> I gave everything to him, but he never saw me as anything but a subordinate. Instead, he gave the greatest treasure in our world to a child.

Nora Lancaster

I awoke to the sound of birds chirping, and it took me a moment to remember how dire my situation was. But once that realization set in, I couldn’t stop myself from recounting the events of the previous few days. My uncle – along with everyone in Mobile – was dead, and I was all alone in the world. Certainly, Pick had survived, but I hardly counted him. Despite the fact that he had recently saved my life, I knew he was next to useless in a fight. If I was going to survive – or more importantly, get my revenge – I would only be able to rely on myself. So, with that in mind, I navigated through my interface to bring up my status. When I did, the effects of the previous day’s efforts were on display:

NAME

Mirabelle Lisa Braddock

CLASS

MISTRUNNER

LEVEL

10 (0%)

CONSTITUTION

38/80

MIND

35/80

MIST

34/80

SKILLS

5/7

SKILL NAME

Skill Tier

Modifiers

Abilities

CYBERNETIC MASTERY

TIER 1 (0%)

· 100% Efficiency

· 6 Cybernetic Slots

COMBAT

TIER 1 (0%)

· 50% Damage (all)

· 50% Speed (Melee)

· 50% Accuracy (all)

· 25% Range (Firearms)

· 50% Reload (Firearms)

· Empowered Shot (D)

· Double Shot (E)

· Combination Punch (D)

· Pummel (E)

· Engage (E)

· Disengage (F)

· Mark Target (F)

· Barrage (F)

INFILTRATION

TIER 1 (0%)

· 15% Stealth Effectiveness

· Stealth (E)

· Camouflage (E)

· Deception (E)

· Mimic (E)

· Observation (D)

MISTRUNNING

TIER 1 (0%)

· 25% Misthack Speed

· 25% Mistwalk Speed

· 50% Mistwall Strength

· 50% Breach Range

· Mistwalk (D)

· Misthack (D)

· Mistwall (C)

· System Redirect (F)

· Disable Cybernetics (F)

· Overcharge (E)

Fieldcraft

TIER 1 (0%)

· 25% Combat Effectiveness

· Triage (D)

· Basic Explosives Handling (D)

· Combat Focus (C)

· Pain Tolerance (D)

· Resistance (E)

· Foraging (E)

· Improvisation (D)

· Regeneration (D)

OPEN

OPEN

I could scarcely count the number of ways I had improved. Not only had my modifiers seen marked gains, but I’d also opened up two new skill slots as well. That left me with an infinite number of possibilities. On top of that, all of my skills had evolved as well. I hadn’t even put any of them to the test, but I felt like a changed person.

It only took one look down at my limp hand for me to realize that some of those changes were less beneficial than others. From my Triage ability, I knew that if I didn’t find treatment soon, I would lose the appendage. It probably wouldn’t be the end of the world or anything – I could always get a cybernetic limb that would probably be an upgrade – but I hated the idea of being forced to waste one of my slots on something like that. If I was going to get cybernetics, I wanted it to be a choice, rather than a necessity. But as I had recently discovered, we don’t always get what we want.

Otherwise, my uncle and everyone else wouldn’t be dead.

With a sigh, I decided to delve into my new skill trees. First up was the generically named [Combat] that had been the result of a fusion between [Firearms] and [Close-Quarters Combat]:

Tree

Combat (Tier 1 – 0%)

50% Damage (All)

50% Accuracy (All)

25% Range (Firearms)

50% Reload Speed (Firearms)

50% Speed (Melee)

Branch

Small Arms

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Heavy Weaponry

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Melee

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Movement

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Tier 1

25% Damage

50% Damage

15% Speed

5% Movement

Tier 2

25% Range

15% Range

25% Damage

25% Jump Height

Tier 3

Ability: Explosive Shot

Ability: Shatter Shot

Ability: Riposte

Ability: Double Jump

Tier 4

25% Accuracy

50% Fire Rate

25% Accuracy

15% Movement

Tier 5

Ability: Multi-Shot

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Ability: Instant Reload

Ability: Execute

Ability: Teleport

The skill tree was a lot simpler than the ones it had replaced, but it was also a good deal stronger. Not only were the modifiers far better, but my eyes immediately went to the various abilities in the higher tiers. Some, like Teleport and Instant Reload were self-explanatory, but others were a mystery that I would have to unravel when I reached Tier-5. And considering that it had taken me the better part of three years’ worth of focused training to reach Tier-5 in the previous trees, I suspected it would take me far longer to do the same with the new skill trees. However, I liked the idea of having those abilities dangling just out of reach; they were great as distractions and even better as motivators to keep moving forward.

After looking at my [Combat] tree, I moved my focus to the next one on my list, which was [Infiltration]. It was the result of [Spycraft] and [Stealth Operations] merging into one skill, and given that they’d always had some overlap between them, I felt that it was the most predictable fusion of them all. I opened the tree:

Tree

Infiltration (Tier 1 – 0%)

15% Effectiveness (Stealth)

Branch

Spycraft

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Stealth

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Deception

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Sensory Input

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Tier 1

15% Deception Effectiveness

15% Effectiveness (Stealth Abilities)

15% Effectiveness

(Deception)

25% Observation Effectiveness

Tier 2

15% Deception Effectiveness

25% Effectiveness

(Stealth Abilities)

15% Effectiveness

(Mimic)

25% Observation Effectiveness

Tier 3

Ability: Charisma

Ability: Distraction

Ability: Bluff

Ability: Sense Deception

Tier 4

15% Charisma Effectiveness

15% Effectiveness

(Stealth Abilities)

25% Effectiveness

(Bluff)

15% Sense Deception Effectiveness

Tier 5

Ability: Interrogate

Ability: Vanish

Ability: Chameleon

Ability: True Sight

The modifiers dealt almost exclusively with enhancing my abilities with stealth and deception, but I was also very happy to see that Observation was in for quite a boost to its effectiveness. And some of the abilities looked very interesting – specifically Chameleon and Vanish. The others were a little too vague for me to get excited about.

