Interlude: Snow White.
A white figure was running through the desolate city, heading toward the source of ongoing gunshots and explosions. The figure moved at a speed that was simply inhuman, despite appearing like a human draped in a white poncho and carrying equipment shaped like industrial boxes on her back. They all probably weighed about fifteen tons, but she bore them as effortlessly as a human might have to an empty backpack.
Secured to her right is a specialized ammunition printer, shaped like a giant revolver. It is made of cannibalized and modified rapture parts and what was once her third weapon. It produced ammunition for her guns, Seven Dwarves I (high-powered anti-ship sniper rifle) and Seven Dwarves II (customized assault rifle). She wielded the latter like a grim reaper would, mowing down Raptures that dared to obstruct her path with each pull of a trigger. Ideally, she would scavenge them for parts for future uses. However, the loud noise of battle reminded her that she couldn't waste time.
She is Snow White, a Pilgrim's Nikke, wandering the surface to fulfill her self-given mission. That mission is why she is chasing a talkative Tyrant-class Rapture all the way to this abandoned city.
For days, she had tracked its elusive movements, only to lose its trail amid the endless wasteland that is the surface. Thankfully, a lucky break has pointed her in the right direction. She paused on top of a sturdy highway, overlooking the battle unfolding before her yellowish-golden eyes.
Chatterbox, the humanoid tyrant, is locked in a battle against two Nikkes led by a human commander, most likely a squad from the Ark.
It was rare for her to cross paths with a squad on the surface, mostly because she only approached them to lend a hand, getting them out of a tough spot. Typically, a commander rarely appears on the battlefield and only gives orders from the rear, hiding behind a solid cover. After all, they are still human. However, what she witnessed throws that common sense out of the window.
With a body repaired almost as quickly as it was damaged, Chatterbox struggled to land a decisive blow on the definitely male commander. He moved like a river, flowing effortlessly past each blow. He returns the favor by slashing it with the saber on his hand like a waterfall. His saber cut through its lower arm with a loud metallic clang, cutting it off.
"This is the end, Chatterbox!" The commander shouted as he raised his saber, preparing to attack it again.
"How about no, human? Did you think I was out of options?"Chatterbox derided as it countered with several energy missiles straight to his gut, pushing him back from itself and sending him flying to a wall.
Instead of being stunned by getting an unwelcome flight experience, he calmly shouts, "COUNTERS, NOW!", before crashing through the wall.
Following their commands, the two other Nikkes begin showering Chatterbox with explosives, causing untold damage to the cursed creature. However, Snow White focuses more on the cracked wall where he landed. She saw the commander drag himself out of the rubble. He then returned to the battle without much fanfare, as if nothing but his uniform got damaged.
The strength and durability he displayed threw Snow White off the loop. She is sure that the force he exerted is comparable to the force a Nikke could bring, while he survived what would have damaged mass-produced Nikkes. She rubs her eyes, trying to see if the commander is a Nikke with a unique body type. Or maybe a normal Nikke fitted in an unfamiliar body for some reason.
After observing his muscle movement like a hawk, she doesn't think it was either of those options. He seems too comfortable in that for it to be a decoy body. Add to what she knows of Nikke's artificial muscle, his is too uncoordinated to be synthetic. This means that he is somehow as strong as a Nikke while still being human.
Snow White shakes her head. 'Now is not the time to be distracted. Remember your mission.' She thought.
The special weapon set she named 'Seven Dwarves: V and VI' dropped to the floor with heavy thuds. She starts propping them up and activating their programming, making sure to set them at the lowest rate of fire. With that done, she stored the second dwarves to her sides. After casually preparing the first dwarves, she loads a special rod-like ammunition into it.
The instrument of death flared to life, projecting hologram panels filled with data to aid her in delivering a lethal blow.
The cacophony of battle raged before her, but Snow White took a deep breath, focusing on the steady rhythm of her own artificial heartbeat. She stared at Chatterbox's chest with bloodlust in her eyes. Her mind calculated the trajectories needed according to the data. At the same time, her hands gently guided the weapon to where it should be aimed. With an ironclad determination, she ensured her gun didn't budge, even when the wind blew in her direction. She holds the trigger down, charging her attack with electricity as she lies down, waiting for the perfect opportunity to call her shot.
