Before Entering Conservation Area 368—
Transport Craft
Babylonia
Spaceport
Babylonia, Spaceport, Transport Craft.
"Evolution" and "M.I.N.D."... You're leafing through the mission briefing, lost in thought, when a cup of hot water appears in your periphery.
You murmur automatically, your train of thought scattering. You look up to see Liv withdrawing her hand. She then turns to scan her retina on the new verification device by the hatch.
Identity verified—
With her identity confirmed, she smooths her dress, takes her seat, and leans over to peer at the terminal in your hands.
Oh, those are the mission reports from before...
The terminal screen glows with a list of missions, each one marked "Completed."
Assist with the new CPF installation: Completed. Clear Hetero-Creatures around the conservation area: Completed.
And... Gather research materials requested by Professor Hippocrates: Completed.
The frame adaptation period isn't even over, and already a new mission is waiting. This one, however, is entirely different from all the others.
...Commandant?
Noticing you staring into space, Liv quietly takes the cup from your hands, refills it with hot water, and sets it back on the table before joining you in gazing worriedly out the window.
It all happened so suddenly... I only had time to leave a quick message for Lucia and Lee. I feel terrible that I couldn't explain it to them properly... Are you sure this is okay?
I was really looking forward to seeing them... I even promised I'd bring them a few things.
Were it not for this unforeseen event, the two of you would be down there with Lucia and Lee, trekking between conservation areas to replace filters and fortify the zones.
Liv's eyes drift to the identity verifier by the cabin door as she speaks. With the hatch sealed, its once-persistent blinking has now ceased.
To think someone managed to sneak onto a Babylonia transport... I don't think anyone's ever done that before.
The mission briefing on the terminal displays a man's headshot at the top of the page. Leaning in closer, Liv studies the information listed beneath his photo.
Kolm Lebrant... He doesn't seem to be... in the best mental state.
Do you think we can really trust what he's told us?
As you fall deeper into thought, Kolm's photograph expands in your mind's eye, interweaving with shards of memory until it breaks free from the frame, fully animate.
One Day Ago
Interrogation Room
Babylonia
Control Court
Babylonia, Control Court, Interrogation Room.
You arrived at the interrogation room as ordered, only to walk in on Hassen in an exchange with members of the Control Court.
The target has been under our supervision from the moment of custody to the transfer. There is no risk of a leak.
We've also finished debriefing the transport crew. We've left a few... loose ends as bait. If anyone tries to follow that thread, we'll know.
Good, good... Ah, [player name]. You're here.
As the President turned away, Lesti caught your eye with a silent glance of greeting before swiftly taking her leave.
Hassen nodded and gestured for you to come closer. You followed his gaze—
Behind the one-way glass, a visibly distraught man was being interrogated by the Control Court.
Remember the "choice" I mentioned to you yesterday?
If one day you were faced with only two choices—an honest extinction, or a hypocritical survival—what would you choose?
Trillard already made that choice for us once.
I don't fear my own destruction. I only need to believe that everything we have fought for until now has meaning.
Mid-conversation, Kolm suddenly sprang to his feet behind the glass and slammed both fists onto the table. His voice was so loud that it was audible even without the monitoring headphones.
<size=30>I've told you more than enough already!</size>
<size=30>I'm not saying another word! Not until you put the Babylonia residence papers in my hand!!</size>
You put on the headphones Hassen handed you, and the voices from the interrogation room suddenly became crystal clear.
Calm down, Mr. Lebrant. Take it easy. There's no need to keep repeating your demands.
The Interrogator deliberately paused for a moment.
We honor requests that follow protocol. Provided, of course, your information is verified.
Residence is a small matter. I can arrange a provisional pass immediately. Once your information is confirmed, we can proceed to a permanent—
Provisional? No! No temporary passes! I am NOT going back to the surface!
I need it NOW! Don't you dare feed me another empty— ugh...
A burst of intense light pierced the man's pupils. Agitated, he winced and instinctively fell back into his seat.
The Interrogator flicked a finger, and the harsh light behind him switched off. His tone shifted gradually from placating to detached, draining all emotion from his words.
