Story Reader / Floating Record / ER10 Deceivers' Rapture / Story
Bridge Deck
The vanguard unit now works outside the military direct command, carrying out reconnaissance in Old Las Prados. Centered on the city, our most recent missions confirm the spread of Punishing contamination across the surrounding desert.
The holographic map glosses over the city's ruins, but that glaring crimson hue refuses to go unnoticed.
The skirmishes on the front lines continue, but that isn't our concern. Our priority is to enhance the prototype Constructs' internal shielding. We're deploying them into a high-intensity combat zone to run live tests and gather critical data.
Old Las Prados—overrun by Corrupted from day one and devoid of human survivors—serves as the ultimate proving ground.
The image freezes on a magnified view of the inner city ruins.
Is this... a homecoming of sorts, returning to a place once known?
She regards the city's spectral outline with a keen fascination.
Wagering your life against the unseen Punishing Virus has got to be a bigger thrill than a simple card game—don't you think?
Monzano seizes the moment, igniting the passion of everyone gathered around him.
When did you ever get this generous with me, Aunt? You've practically handed me the perfect chance to get ahead.
Be sure you don't get so caught up in the fun that you lose sight of the mission. It still needs to be finished—so collect all the data you can...
...Time to put this painstakingly crafted frame through its paces. Let's find out how far it can really go.
The madam moves closer, her voice hushed to a whisper as she addresses Lilith.
Please, don't worry... I'm every bit as intrigued by this question as you are.
She appears completely unfazed by Monzano's looming presence, going so far as to offer her a confident smile in return.
Oh, right... could you look after the Gray Mako fireteam as well?
Monzano shifts her gaze to the Constructs stationed in the far corner of the deck.
Their leader snaps to attention and salutes without hesitation.
Gray Mako—three on the roster, but only two have made it. Mako-1, reporting in to Sergeant Eleanor!
That's a pretty formal title, huh? I'm still getting used to all these military courtesies.
Oh, right... where's our last teammate? Give me a status update.
Her shock flickers away in an instant, and she quickly straightens into the posture of a commander.
This is also part of your mission: recovering the missing teammate.
On a previous scout mission, Mako-3 never managed to board the evacuation transport. From the faint signals we've picked up, he's still out there somewhere in the city.
Without a trace of feeling, the Construct soldier recounts what might have befallen their ally.
For them, this mission might as well be a homecoming.
With that, the madam hands Lilith the final intel she needs.
...?
All the prototype Construct candidates were volunteers—former residents of Las Prados, each one stepping forward of their own free will.
What about Kephart? I don't see that so-called "honorary citizen" volunteering to lead Earth's counterstrike.
All that pompous talk is begging for a sarcastic retort.
He's a key figure in the council—choose your words carefully and show some respect.
I get it—everyone fights their own battles in the end.
Every time she talks to the Madam, she slips right back into that poised, commanding grace.
...
The Construct leader stands there in an unsettling hush, his helmet bristling with sensors, hiding his features from view.
This concludes our pre-battle briefing.
Good luck. Let's move out.
A silent sliding door at the rear of the deck opens, revealing the elevator that leads directly to the hangar.
Still... whatever the rules of engagement may be, I'm prepared to face them.
She offers a bow, just as she always does.
Get down! Behind you!
The downpour's interference throws off our sensors, leaving the leader—fully engaged in combat—oblivious to the danger closing in behind him.
Ugh...
He tries to swing his gun around, but the Corrupted surge is too close for him to react.
An umbrella?!
A swirling mass of purple and black flares up in the tight space between them.
SCREEE—
Is that really all you've got?
In a sudden flare, the Moon Umbrella snaps open, intercepting a deadly strike aimed straight at the leader.
Get down!
The leader hurls himself flat against the ground in a split second.
Petals and ribs clamp shut in unison, forcing a surge of compressed air to blast out through tiny vents at the Umbrella's tip.
Raaargh—rrrgghh!
The Corrupted staggers but quickly finds its balance, launching yet another fierce assault on Lilith.
That unsettling crimson light only flickers for a moment before going dark.
The umbrella's tip strikes the sensor with surgical precision, carving out tiny shards of glass.
Um...