Meanwhile, the battle between Chatterbox and the Ark's squad seems to be heating up. The commander danced between Chatterbox and his team's coordinated attacks wildly, as if guided by an invisible conductor. His saber parried all attacks made by Chatterbox's bladed whip tail. At the same time, his squad's grenade volleys landed only on its body, triggering an explosive reaction.
The compounded explosion pushes Chatterbox several meters away, forcing it to retreat. At the same time, the commander took that as a chance to take a breather while kneeling, as sweat drenched his uniform terribly. It was as if his clothes had been washed without getting dried.
She noted his highly active metabolism with mild interest. She is sure that humans aren't supposed to sweat that much.
With a tightened grip on her railgun sniper, Snow White gladly took this chance. She releases the trigger, causing a thunderous crack to echo through the battlefield as Seven Dwarves: I fired its payload. The projectile broke through the sound barrier with ease, comparable to the speed of the common naval railgun back during the Rapture War.
At the last second, just before the projectile could hit Chatterbox right on the center of its chest, Chatterbox leaned away from it. This causes the projectile to only hit its right chest and obliterate everything on its right side, including its upper right arm and shoulder. Sadly, this doesn't cripple Chatterbox as much as she had hoped. The black substance already started working to replace body parts that had been lost.
Grimacing at the thought of failing her mission because of the failed shot, Snow White secured her first dwarves back to her side and took out the second dwarves. She pushed her disappointment away and started shooting Chatterbox's legs to limit their mobility. This time, her fifth and sixth dwarves followed suit, raining a barrage of bullets (in a budget) and missiles (she did not have many left.) upon the rapture.
She only hopes that this time, she can have answers to her questions.
Sam's POV.
My body screamed at me to stop, every fiber burning with exhaustion. My magic reserves were almost completely drained, leaving me almost as empty as the Outpost hot water reserve after Anis was done showering. I had pushed my body far beyond its limits using [Technomancy, running it in overdrive for longer than the spell was meant for. It works just fine with short bursts of power, but maintaining that intensity for this long? It felt like sprinting at full speed for an hour, with all exhaustion condensed into just fifteen minutes. My legs felt like lead weights, and the only reason I could even kneel was thanks to my god-slayer healing factor.
That is why the sudden interruption to our fight is very welcome. Whoever it was must have been friendly to us, considering I did not get caught in their attack.
Through the haze of fatigue, I watched Chatterbox's grotesque form stumble with satisfaction. Its right arm was gone again, black ichor spilling sluggishly from the wound in its chest. The flow was much slower now, which could mean its repair mechanisms were declining. It didn't help that the relentless rain of bullets and missiles was shredding its legs, further straining the mysterious substance desperately trying to patch it all together.
"Argh… I recognize this attack!"Chatterbox screeched, its voice grating against my ears. It twisted toward the source of the barrage, its disfigured form shaking with rage. "Damn you, Pilgrims! You mendling obsolete relics!"
The black fluid rerouted to its mangled legs, and with a guttural growl, it whispered loudly to itself,"The repair function can't keep up. I must retreat."
With barely functional legs, it repositions itself, shifting its weight to them. I watch it preparing to flee with red in my eyes. I stand shakily, but ready to take any action to hinder it.
A red and black blur suddenly crashed on Chatterbox like an angry meteor.
"You are not going anywhere!" Rapi, whose clothing now sports several tears and burn marks, landed on Chatterbox's back like a superhero doing a trademarked kick. Her burning crimson hair waved freely behind her, creating a gorgeous image I saved in my mind. The sheer momentum of her attack sent the Tyrant sprawling face-first into the ground. It certainly helped that whoever assisted us did numbers on its legs, disturbing its balance.
The wounds on Chatterbox's body stopped healing, as the black ichor stopped gushing out of it. If it had any of it left, it would be coughed out of its mouth in protests.
