Rosetta: Arete I
>Deep truck tracks cut through the snow. A researcher crouches over them, studying the marks with full concentration.
He seems utterly absorbed, as if the tire marks open the door to some hidden scientific wonderland—one he hopes will lead to a groundbreaking discovery worthy of shaking the academic world.
Unfortunately, he'll never get that chance. A hole has been blown through the back of his skull—his brilliant mind reduced to a grim, blossoming red wound now exposed to the falling snow.
The tire tracks he was so fascinated by don't stretch much farther. Only ten meters ahead lies half a transport truck, overturned and completely burned out.
The other half of the cargo bay is lodged inside an institute building with half its floors sheared away, giving the scene an unintentionally brutalist look.
The air reeks of scorched fur, burnt leather, and the oily black smoke of half-incinerated flesh. No one escaped. Countless bodies lie frozen before the giant floor-to-ceiling windows.
The flames twisted the bodies into unnatural shapes. Interlaced arms and legs make the half-collapsed institute building resemble a giant spider's nest.
Everyone is dead.
Inside a classified Arctic Route institute
Several hours earlier
A few hours earlier, inside a classified Arctic Route institute—
The frame replacement is going smoothly. Data sync is at 97%. Gray Raven Commandant, you don't have to watch over us the whole time.
Oh, come on now. Ever since the Amberia incident went public, we Arctic Route researchers haven't dared cross another line in Construct tech research...
Memories of Chrome, Liv, Vera, and the other Constructs flash through your mind. You shake your head, trying to push those troubling moments aside.
As long as you don't hold it against us, that's good enough. Oh, data sync is complete. [player name], please wait a moment, we'll need your help with one more step.
Normally, the replacement would be finished now, but this new frame is special. It can switch between humanoid and hybrid forms, so it needs extra calibration and M.I.N.D. maintenance.
[player name]...
Strange... I'm seeing multiple phantom images...
Hallucinations? Yeah... that does sound like M.I.N.D. instability from switching to a new frame.
Take a moment to rest. I'll grab you our specialty—Arctic Ice cold-brew. After that, we'll need your help stabilizing Rosetta's M.I.N.D.
The researcher looks relaxed, almost cheerful, humming a tune as he heads toward the lab door like he's about to wrap up a routine project.
He doesn't notice the cold draft forcing its way in through the door seams, which carries with it the faint, metallic scent of blood.
The door opens—
!
[player name]—!
BOOM—!
Hostiles!
The moment the lab door opens, Rosetta lunges forward with her still-unfamiliar frame, tackling you to the ground.
With a thunderous blast, the researcher who'd been talking about coffee a moment ago is blown apart across the spot where you had been standing.
I can still fight.
All Corrupted. Thirty... no, sixty! All heavily armed!
Rosetta plants herself in the doorway, her halberd cutting through the swarm while she holds the tide back for you.
[player name], we won't last long like this. Can you reach any nearby defense units?
(Static)
(Static)
...
Run! They're everywhere. Wherever you are... just run...
The call ends with a dull, wet tearing sound. You can almost smell the blood through the receiver as it floods your senses.
Run... hurry...
Blood fills the dying man's throat, choking off his voice. He has no idea where safety might be, but the urge to live drives him to tell you, on the other end of the terminal, what you must do next.
Grrr!
It sounds like the receiver has fallen into Corrupted hands. You have nothing to say to creatures that can't even understand you. Before the cold, metallic stench of blood seeps through the line, you cut the channel.
Well? It doesn't sound promising, does it?
I can manage... Getting you out won't be a problem.
I'll do what I can... but where are we evacuating to?
There's a transport vehicle outside that still looks functional. I'll clear us some space. You gather the survivors.
You too.
After confirming the plan with Rosetta, you sync your timing with hers. Three, two, one... you split and rush out into the chaos.
Rosetta's high-energy halberd cuts through the Corrupted as easily as melted snow. She unleashes her full power, carving out a safe circle around you.
Even with Rosetta covering you, you still stumble through the raging horde. After dodging several attacks by a hair's breadth, you finally dive into the transport vehicle's driver's cabin.
Thank goodness! I thought I was done for!
Safe inside the driver's cabin, you push the heavy transport through the Corrupted swarm, ramming anything in your way. Before it gives out, your improvised "Noah's Ark" manages to gather all its passengers and prepare for departure into the Punishing storm.
[player name]! The side! Move!