This is my final warning, Mr. Lebrant. You will let me finish. Once we verify your information and confirm that what you've provided is genuine, residency will be the least of your concerns.
However, your current behavior is not that of a valuable informant. It is the behavior of a man attempting to bluff his way into a fortress. And we have... very specific protocols for bluffs.
According to the corresponding law of Babylonia, any individual who gains entry through deception, forged documentation, or stowing away in regulated transport...
...is subject to classification as an illegal entrant and penalties commensurate with the specific circumstances of the violation.
I didn't... I wasn't trying to...
Furthermore, the law states that any attempt to acquire substantial assets through deception constitutes fraud.
While residency is not property, it is a regulated resource. It falls under this statute.
So, Kolm Lebrant, I suggest you adjust your attitude and answer my question...
I... I... Huff... I...
The man's face flushed crimson, his body trembling with pent-up energy. He made an aborted motion to lunge, but the sight of the interrogator's threatening demeanor made him cower. His resolve fractured into a series of twitches and halts, ending in a defeated stillness.
I... I heard things... about M.I.N.D.
You shot an uncertain glance at Hassen. He answered with a firm nod, a clear instruction to keep listening to the interrogation.
That day, I got bitten by a Hetero-Creature that ran out of the mine. Dr. Melinoe gave me painkillers and told me to rest in the medical station.
I-I must have dozed off, but the medication wore off too soon. I woke up groggy... heard people talking...
Two... maybe three men. Whispering. They said they'd been down in the deep mine, on an operation. At the very bottom... they found something.
They said that inside the mine... there was information about M.I.N.D. "evolution." And if they could get it out...
Yeah, I'd say the same.
Behind the one-way glass, Hassen averted his gaze, his focus narrowing to scrutinize the data on his terminal.
An accidental eavesdropping. An accidental arrival in Babylonia. And then, accidentally delivering that very information to our doorstep...
Babylonia's inspection protocols were stringent. Any transport vessel carrying supplies from the surface was immediately scanned by Gestalt the moment it entered Babylonian airspace.
Whether it was a conservation area resident attempting to stow away in a cargo container, or a concealed Hetero-Creature or Corrupted, Gestalt had never once failed to detect it.
Celica pulled the scan logs from the past few days. Not a single anomaly.
The Science Council has run the protocols three times, and no errors. The Engineering Force even took a look. Nothing.
And the Control Court is currently examining his personal belongings, checking for any devices capable of blocking Gestalt's signals—
His terminal chimed, alerting Hassen to an incoming message.
And now, the Control Court reports... nothing unusual in his personal effects.
It's a possibility the Court is considering. We do get the occasional opportunist who picks up a few buzzwords from the ruins and tries their luck.
The surface is practically littered by abandoned research facilities. Stumbling across certain keywords by chance isn't entirely surprising. However...
He shouldn't know those words have any connection to "evolution."
As Hassen settled into a nearby chair, he disturbed the stack of interrogation files beside him, causing it to tilt and reveal several documents.
On the exposed pages, the bolded and underlined terms "M.I.N.D." and "evolution" were clearly visible.
However he came by it, Kolm Lebrant should have no knowledge of this. None at all.
We need to find the source of his information. This is a sensitive matter, one I can only entrust to you.
Hassen retrieved his terminal and tapped a brief command. A moment later, your own device chimed.
Purification Mission, Target: Conservation Area 368.
This is the only task I'll give you.
And the rest... it's up to you.
You gave him a nod and turned to leave.
The interrogation room door closed with a soft thud, and as the light from the hallway vanished, it cast a stark divide of shadow and light across Hassen's face.
He settled his headphones back into place. Kolm Lebrant's voice filtered through once more, but Hassen's mind was already far away.
Late Post-Pandemic Age
Night
Late Post-Pandemic Age Night
The thunderous roar of transport aircraft echoed through the flame-lit night. Chunks of concrete crumbled from the teetering ruins above, landing on exposed rebar with sharp, brittle cracks.
A piercing metallic clamor mingled with the staccato roar of gunfire. Every indication suggested that the combatants were far from ordinary humans.