"Gargh… This feeling… A fairytale model…"Chatterbox groaned, its voice growing weaker."The Red Riding Hood… I must inform her of this…"
"Whoever you are, step down!" An unfamiliar feminine voice shouted from behind me. "I need to have a word with that creature!" It added sharply.
Turning back, I see a female figure carrying several boxes run towards Chatterbox in a hurry. Her beautiful face marks her as a Nikke, with glowing yellowish-golden eyes and a silver attachment on her head that reminds me of a snorkel. She wears a rugged white poncho with metallic shoulder pads. I can see two dog tags tied on the belt of her shoulder pads. The notable thing, aside from how armed she is (like a walking armory, that is the impression I get when I look at her), is how obviously mechanical her right arm is. Thankfully, she is wearing something sensible like metallic flat boots instead of high heels.
Before I could process her presence fully, Anis stepped out from the cover, her headgear resting under her arm. "And who are you supposed to be?" she questioned curiously. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Neon crouched beside Yuni, carefully tending to Mihara's body alongside her.
The white-haired Nikke gritted her teeth, clearly annoyed by the delay. After a tense moment, she exhaled deeply, forcing herself to calm down. "I am a Pilgrim," she said. "I've been hunting this Tyrant for several weeks now. So, will you let me pass, or are we going to have a problem?"
For a moment, none of us moved. I don't know what a Pilgrim is, but judging by Anis's widening eyes, they must be some kind of big deal.
I cast recording on my eyes with [Technomancy, pouring out what little mana manages to refill my reserve. She must be an important figure, so having a recording of her is beneficial.
Forcing my legs to stop shaking, I addressed her, "Hello, a Pilgrim." I began with a carefree tone as if we had met in an HQ lobby instead of a battlefield. "May I know what you intend to do to Chatterbox after you have had your chat with it?" I asked.
"Killing it, of course." She stated obviously as if saying Raptures die when they are killed.
I slip into [Strategy Trance] without prompting. Remembering my purpose of getting to the surface this time, I clearly can't let that happen. Capturing Chatterbox is a must if I want to keep that deal with Syuen, even if killing it is an easier course of action.
I know it sounds stupid to risk your life and people relying on you to save a stranger, but I can't stay idle knowing what fate awaits her if Syuen leaves unsatisfied with my part of the deal.
…Actually, now that I carefully think about it, can't I just capture another Tyrant-Class or two to fulfill my part? It should be easier than facing Chatterbox at least. Then there's also the fact that Chatterbox is that much outlier compared to other Tyrants I know of, so I could argue that it is simply impossible for us to capture it. Thankfully, I still have the recording of its speech and capabilities, so I could use them as more leverage against Syuen.
Then, should I let her kill Chatterbox?
Think about it. I could just tell Syuen that a third party had killed it during our battle. Then I should convince her that since it had been killed, getting intact parts should be the second best option.
After carefully considering it and knowing Chatterbox is aware I can fight it on somewhat even terms (which would definitely be tattled to the Missilis by it to spite me), the answer is a definitive yes.
As I step out of the trance, the Pilgrim raises an eyebrow at me. Not intending to stop her, I give her a nod as if letting her do as she pleases, which she returns with a shrug. She then continues to approach Chatterbox. Forcing my muscles to move, I follow after her. After all, I still need to make proof that Chatterbox was killed by a third party.
During our walk to Chatterbox, I started examining the three newest perks I received during my fight. They are [I Know What We're Going To Do Today]—or just [To Do Today, because there's no way I'm saying that whole thing every time—[Researcher, and [Seed of the Singularity].
[To Do Today] is ridiculous… in the best possible way. Basically, it's a time-crunching powerhouse of a perk. The problem is that I have to sing to activate it, with the duration increased by how much time I cut off. It would be embarrassing if it did not come with a list of more than a hundred songs as an example and a hint of talent to express whatever I feel by singing it out. That talent would be enough to make me a decent composer, but it did not come with a talent for singing.
If I work alone, this perk can shorten the time needed to make something that is worth weeks of effort into just a few hours. However, if I had a small group of people, with a minimum of 4 people, years' worth of work could be done in just a single afternoon. With this perk, some proper heavy equipment, and several competent workers, I can rebuild the Outpost from the ground up into something that even rivals the Ark itself!
