The film began with one man fighting in the streets. Though the term man was one loosely applied to the figure on the screen. He was more machine than man, and unlike Seras he hid absolutely nothing. Wires, pistons, and turning gears all animated the man, almost like the clock work abominations they had found in the stellar astral space.
The man faced off against an army of men and woman in black cloth armor all wielding strange versions of Seras’ gun. Bright flares of light appeared from the muzzles of these weapons as the army tried to bring down the machine man. Rockets, grenades, and poison gas filled the streets. But nothing kept the man down as he moved around the street with enough speed to rival slower silver rankers. An incredible feat for just a normal ranker.
Athena watched the scene with bated breath as she recognized so many of Seras’ own reactions and maneuvers in this man. She saw where the strange Outworlder had first begun developing her own style nearly half a century after this man had died.
A voice began to speak over the violence, “this is the first ever recording of the legendary Mercenary Nightmare at work, though this is far from the beginning of his career. After the end of the third corporate war medical prosthesis began to see their way into mass use across all sectors of society, and with the continued decline of the environment around us these prostheses soon became a necessity of daily life. But while many military engineers were looking into the more aggressive potentials for these cybernetics, it was Nightmare who first used a full body conversion to become a living weapon. And with him a new wave of guns for hire would soon find their way into our society.
“The fall of JDR headquarters in the ancient city of Sanctuary is often cited as the begging of the age of Mercs. In this first video you can see why. As one man waged a war against one of the then biggest corporations of his time his actions would inspire a generation of Mercs to come.
The image then cut to a different scene, a small squat looking building surrounded by a crowd of very strange looking people. It was hard to tell at first, but the translation rune did its job a transformed the brightly glowing neon sign above the building into something readable. Sin and Misery.
The scene then shifted to what Athena assumed to be the inside of the bar. Bright flashing lights, incredibly odd looking people wearing the skimpiest clothes she had ever seen, and lots of dancing filled the interior. But despite all the glimmer and flash Athena didn’t miss that every person in this bar was armed with small hand guns, a more advanced version of Seras’ own pistol. Everyone within looked rough and ready to resort to violence in a second.
The camera focused on a man with neon green hair, an unhealthy tint to his skin, and a metal bracing around his lower jaw.
“Shit, you want to talk about Nightmare,” the green haired man said, “what’s there to talk about. Man was a fucking legend, aint none of us would be here without him. Though with his ancient ass augs I think I could take him.” The man wore a smug grin before a familiar voice behind him called out.
“Shut the hell up Jackle, you’re a two-bit merc at best. Nightmare would wipe the floor with you, outdated gear or not. That man was something else.” A woman at a booth just off to the side japed. The people she was with broke into laughter at the affronted look on Jackle’s face.
The video cut away back to a much brighter scene, this time it was of Nightmare fighting in broad day light. They appeared to be duking it out in a park of all places, eight hulking humanoid figures stomped around the yellow and dead looking grass on the city park. They swung around giant guns that quickly obliterated any cover Nightmare used, these guns seemed to have multiple barrels that spun around firing an insane number of deadly projectiles.
But the subject of the film didn’t seem to care, he darted from one to another, out maneuvering the hulking armored gunman before moving in for the kill. His machine arm opened up a bright flare of light and smoke burst out as giant metal canister flew out to hit one of the attackers. There was a bright flash and lots of smoke, but when the dust cleared the gunman was lying dead, with his whole metal chest blown out.
The scene then shifted to a skinny man with a strange tool attached to his arm, the tool flared with bright light as it cut through the thick metal plate he was working on. “You see the thing about Nightmare wasn’t just how good at fighting he was, it was his skill as an engineer. The man worked with trash and scrap, nowhere near what the corpo engineers work from. They would spend half a billion chits to create a weapon to counter Nightmare, and next week he’d be back with an entirely different kit. By the end of his one-man war I heard he had eighteen different bodies. All he had to do was keep his core heavily armored and escape, then he could come back with the right gear to win. I suspect he had a lot of help on that front, one man can’t do all that work alone. Before they wiped Sanctuary he uploaded all his work to the net, it’s what all of us back alley chop shops work from.”