What's it like to be taken down by your own carelessness...?
She lowers her Moon Umbrella, gazing at the Corrupted's lifeless husk on the ground, a smug smile tugging at her lips.
Th-thank you...
The leader, just barely clinging to life a moment ago, struggles for breath.
But if it happens again, don't expect me to be so merciful—understand?
Left side! Last target!
At last, the team leader's instincts kick in, razor-sharp.
!!!
Automatic fire erupts in staccato bursts Dark copper casings spin through the rain, carving a brilliant arc in the gloom.
Fatal error, self—...
Nickel-plated, semi-armor-piercing high-explosive rounds shred the mechanical ghoul's spine. Its twisted metal frame slams into the mud with a resounding crash—so heavy it briefly eclipses even the deafening roar of the downpour.
All hostiles have been taken down—hold your position and remain on high alert!
That's more like it.
This is my dear aunt's precious masterpiece—if a pack of deranged robots wreck it, there's no way I can explain myself when I get back.
The fireteam ignores the sarcastic remark, pouring all their focus into the screens of their handheld terminals.
...It's Mako-3's identification beacon. We're getting close.
Factoring out terrain interference and Punishing-virus distortion, they can pinpoint the signal's source in the abandoned mall at their nine o'clock.
Uh...
He looks uneasy, as though something is off.
His reaction makes perfect sense—it's one thing to have a theory, but the battlefield itself is always far harsher.
Although the built-in shielding system doesn't rely on human Mind Beacons to stabilize M.I.N.D. like the Inver-Device, it still doesn't perform much better in high-intensity conditions.
One system filters the Punishing Virus that slips into the frame; the other forms a protective bubble the virus can't penetrate. Neither can truly absorb it—a technological marvel yet to be achieved.
Still, putting themselves at risk is precisely what missions like this are about.
Keep your combat data recorder running at all times—any data gathered under these circumstances is priceless.
Keep moving on.
She delivers her command with an icy finality.
As they reach the area near the beacon, they find the rain has ceased.
Lilith enters the cavernous mall atrium, tilts her gaze skyward, and draws in a deep, measured breath.
Yeah...
She absently runs her tongue over her lips. She relies on her hyper-sensitive taste sensors far more than her sense of smell.
The post-rain air is anything but clean, as the tang of iron and the stench of rot sweep in all at once.
But it's not those trinkets that get her heart racing—she can practically taste the thickening aura of the Punishing Virus.
I'm not here to babysit you. Just be smart!
She seems to have forgotten her role as a mere stand-in sergeant, stepping briskly into the mall's depths without hesitation.
With no alternative, the Constructs press onward.
Mako-2, proceed to the escalator.
Beneath the dome that has long since crumbled, the only sound is the echo of Construct boots splashing through puddles.
In position. Checking structural integrity.
The two carefully examine the corroded metal framework, only to realize the female Construct—brandishing umbrella as blade—has already made it to the second-floor corridor.
This instills them with the confidence they need.
Take turns covering each other and move out under Sergeant Eleanor's lead.
Understood. Heading to the second floor now.
They place their feet on the last step with utmost caution—then everything suddenly changes.
...No, that's not right... I'm not... Data corrupted. Attempting to reload... re-re-re...
...The virus has breached the limit! Fall back...! Beginning Memory upload—upload in progress...
A Corrupted Construct staggers in, clinging to a hazy shred of Memory as an eerie, synthesized groan resonates from its throat.
Identify yourself!
No, no... please, I'm begging you! No—no... just... wait! I'm begging you—don't shoot...
No... don't shoot...!
The wailing Construct is completely unarmed and displays no hostile intent whatsoever.
Stop right there!!
No... please... I'm begging you... don't... no... no!
He keeps staggering forward, his steps twisted and wrong. The squad leader shares a quick, tense glance with the others.
Squad member two nods in confirmation, then pulls the trigger.
A single semi-armor-piercing, high-explosive round pierces straight through the Corrupted Construct's forehead, putting an end to its agony.
I... am Llo... yd...
The Corrupted Construct rasps out its dying words, then crumples like a puppet with its strings cut.
...?
He's probably a straggler from another fireteam, but there's no way to scan his ID beacon.