Granted, the amount of materials needed to do so would basically bankrupt me hundreds of times over. Resources don't just appear out of thin air after all. But with the knowledge of automation from [Satisfactorio Crafting, [Alchemy] and [Science] general knowledge bases, [World's Maker] ability to either bless or curse the manufacturing line as needed, and [Technomancy] to help produce and improve the foundry, I just need to find a resource dense area to mine and solving the problem of not having enough energy to fuel the industry. Worse comes to worse, I figured I just need to bleed out more blood.
The second perk is [Researcher, a perk that allows me to break down any ceilings in terms of developing known technology by flooding my brain with inspiration that scales with my knowledge base. The more I know about a certain topic, the more breakthrough and innovative ideas that will cross my mind. Combined with [Science, this perk basically fills my head with (close to) endless amounts of ideas the moment I try to create something new based on known theory.
And then there is the last perk. The most powerful perk I received in this batch, [Seed of Singularity]. It's hard to put into words how absurdly potent it is. On its own, this perk grants me the mind of someone who could break the balance of power in the Ark as easily as breathing. They say Necessity is the mother of invention. With this perk, You may as well be Necessity's mortal husband, with how much invention you seeded her with.
…That horny metaphor comes out of nowhere. Moving on.
[Seed of Singularity] alone makes me cut years of research into just months, while also making any prototype as advanced as a working model if comparison is needed. A finalized design is basically the holy grail for that tech tree, Once again, that is if it works alone.
Combined with [Change the World, nothing short of reality warping could stop me from dragging future tech into the present. Granted, it still requires at least a full month of dedicated research, but that's nothing compared to the payoff.
The moment I spotted Rapi standing over the crumpled form of Chatterbox, I felt a small wave of relief. Her hair and eyes were back to normal, the burning glow from earlier completely gone. She stood firm, weapon aimed at it. I waved to her, about to comment on that incredible kick of hers—something to lighten the tension. But my words caught in my throat as the Pilgrim stepped forward, pointing her rifle at Chatterbox's head.
The Tyrant-class Rapture is dying. With legs broken and only one arm left, it couldn't possibly escape if It wanted to. Rapi had also devastated its booster, removing any means of mobility. Its upper face mask had also been destroyed, leaving an ugly face with skinless sharp teeth and six bloody red eyes that stared dead center at the gun barrel.
"...please… …spare me…."Its voice was faint, and cracked, like a broken transmission on its last legs. It was unsettling, but I couldn't shake the sense that something was deeply wrong.
The Pilgrim looks at Chatterbox with disgust on her face."...Are you begging for your life? Stop this charade, I'm not buying your fake act." She said with disdain, putting her finger on the trigger. "Tell me, what do you know about the Queen?"
"...please…spare me…."Chatterbox repeated, ignoring her entirely. Its voice might've sounded pathetic, if not for the unmistakable hatred radiating from its tone. The malice in those red eyes only grew stronger with each second.
"My… Queen…"It whispered, all six eyes looking at the sky asking for salvation.
That is when the alarm bell rings inside my mind. I look up, trying to see why my instinct is screaming at me to be prepared.
Something bigger and far more terrifying than Chatterbox suddenly descended from heaven like a fallen angel, causing all of us to move several meters away from Chatterbox. Its white plates gleamed under the gloomy sky, every part of it exuding hatred and malevolence towards the human race far heavier than Chatterbox's.
Its form resembled a twisted parody of a mermaid, one that is headless and has a pair of wings that looked like they belonged on an aircraft. Two enormous jet engines on their shoulders humming with power, waiting for their turn to unleash their wrath. The thruster at the base of its mermaid-like fin glowed, emitting a faint hum that kept it floating in the air. Its right arm looks like a massive plasma emitter, while the other looks like an extendable spear that mimics a bee's stinger.
"Another Tyrant?!" Besides me, Rapi asked with eyes wide open. She turned to me, gripping her weapon so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Commander, we have to retreat! We couldn't possibly fight another Tyrant in our condition right now."