The image then panned to a wall full of mechanical limbs, there were arms, legs, whole torsos, and even wide array of different colored eye balls delicately displayed. All seeming to stare at the viewer, it was uncanny how lifelike they looked even outside of a body. Athena kept waiting for one to blink despite seeing how they had wires coming out the back.
The documentary then moved into a section summarizing Nightmare’s early life, from his childhood in an orphanage to his days on the streets working for a gang. All in the oldest city on Ruin, a place said to have been humanities only sanctuary after the divine war that recked their planet. Ancient buildings and stone streets were built over with monolithic towers that stretch to dizzying heights.
The film covered a brief overview of the third corporate war, a war started over an ‘asset dispute’ that left millions dead and many more grievously wounded. Nightmare being one of those wounded soldiers after being pulled from prison to fight on the front lines. The roaring plains, rumbling tanks, and thunderous rockets sent a shiver up Athena’s back. Pallimustus could produce war’s just as deadly, but it never got this bad. The last time war shook Pallimustus like this was five centuries ago. And worse was that these were all normal rankers.
In the end JDR was victorious over the Biolite corporation, not that it really meant much. The death toll and monetary toll in waging a global war was way too high. The documentary shifted to a woman standing behind the bar. She was dressed in long flowy robes with necklaces of brightly colored beads around her neck, and a third eye in the center of her forehead.
“The third Corpo showed just how expensive and inefficient traditional warfare was. In the wake of all this a new need for deniable third-party contractors was born. Now instead of armies, bombs, and tanks they could use guns for hire to disrupt shipments, steal data, or take out high-ranking executives. And thus and industry was born.”
A young girl behind the lady with three eyes scoffed, “Of course that’s not all mercs do. They take money from anyone who’s willing to pay. Gangs, criminals, terrorists. And if there’s no work to go around they make it for themselves. All without any real consequences as the law turns a blind eye to them.”
The three eyed woman turned back to glare at the child of about ten or eleven, but said nothing before turning back. “The child’s right. Mercs all seem glamorous, but don’t forget that they are criminals. Even if no one’s going to prosecute them. Nightmare was a bad man who killed lots of people before he went to war against JDR. Then again it’s not like the corpo’s noses are clean either. There’s sin and misery enough for everyone.”
Athena turned to Seras, the phrase striking her as familiar. The Outworlder’s eyes never left the three-eyed woman and the girl. “And yet you were the one to give us the work Mystra.”
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Athena turned back to the movie and her eyes went wide as a new group of people were brought into frame. They were all sitting around a table in a booth that seemed too small for them. There was a giant of a man, his considerable mass coming from hulking muscle and thick looking plating. When he spoke it was with a deep basey voice that made her chest rumble. “Glamour, glory, fuck all that noise. Only idiot bankers are out for that crap. We’re here to make money, because their ain’t no other way for people like us to rise up on this shitty world. I bet that’s what Nightmare was after at first”
Next to him, in an almost comical rendition, was a much smaller man. He looked mostly normal, brown hair, non-threatening features, and a slim build, oh and also a quarter of his head had been removed and replaced with metal plating. Where an eye should have been was a black screen with green text scrolling across it. When the man focused on the person recording all this a crude ‘eye’ made of strange blocky characters appeared. “Indeed, Nightmare worked hard and partied harder. He had a penthouse in one of Sanctuary’s mega towers.”
“Then he pissed it all away for some girl.” A cold voice said. This came from a gorgeous white-haired woman, and though she spoke from behind some sort of mouth mask her words were perfectly clear. The mouth mask itself was a cold blue color with little bars on the side that rose and fell in tune with her voice. “Fucken idiot.”
“I don’t know Frost, if it were the right woman I could see myself doing all sorts of stupid stuff.” This voice came from the woman beneath ‘Frost’.
