the Commander."
By… the Commander…?
The words hung in the air.
Arata felt the world narrow to a tunnel. In it: Marian's red eye. Rapi's steady posture. Anis's thinly veiled panic. The burned carcass of the Black Smith behind them, like an altar to the cost of survival.
Rapi approached Arata without looking at him at first. She stepped close, held something out and pressed it into his palm.
The metal was cold. He hadn't realized how hot everything else had become until that chill seeped into his palm.
A pistol.
Why am I holding it?
It looked wrong in his hand—not because he couldn't hold it, but because it belonged to a different kind of violence. Not battlefield fire. Not suppressing cover fire. Not any of the clean, mission-oriented killing that could be rationalized as necessary.
"This pistol is for when we must self-terminate," Rapi said evenly. "Humans can use them as well."
Arata stared at it like it was starring back at him.
They want me to…?
"Just…" Rapi hesitated for the first time since he'd met her, then forced the words out. "Get in close."
Arata's arms felt sluggish. His thoughts dragged, catching on memories that arrived uninvited. Marian smiling at him in this ruined world. Her teachings. Her embarrassments when he called her "sexy secretary". Or when Rapi bored to strip herself.
And now… I just have to get close.. to… terminate her?
As if this were a matter of aim. Of technique. Of efficiency.
Anis's voice came out quick, offering a lifeline she didn't want. "Perhaps I should do it."
Rapi didn't even glance at her. "No… We Nikkes cannot execute our own kind."
Restrictions. Safeties. Chains dressed up as ethics. The Ark kept its Nikkes from turning on each other, even when turning on each other was mercy.
Arata gripped the gun. It was cold and impossibly heavy. He stepped toward Marian. The dust swirled around them, catching the light. Marian looked up at him, the red light in her eye pulsing.
Rapi's eyes returned to the Commander. "No time to hesitate, Commander. If we don't get this done, she will probably become an Irregular soon."
An Irregular. Not Marian. Not a person. But… something else…
He gritted his teeth, aiming down the sights. The metal barrel aligned with the girl's forehead.
Marian didn't flinch. The red glow in her eye seemed to dim for a second, the corruption receding just enough for the person beneath to surface. She looked at the gun, then at his hand, and finally, into his eyes. A soft, sad smile touched her bloodied lips.
No. I can't do this.
He started to lower his gun.
"Commander!"
Marian's red eye flickered.
"Over… here. Commander." she whispered again.
A hand moved.
Slowly, as if the body were remembering a command it no longer understood.
Marian's remaining hand rose and reached, not for him, not to claw or strike, but for the pistol itself.
Her fingers closed around the barrel with a strange gentleness.
Arata stiffened, instinct shouting at him to pull back, to get out of reach. But Marian didn't yank, didn't fight. She simply guided.
She drew the muzzle closer to her head.
The motion was steady in a way Arata's hadn't been.
Rapi's eyes widened, the first real crack in her composure. Anis made a sound—half protest, half disbelief.
Marian's voice, broken and thin, shaped itself around something that sounded like recognition.
"Comman… der."
The word wasn't the looping beacon this time. It was for him.
Her red eye burned, but her face—what was left of her expression—softened, as if some last fragment of Marian was surfacing through the corruption like a hand through dark water.
She tugged the barrel until it was point-blank.
Then she leaned closer, close enough that the Commander could see the faint scarring where he'd wrapped her head earlier. The bandage he'd given her. The tiny act of care that felt absurd now, and yet—
Marian's fingers slid, not to seize control, but to steady his shaking hands along with the gun.
"Thank you…" she breathed, each word a struggle, "…for your… bandage."
Her eyes drifted shut.
A pale finger—hers—slipped into the trigger guard.
Arata's body locked. Everything inside him screamed. But nothing moved fast enough to change what was happening.
For a heartbeat, the world held still.
Then Marian pulled the trigger.
Shoot.
The sound was small compared to the Black Smith's death. A sharp crack swallowed by ruined streets and distant wind. Arata flinched, the pistol jumping once in his hands, the recoil running up his arms like an electric shock.
Marian's hand went slack.
Her head sagged.
The red glow in her right eye flickered… and went out.
Silence poured back into the space like water.
Arata didn't realize he'd dropped to his knees until grit pressed into them. The pistol hung useless in his grip. His other hand moved on instinct, reaching toward Marian's head as if he could still protect her from something—anything—by covering the wound, by bandaging, by fixing.
He tore open his kit with shaking fingers and wrapped the cloth around her head anyway, hands moving too fast, too desperate, trying to undo what had already happened.
Rapi stood over them like a statue, then forced herself to speak. "No signs of life."
The Comms crackled. Shifty's voice had lost its brightness entirely.
"Official confirmation of death."
Her words were meant to be final. Procedure. Closure.
They landed like a door locking.
"Our investigation mission is complete," Shifty continued, the operator voice returning, thinner now. "Head back to the Ark."
Ark. the base of Humanity
Anis turned away first, shoulders shaking once as if she were swallowing something sour. "Damn it."
Rapi waited a beat longer—long enough to ensure Arata could stand, long enough to offer him the dignity of not being dragged away.
Then she turned too.
They left Marian where she lay, beside the wrecked Black Smith, in the shadow of a victory that didn't feel like one.
No burial. No marker. Just ruined ground and the cold indifference of the surface.
As they walked, Arata looked back once.
Only once.
Marian was already becoming part of the battlefield—another fallen shape among broken metal, another cost paid in silence.
And somewhere deep beneath the Ark's laws and the mission reports and the clean comms voices, a new understanding settled into him like ash:
This was what this world is.
Corruption
A dreadful thing that can grow in any of us, regardless of our wishes.