Neither of them says a word—an indescribable horror has them rooted to the spot.
In the end, the Construct speaks the name of its missing comrade.
Within the mall's deserted corridors, there's no sign of Sergeant Eleanor.
...Keep moving toward the source of the signal.
Understood.
Rounding the corner of a nearby shop, they come upon a far more horrifying sight.
All trace of standard-issue gear on the third member is gone—eaten away until nothing remains but bone. A tall, silver-haired woman stands there, her razor-sharp heel spearing the exposed skeleton to a jagged piece of rebar jutting from the floor.
Sergeant Eleanor...?
What are you doing?
At the sound, Lilith spins around, her eerie smile sending shivers deep through their deep M.I.N.D.s.
...Don't you see? This place now has the highest level of Punishing contamination.
With fully automated customer guides and sales robots at every turn... shopping malls have become even more perfect hotbeds for its spread than entertainment venues.
...I... connection establishing... error, error...
The battered remains underfoot still manage a feeble moan.
Sergeant Eleanor, our orders are to retrieve Mako-3.
When he's done speaking, he presses the release catch on the gun's side, slides in a fresh magazine, then yanks back the bolt to ready his weapon.
That's our teammate.
Undeterred by their strained jamming system, the two edge closer to Lilith. After all, they still have a mission to finish.
Oh? Hmph... You still don't get it, do you?
Moments ago, you used your own hands to kill your comrade—the third member of Gray Mako. Or, to be precise, you erased his backup Memory.
And what I'm standing on... is him, too.
I doubt Aunt ever expected her plan to work this quickly... ha.
...!
Impossible! Recall has never...
In unison, they drop their weapons, each one echoing the other's cry of astonishment.
Naturally, they recall the vow Madam Monzano gave on the day their bodies were first altered.
A Memory can be moved at will... and bodies? If you want to make more, there's no limit to how many you can churn out.
The moment the jammer goes down, their Memories are sent straight to the central hub—ready to be installed in fresh frames.
This is the method Madam Monzano has set her heart on—a way to create the perfect soldier that stands apart from both the military and Kurono.
They've never put much stock in that kind of talk—yet here they are, staring at a living, breathing example.
Too bad, isn't it? We're still nowhere near a real breakthrough.
You saw it yourselves, right? His Memory hasn't returned to Babylonia. It just jumped—through a hardware interface—into another Construct body that had already shut down...and only part of his data made the trip.
But these petty details are so dull... Think living a long time automatically makes you strong? By that logic, horseshoe crabs, which have been around for two hundred million years before the virus ever hit, would be Earth's true overlords, don't you think?
The female Construct remains lost in her whispered delirium, as though drifting into a faint, dreamlike haze.
...Sergeant Eleanor, remove the restraints. We need to reclaim Mako-3's remains.
He can't make sense of what's unfolding, but that voice is begging all the same.
...Were you calling for me? Oh, don't be so impatient. You've already completed your mission objective.
We're deploying them into a high-intensity combat zone to run live tests and gather critical data.
In the blink of an eye, the Construct soldier's built-in alarm blares to life.
Warning: Internal shielding is at the critical threshold of its filtration cycle. Evacuate immediately. Warning—internal...
Sergeant Eleanor, we have to move now!!
Aaarghhhh!
The soldier beside the leader suddenly unleashes a shrill, agonized scream.
The unprocessed Punishing Virus surges from the dialysis apparatus, flooding the last fragments of sanity the two can cling to. A torrent of data—impossible for their M.I.N.D.s to grasp—quickly engulfs their mind.
Back...up... M...I...
The leader's memory shell doesn't even finish processing that final thought before he collapses with a thud.
His teammate fights on, desperate and trembling.
This... no... stay out of my head... Aaaah!!!!
Argh... It hurts... It hurts so much...
The poised efficiency from moments ago vanishes, leaving the Construct huddled on the filthy floor.
...I don't understand.
You're...
He turns as though he's speaking to someone who isn't there, but his disjointed whispers soon fade away.
Suddenly, his sensor flares red.
The Corrupted Construct snaps upright, stiff as a puppet on display.
SCREEE—
You worthless junk! We only just got you plugged in, and already you...