Frost looked up and met the eyes of the woman behind her, “Blackiron, promise me you’ll never do anything as stupid as Nightmare over me. I don’t think I could rest easily if I knew you were being a dumbass.”
The woman smiled, familiar eyes crinkling at the side. She flipped her hair back and Athena got a proper look at her face. It was familiar, and yet in a thousand little different ways it looked wrong to her. It was Seras, but not the Seras she knew. Her hair and eyes were the right color, but something was subtly off about them. They looked less… real for lack of a better word. As if they were a hyper realistic drawing that was off in its coloring and texture.
She had her arms around the woman in her lap, but instead of looking normal like the current Seras’ they were obviously mechanical, black metal with little blue lines glowing around them. In one hand was a glossy black pistol, and in the other was a bottle of some fruity looking drink. “Aw come on Frost, don’t you think its romantic. Man tore down a Corp with his bare hands because they were putting out bad meds. He worked so hard to afford the medicine only for it to be poison from the start. His story would just be another sop story if he hadn’t proceeded to wreck JDR’s shit over that, now he’s the kind of legend no one’s ever gonna forget.”
Frost jerked a thumb up at Seras, “you want a hopeless fool who believes in all that glory and fame nonsense then here’s your girl. Blackiron practically worship’s Nightmare like he’s one of the dead Gods.”
Athena, Dustin, Flint and the rest of them turned to stare at the real Seras. But instead of flushing in embarrassment like she should have been she had fixed her eyes on the cold looking woman teasing her. “I forgot she would be here,” Seras muttered. She stood up, “just need a moment outside,” she said hoarsely.
They watched her go, and there was a quite moment in the room where everyone wondered if they should shut it off. But despite the oddity of it all everyone was spell bound to the projection before them. Athena stood up, “I’ll check on her, you all keep watching.”
Dustin nodded to her and Athena walked out of the room, turning back one last time to see Seras in the film lean down and kiss Frost’s forehead.
Seras was leaning on a bit of railing outside, she was fiddling with her hat as she stared into empty space.
Athena walked up and leaned against the railing, “just to get this straight, you decided that the best way to show us your world and what it means to you was to have us watch a recording where you were apart of the making. I’m not gonna lie, that’s more than a little self-centered. Like someone giving you their own biography.”
Seras glanced over, “you have biography’s here… no wait of course you do. Any good ones I should read.”
Athena shrugged, “some, the best are the ones about diamond rankers. Though most kept any of the real secrets out of their works.”
“Most?”
“Draconian blowhards love to talk about themselves, they rarely leave things out. making them both informative and disturbing.”
She huffed out a small laugh, “I’ll need to look into that.” Seras blew at her bangs, “I really should have watched it myself before showing it to you guys. Dead Gods I nearly moaned in embarrassment when I saw that shitty nylon hair implant I used to have. Really should have sprung for something better.”
They were silent for a long moment before Athena finally decided to just break the tension herself, “so you and this Frost woman were an item. I take it things didn’t end well?”
Seras grimaced, “no, not at all.”
“Is she still alive or…”
“Dead.”
Athena was quiet, waiting for Seras to open up if she was ready. But the Outworlder didn’t speak up.
“Alright, I think we’ve been gone long enough,” Seras said as she pushed off from the railing.
She was just putting her hat back on when Athena gripped her by one arm, “hey.”
The Outworlder glared back at her from under the brim of her hat, “what, I’ve got nothing more to say.”
Athena pursed her lips, but ultimately decided now wasn’t the time to press too far. “I know, just know that I’m here for when you’re ready to talk.”
She stared at Athena before she turned away, though to Athena her eyes looked wetter than usual. “Yeah, keep waiting,” she muttered.
Athena let go as Seras pulled away. She felt frustrated to be brushed off so easily, but she knew that getting the Outworlder to relax and open up was a war of attrition. Time was on her side, or so she felt.
She followed Seras back in and saw that there was another fight taking place, this one was far more devastating. Several towers had crumbled, and a small rag tag group was facing off against an army of dark clothed corporate soldiers. But for all that they were outnumbered the rag tag Mercenaries were winning. At the center of the chaotic fight was one man, he faced off against armored titan’s, swarms of gunners, and low flying metal vehicles, and nothing was working.