...
Sir, we've reached the designated forward perimeter. For your security, we must insist you return to the transport.
I understand the concern. But I need to see this. I need to see them.
A younger Hassen gazed down upon the streets, watching as well-equipped Constructs carved into the Corrupted-occupied districts with the clean efficiency of a scalpel.
Large Corrupted spotted in Sector D-3! I repeat, large Corrupted spotted in Sector D-3!
Snipers in position!
Sector F-5, we have multiple casualties! Three wounded, one KIA!
Copy that! Support is en route!
With battle updates streaming through his earpiece, Hassen gripped the railing tightly as he watched the Constructs hold their ground against the massive axe blade of the infected gardener robot.
...Sir, it's too dangerous here. The observation protocol doesn't allow for...
Let me watch them a little longer.
With the taste of iron flooding his mouth and his knuckles bone-white, he watched the battle in the streets with a desperate hunger, determined to sear every last detail into his mind.
...Just a little longer.
One Construct met the Corrupted's axe with overwhelming force, batting the weapon away. The impact sent a cascade of blue electricity erupting through the enemy lines, leaving several foes frozen and twitching from the paralyzing shock.
Seizing the moment, a Construct in pink dashed forward to aid the wounded. She deployed her Levi-Guns, laying down a hail of covering fire while helping the injured fall back...
Sir, the time...
I know... Just a few more minutes...
Let him indulge himself one last time.
Hassen's gaze followed the agile pink Construct as she wove through the crossfire like a nimble white dove, her Levi-Guns precisely intercepting the Corrupted's attacks on the wounded.
These were the first truly battle-ready military Constructs, the first to be deployed in actual combat.
Whether in terms of M.I.N.D. stability or overall combat performance, they represented the elite among soldiers.
Let him watch this a little longer...
Watch these Constructs in battle... and this planet they were fighting for.
Working in unison, the Constructs steadily reduced the number of Corrupted, expanding the safe zone. The soldier no longer urgently pressed Hassen to return to the transport.
This city... was about to be reclaimed by humanity.
...The Reconquista Age is about to begin.
...Sir? I didn't catch that.
...It was nothing.
As the gunfire shifted to another part of the city, Hassen pressed his lips into a thoughtful line, then turned and walked back to the transport.
Let's return to Babylonia.
Yes, sir.
The transport ascended, granting a perfect aerial view of the battlefield.
Below, ruins crumbled beneath artillery crossfire, while electromagnetic barriers carved out temporary safe zones the Corrupted dared not breach.
In just a few decades, the Punishing Virus had devoured millennia of human civilization, forcing mankind to flee into the depths of space.
But from that day forward...
The spark of humanity would be rekindled.
He gazed intently as the frontline pushed ever forward.
That city would soon belong to humanity once more.
And so it begins... the Reconquista Age.
Through the transport's window, he watched Constructs begin cleanup operations across the battlefield below, their work stretching to the horizon.
It was a preview of the future: humanity, piece by piece, taking back their homeland.
Click—
An alert signaling the interrogation's critical phase jolted Hassen from his memories, and Kolm Lebrant's testimony echoed in the headphones.
...They said that inside the lab... there was information about M.I.N.D. "evolution." And if they could get it out... the Transatlantic Economic Community or Akdilek would definitely be interested in this technology.
M.I.N.D., the Phylotree, and nodes. Those are really the only key terms.
He shifted in his seat and unfolded the paper in his hand. Under the light, a hand-drawn tree bled into view.
The Construct technology had ushered in the Reconquista Age for both Babylonia and humanity.
If this intelligence—meant to stay buried within Gestalt—proved true, what unforeseen advantages might it offer humanity?
Click—
Hassen placed the headphones on the table and strode toward the door.
There was no need to hear the rest of the interrogation; a multitude of arrangements demanded his attention.
Whatever form the coming challenges took, he would ensure Babylonia rode the crest of this new tide.
That would be... the dawn of a new era.
The door sighed open and shut, leaving only the hollow cycle of question and answer echoing in the dim room.