Pathetic sh*t who never learned to value their chance.
She furrows her brow on instinct, her tone laced with regret... and scorn.
Die.
With barely a thought, she flicks out two card-shaped, high-carbon steel throwing knives.
One cuts through the Corrupted Construct's processor; the other seals the former leader's fate, ending him where he lies.
Alright, let's find out exactly how far your blind luck has carried you.
She drops her eyes to the broken remains beneath her, then taps into the target's M.I.N.D.
In the ravaged mall, jagged walls and rubble seem to stretch endlessly downward. Lilith plunges into a realm where reality itself bends beyond comprehension.
Shapes she can still make out melt away one after another. She practically senses the Punishing Virus ripping through every nerve in her mind.
That's it... keep going! Don't stop now!
She beckons the virus closer, inviting it in.
Just as she anticipates, a dark red mesh surges forward, carving the machine's agony into hundreds of uniform squares.
At the boundary of her sight, a crimson tide gathers and solidifies, ultimately coalescing into a figure she recognizes.
We meet again.
I have to admit, you really outdid yourself this time...
Very few have the power to tap into the Ascension-Network all by themselves.
Are you hoping I'll fail, sir?
Fueled by her exhilaration, she boldly flaunts her triumph.
My power comes from the Network. Who's chosen lies beyond my control.
The Ascension-Network isn't some array of sharpened blades; it's a finely woven sieve. Of course, it never shows mercy to those who are too fragile.
He states the rules with measured calm.
So... those few just now, they all gave up halfway?
That's correct. For someone like you—capable of lasting in such a high-intensity environment—the Ascension-Network offers an invitation. But whether you can claim its blessings depends on your conviction and strength.
Turns out this is the accidental breakthrough Aunt achieved using fragmented data from Project Winter...
In her eyes, evolution is all about harnessing an internal shield and transferring one's Memory—fully warding off the Punishing Virus.
A flawed start and a misguided path can still, somehow, knock upon the right door...
She gives a soft laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all.
...Take another moment to reflect. You've arrived too soon, and you haven't truly stepped beyond that threshold.
His expression never wavers as he pronounces his judgment.
...Not satisfied with our last match in the Ascension-Network? Don't worry. I'm fully prepared to entertain your new rules.
A subtle hint of annoyance settles on her brow.
Take it easy. Perhaps Monzano's been piling on too many missions... It's easy for people to slip into new ways of thinking without even noticing.
For now, I'll trust that you're not the sort who prizes raw power over true insight.
Force is merely the baseline that ensures a fair fight. I know this all too well.
Sir, perhaps you should speak more plainly.
You haven't spent nearly enough time under the Ascension-Network's influence—and this is just the beginning.
Completely opening oneself to this pain is the only path leading to the Filtering.
You were the one who once set your sights on the throne... and now the plague's very origin lies in your grasp.
Think it over. The key to that door—I've already handed it to you. Use it wisely.
That silhouette dissolves, drifts away, and finally disappears into the depths of the twisting space.
The wave of euphoria gradually settles, and the thrill drains away.
The pain once fractured into cubes melts away, and her body finally feels as though it's reclaiming its true form in the real world.
A cold shopping mall corridor comes back into focus in her visual feed.
Open myself completely...?
She lingers on that thought for a moment, then rises onto her toes.
Echo-419 to Gray Mako—requesting your pickup coordinates. Over.
A transmission crackles through the comms.
Gray Mako here—Sergeant Eleanor reporting. Mission clock reads 03:56. Coordinates: N 36°9', W115°3'.
All other Gray Mako personnel are KIA. We've recovered the operation data. Over.
...Copy that. Moving to the rendezvous point for pickup. Echo-419, out.
Lilith steps over to the two fallen Constructs, calmly extracting the data chips embedded above their spines.
She casts a sly glance at the third husk—impaled by a steel rod—then turns and makes her way toward the ladder.
Petri dishes, test samples, microbial cultures—each one is absolutely vital.
And she already has everything she needs to set the filter in motion.
My dearest aunt... this time, I'm making the first move.
Driven by a craving to warp every norm, the player is about to leap headlong into the decadent cage they've built for themselves.