The side mirror that should've shown you the blind spot was lost earlier during the collisions. Rosetta's shout jolts you, and you finally notice it—a swelling Corrupted creature leaping at the truck from the side.
Rosetta tries to intercept with her halberd, but her uncalibrated frame and unstable M.I.N.D. slow her for an instant. The Corrupted creature lands on the truck, its eyes flickering with a terrifying red light before going still.
Urgh—!
Boom!
The blast tears through the vehicle. The cargo bay is thrown onto the half-collapsed institute building. Your would-be Noah's Ark is destroyed before it ever had a chance to escape, swallowed whole by the Punishing wave.
After the explosion, only flames remain, burning quietly across the snow. They whisper the planet's cruel truth: only the dead ever know true peace.
Snowfields
Arctic region
Arctic region. Unknown coordinates. Snowfields.
So, aside from some bruises and mild burns from being tossed around, you're perfectly fine again? Honestly... this isn't even surprising anymore. I've run out of compliments for your luck.
I've been briefed on your situation. Babylonia is preparing a rescue operation, but...
You can hear hesitation in Asimov's voice on the other side of the line.
As you know, our deployable forces in the Arctic are limited. And... just now, I received word from Nikola.
Through the crackling signal, the bad news reaches you:
Communication between Babylonia and the Arctic region has completely broken down. At this moment, you're the only person in the entire Arctic region still in contact with Babylonia.
I've sent the location of the evacuation safehouse and the route to reach it to your terminal. There's a transport aircraft waiting there that can take you back to Babylonia. But...
We've detected extremely strong signal interference across the Arctic. It's spreading rapidly toward your location. Combined with the unknown attacks happening everywhere, this is one of the reasons all ground units went silent. Our connection with you will be cut in about fifteen minutes.
It shouldn't take too long, but I have no exact timeframe. Which means that during your entire evacuation to the safehouse, Babylonia can't provide any support. You'll be on your own with Rosetta... Do you have any questions?
I read your report. She switched to a new frame, fought intensely without calibration or M.I.N.D. stabilization, and was already injured. She protected you during the transport explosion and absorbed most of the impact. Anything you want to add?
Rosetta's with you, isn't she? How is she holding up? We have a few minutes left. Let me speak with her. I need to assess her frame's condition.
Rosetta looks out across the barren snowfields. Endless white stretches toward the horizon, swallowed by the frozen night. Above you, bright celestial bodies move in absolute silence, as if quietly directing the fate of every living thing and the turning of generations.
The moon hangs high over the polar night. The air is unusually calm for these Arctic snowfields, but for two people on the run, this calm is anything but comforting.
Moonlight, bright as false daylight, spills across the snow. Its reflection exposes your silhouettes as if nature itself were shining a spotlight on you. Only your tired, heavy footsteps and uneven breaths break the silence.
Under the bright moon, only the cold wind continues to howl...
What was that sound?
[player name], did you hear that?
No... wait. I think I really did hear something.
—
[player name], hurry... come with me!
It sounds like... waves?
Rosetta is certain she heard a call that shouldn't exist in this place. The surge of emotion, like reuniting with something long lost, becomes the strength that carries her injured body. Stumbling forward, she forces herself over a massive snow ridge.
Exhaustion, soreness, and every discomfort are amplified by her injuries and cling to her damaged new frame. When she finally pauses, the strain overwhelms her and her vision goes dark.
When her sight returns, she finds herself facing a landscape completely unlike the endless snowfields.
Where... am I?
The snowfields end abruptly here. Brown-green tundra and bare stone take over the land, with scattered patches of snow stubbornly clinging on as if insisting they once ruled this place.
In the distance, the cold bay looks almost like welcoming arms. A small settlement lines the shore, a few warm lights glowing. The waves sound lively, as if greeting someone who has been gone a very long time.
A cabin? Wait... is that Grandpa's cabin?
Why is Grandpa's cabin here? And... why is there a town?
Because... this is the realm of the departed. Rosetta, you've come to see your grandpa.
A voice that should never be heard again suddenly sounds beside Rosetta's ear—aged, familiar, trembling with emotion. Every word feels like it rises straight out of her memories.
The simple wooden cabin opens its arms to her, warm light spilling out like a soft carpet welcoming her home. Puff stands in the doorway, looking exactly as he did in her distant memories.
Grandpa...
You've grown so much, Rosetta. You're a young woman now.