"That is not just a tyrant," The white Pilgrim corrected, her gaze landing on the airborne Rapture. "That is a Heretic." She growled like a wolf, her expression morphed to look more animalistic as she stared at it with loathing.
As if responding to the Pilgrim's declaration, its torso/head shifted open, plates sliding apart with mechanical precision to reveal something—or someone—within. A curvaceous figure emerged, stepping out from its chest like it was a cockpit with an almost casual grace. She hopped down, descending toward us as if the world belonged to her.
The smiles on her face would look cheerful, if not because of the sheer hatred she radiates. She looks like a silver-haired woman dressed in black and white, with hints of orange here and a white bandage hidden underneath her silver instincts tell me that she is not a human, and looking at her body, I can't help but agree. She looks too flawless, too perfect, to be human.
There is no mistaking it. She is a Nikke. But why would she side with Rapture?!
The Nikke in black landed near Chatterbox daintily. "Oh my, how pitiful of you, Chatty." She addressed with hauntingly familiar melodious voices.
"...Forgive me… My Queen… for… failing… my mission…"Chatterbox faintly rasped.
"Don't worry about it," she said sweetly. "Even if it was too early for me to get out, I will still save you." She crouched beside it, placing a hand on its battered face with a gentleness that felt disturbingly intimate.
The Pilgrim was trembling now, her weapon shaking in her hands. Her face twisted with pure, unbridled rage. "Traitor! Heretics! You who joined with the Rapture, who obeyed the Queen, who betrayed Humanity, who spat on every Nikkes sacrifices, our sacrifices, like it all means nothing-!"
"Modernia will do just fine," the Heretic interrupted calmly, her words cutting through the Pilgrim's outburst casually. Her smile didn't falter. If anything, it grew, as if it was nothing more than a child's tantrum to eyes, empty socket, bleeding tears.
"How lucky I am to be one step closer to killing the Queen." The white-haired Pilgrim declared confidently.
It caused the Silver-haired Heretic to scowl at her. The weapon attached to her back suddenly moved to aim at the white Pilgrim. "I could easily end you right now, but I won't," She said with a shrug, retracting her extra appendages. "For Chatty's sake, we will have to stop here for today." She added, snapping her hand. Suddenly, her figure, the giant mechanical body she piloted, and Chatterbox's form started glowing.
"I won't let you get away!" The white Pilgrim swiftly dumps all her bullets on the black Heretic.
The black heretic pointed her thumbs downward in response to the Pilgrim's same thumbs that once pushed my the bullets she fired suddenly curved downward, missing the target and getting buried in the earth. "But we did!" She said cheerfully, rubbing salt into the Pilgrim's wounded ego. "Besides, don't you all have something more to worry about?" With that, they all vanished in blue light.
As if responding to the sudden disappearance, purple lighting started descending from the sky. The once-calm weather turned into a storm in an instant. This immediately alarmed the Pilgrim and Rapi.
"Commander Sam, we have to retreat right now! What are your-, Commander Sam?" Rapi, who had stood beside me all this time, had only just now noticed how out of touch I was. Ever since the Heretic appearance, I hadn't responded to anything. My mind is occupied with dealing with the aching pain stabbing my heart.
Because even with different hair colors, different outfits, or her face covered with a V-shaped visor, I still recognize her. The intellect boost thanks to the forge makes it hard for me to forget what little memories I manage to accumulate.
Marian.
My instinct forced me to react to the incoming open hand coming to my face by grabbing it. I looked at the mechanical hand about to hit my cheek and then stared at its owner.
"Good, you finally snapped out of it." The white-haired Pilgrim began with a hiss. "I don't care what your connection with the Heretic was, judging by your reaction to her presence. If you want your squad to survive what is going to happen next, you need to stop moping around and start being a responsible commander." Her wise word to me is accompanied by the metallic screeching produced by the big bird made of metal descending from the rumbling sky.
"Thank you." I take a deep breath, forcing myself to be present in the moment instead of mulling on the unchangeable past. The Pilgrim is correct, I have to set aside whatever I feel for now. Our survival should be my priority.
Head in the game, Sam.