When it was all over only Nightmare was left standing, the image of him shook as the person taking the recording began to crawl out from their hiding spot and approached the lone Merc. “Mister Nightmare, y- you won, they’re all dead. This, this is, you beat a corporate army.” The voice was shaky and obviously incredulous of the end result.
A metal skull looked down at the recorder, it may have once looked like a human head before but not with the skin and hair had been burned back. Now all that was left was the metal frame work of a skull with unnerving glass eyes. “Won? Won? Don’t be a dumbass, I didn’t win, I’ve just forced them to a point of no return.”
“What do you mean sir?” the man behind the recorder asked.
Nightmare looked up at the sky, sparks flew from his neck as he did so. “Even in this new age of Mercenaries there exists a limit to what we can do and achieve. Even as we rise we are still little more than disposable contractors. I was promised medicine, I convinced myself that I was too useful to cheat, I was wrong. There is no moral line they wont cross for an extra chit, there’s no limit of decency they won’t violate, and there’s no cost that’s too unthinkable for them if it means maintaining control.”
A small bright flare of light appeared on the horizon, growing brighter and brighter as something massive fell from the sky. “No,” the other man whispered, “they wouldn’t, not Sanctuary. It too important, its too, too, this is humanity’s first refuge!”
The metal skull grinned, it was always grinning, but this time there was a hint of disdainful amusement in its expression. “Once upon a time maybe that was true. But they’ve already turned their attention away from this world. Our world no longer means anything to them.”
“You knew this would happen, why?”
The skull looked up at the growing red blur, it almost looked like a comet, but it lacked the telltale tail, “I knew this would happen, but I had hoped I was wrong. But they can’t allow us to take back control of our lives, they need us cowed, and rebellion spreads if left alone. At least I could deny them Sanctuary.”
“We’re doomed, all of us.”
The skull turned back down to look at the recorder, “Yes, we are. We always were. At least this death is on my terms.” The synthetic voice of the mercenary let out a long-garbled sigh, “to all those watching, I have left all my designs and discoveries spread across the net. I did it in a way that’s impossible to cover up. My weapons, my augs, and my scripts, use them however you want. But remember, to be Merc is to walk hand in hand with sin and misery, nothing behind but blood and death, nothing ahead but glory and fame.” He gestured up at the growing comet, “and this is what happens when you try to reach for more than that.”
That was the last thing they saw of the Merc Nightmare, because the person holding the recording device turned and began to sprint. It was all futile though, because the next clip they saw was of a long metal pole striking the earth and speed. Even from their new view kilometers away from the city of Sanctuary they saw the resulting chaos of devastation. A bright light engulfed their view, and then mere seconds after the flare had faded a wave of dust, molten glass and metal, and broken building hit the new recorder.
The next image they were shown was from high up, they were so high up the mountains and rivers near the city were hard to tell apart from the rest of the landscape. The resulting crater had vaporized much of the inner city where once millions of people had lived, the vast swath of less densely packed city around the crater was laid to ruin.
The narrator once again began to speak over the devastation and its consequences, but it was all white noise to Athena’s ears as her brain struggled to process what she had just seen. They all were.
It was only ten minutes later when Seras clapped her hands that they were broken out of their fugue. “Alright, now that that’s over what do you want to watch next, a romcom, comedy, maybe a kick ass actions flick?”
They stared at the chipper Outworlder in utter bewilderment. Athena searched the other woman’s face for any signs that she was just as horrified as they were but found none. It wasn’t that Seras was heartless, Athena had seen just the opposite in the Labyrinth, it was that she was completely unphased by what happened.
What had Seras said before, something about a man’s head being blown up for a commercial and desensitization? Suddenly, it made sense. But while she understood how Seras could watch this without hyperventilating that didn’t stop her from siding with everyone else when they voted on no more movies.
That night Athena had too many nightmares to sleep.