Inside the cabin, the hunched old man looks up at Rosetta, now taller than he is. His broad, rough hand brushes over the mechanical parts exposed on her frame, his eyes filled with pride and sorrow.
You've suffered a lot, haven't you? Life hasn't been easy on you.
No, Grandpa. I've been doing well. I've been taking care of myself and as many others as I can... and now, there's someone who looks after me when I'm weak too.
Is that so? That's wonderful. I'd like to meet this person someday.
[player name] is nearby. Wait for me, Grandpa. I'll bring the commandant here to meet you right away.
My silly child... there's no need.
Why not? I want the commandant to meet you too!
Because this place is the realm of the departed.
Puff repeats the word with gravity, and Rosetta finally has to face the truth she has always known deep inside.
What separated her from her grandpa was never distance, nor any power or organization... but the one rule the universe never breaks: death.
The departed? Grandpa, are you saying everyone here... is dead? Is this... the world after death?
Rosetta stares at the quiet village by the bay, shocked. She struggles to accept that behind every warm window here might be someone who died long ago.
Then... what about me? Am I dead too?
No, child. This is the world we once lived in together. The world where we worked hard, breathed with all our strength, and struggled to survive every single day.
And the fact that you are still alive in that world... that is my greatest joy.
The old man looks at Rosetta with gentle eyes and says nothing more.
As the sun rises over the horizon, Puff taps her shoulder lightly, urging her to look out the window.
As if responding to her gaze, the small village begins to wake. Familiar and unfamiliar faces step outside carrying the tools of their daily labor. On this planet, people always rise again, reclaiming clarity from their dreams day after day.
Look, everyone's already starting their day. We shouldn't fall behind.
The old man turns, takes the familiar hunting bow from the wall, and hands it to Rosetta.
Time to hunt, Rosetta... You haven't forgotten the techniques I taught you, have you?
Rosetta takes the bow. The same one that once seemed oversized in her childhood hands now fits her perfectly.
First step, look for tracks...
This season, we hunt deer.
Which way should we go, Grandpa?
Toward the deer, child. You really have gotten rusty.
A little embarrassed, Rosetta follows behind her grandpa, heading toward the distant forest.
Tracks... but not deer. I'll check ahead!
Slow down, and stay light on your feet. We're hunting deer, not racing them.
Grandpa, I actually can outrun deer now.
Their light banter is cut short by the sharp snap of a bowstring.
An arrow whistles through the forest from somewhere unseen. A strong, unusually colored reindeer bursts out from the woods, spotting the two uninvited visitors.
Rosetta locks eyes with the deer, and a strange sense of familiarity hits her.
Rosetta!
Puff's shout snaps her back. Rosetta quickly draws her bow, but she's a heartbeat too slow. The string twangs and the arrow flies, but the startled deer is already gone. Her full-powered shot disappears into the trees. She really has gotten rusty.
Rosetta, what made you hesitate?
Damn it! I'll go after it!
Frustrated by her mistake, Rosetta seems not to hear a word Puff says. She slings the bow over her shoulder again, ready to sprint after the deer using her Construct speed.
Rosetta, what did you see?
A hand grabs her just as she's about to dash forward.
You hold Rosetta back before she can force her injured body into a full sprint across the frostbitten wasteland. The cold moon hangs high over the polar night. White snow and ice still rule this lifeless land.
Rosetta looks at your worried face, then back toward where she thought the forest was. The endless white snow reflects a sharp light that sends a stabbing ache through her visual sensors.
I... I don't know. I think I saw my grandpa...
I don't know...
You hand her the terminal, worry written across your face. The call is still connected.
Rosetta takes the terminal from your hand. Asimov's calm, authoritative voice comes through on the other end.
A moment later, the channel breaks into static. Just as Asimov warned, the interference finally catches up to you, cutting off your last line of communication.
Asimov says we need to reach the evacuation safehouse within five days.
You pause. Asimov never said that when he was talking to you earlier.
[player name], let's verify the coordinates for the safehouse. Yes... everything matches.
As long as I avoid pushing my frame too hard, I should be fine. No other major issues.
It won't affect anything. Besides, you're here. You'll wake me if it happens again, right?
You both give each other a final check, making sure all your gear is still secure.
...Moving out.
Your footsteps whisper across the empty snowfields. The moon hanging over the polar night stands witness to the long, lonely journey the two of you are about to face.