After I’d thoroughly studied that tree, I moved on to the next, [Mistrunning].

Tree

Mistrunning (Tier 1- 0%)

25% Speed (Misthack)

25% Processing Speed (Mistwalk)

50% Strength (Mistwall)

50% Range (Breach)

Branch

Misthack

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Mistwalk

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Mistwall

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Combat

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Tier 1

15% Misthack Speed

25% Infiltration Stability

15% System Defense

5% Damage (All)

Tier 2

15% Ghost Strength

25% Processing Speed

25% System Defense

5% Damage (All)

Tier 3

Ability: Surge

Ability: Rewind

Ability: Backlash

5% Damage (All)

Tier 4

25% Ghost Stability

25% Processing Speed

C-Grade System Defense

5% Damage (All)

Tier 5

Ability: Plague

Ability: Skeleton Key

Ability: Mental Fortress

Ability: Assassinate

It was probably the most familiar of the four trees, and most of its modifiers dealt with enhancing Misthack, Mistwalk, or Mistwall. However, I was also pleased to note that it had a combat branch as well, which culminated in the Assassinate ability. It seemed that my class, which shared a name with the tree, was about far more than merely infiltrating various systems. If I’d had any doubts about my choice before, they were quickly fading away the more I looked at my new skills.

Finally, I moved on to the evolution of what I thought of as my most useful skill, [Fieldcraft], which had evolved from [Combat Utility]. I already knew that it was a unique skill that had come from my uncle’s experiences, and because of that, I treasured it even more than I had before. It was his legacy, and I one I fully intended to live up to. I examined the tree:

Tree

Fieldcraft (Tier 1 – 0%)

25% Effectiveness (Combat)

Branch

Medic

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Survival

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Communication (Tier 0 – 0%)

Utility

(Tier 0 – 0%)

Tier 1

50% Triage

25% Less Food/Water Required

Ability: Universal Language

25% Combat Focus

Tier 2

50% Recovery Speed

25% Less Sleep Required

Ability: Share Map

25% Regen-eration

Tier 3

Ability: Stabilize

Ability: Bastion

Ability: Waypoint

Ability: Ignore Injury

Tier 4

25% Effectiveness (Medication)

50% Endurance

Ability: Combat Map

25% Explosives Yield

Tier 5

Ability: Mend

Ability: Tinkering

Ability: Secure Connection

Ability: Focused Will

Like was the case with [Combat Utility], it didn’t look like a particularly flashy tree. Some of the abilities, like Stabilize, Mend, and the entirety of the Communication branch appeared downright mundane. But that assessment was based purely on their names. From experience, I knew just how deceptive that could be. I fully expected [Fieldcraft] to become even more useful than its predecessor.

Just as I looked at my two empty skill slots, I heard Pick stir. I looked over to see him grimace as he sat up. Clearly, he wasn’t used to roughing it.

“Tough night?” I asked, summoning a bottle of water from my Arsenal Implant.

He nodded as he took it from me. Then, he said, “You could say that. I don’t know how you do it.”

Pick was one of the few people who knew that I’d spent the previous few weeks away from civilization. For most, that would have been completely unconscionable, but for me, it seemed almost commonplace. Certainly, I knew that the wilderness was a dangerous place, but I was confident enough in my skills that I didn’t question my ability to survive. Of course, that had been one of the driving forces behind my uncle’s decision to train me.

For a few minutes, neither of us said anything while we broke our fast on ration bars and bottled water. However, the reality of our situation certainly hung over us like a thundercloud. We were all alone, in the wilderness, and we’d completely lost our respective support systems. It would’ve been easy to let panic overtake us, and I could tell that Pick wasn’t far off from doing just that.

“What are we going to do?” he asked.

“I’m going back to Nova,” I said. “After I kill the rest of the Enforcers in the area, of course.”

Not only were they responsible for killing everyone I knew or cared about, but my previous experiences told me that they were just bags of Mist waiting to add to my levels. If I stuck around and killed every one of them, there was every chance I might reach level eleven.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because! You can’t just…I mean…those are people!” he insisted.

“They’re enemies,” I said. “And we’re supposed to kill enemies.”

It sounded harsh, even to me, but I reasoned that was just the old Mirabelle asserting herself. The one who hadn’t just experienced loss on such a grand scale. The new me, she didn’t mind a little murder, so long as she got her revenge. In a lot of ways, that new attitude brought me closer to my uncle. He’d done much the same thing just after the Initialization, and as far as I knew, he’d never really stopped.

Still, I knew everyone wouldn’t think like that. Pick might’ve been a familiar acquaintance, but he clearly wasn’t ready to participate in my planned revenge. So, I said, “You don’t have to help. I can do this on my own.”

“What about your hand?” he asked.

I looked down at the useless appendage. The tendons had been completely severed, and I knew that if I didn’t get treatment soon, I’d lose it. Already, the health indicator on my HUD, which presented itself as a silhouette in varying colors, sported a dark red hand. That, as much as my Triage ability told me that I’d reached dire straits.

I shrugged. “Can’t get it fixed ‘til we get to Nova,” I said. “And I’m not going to leave and then come back. So, I need to kill these assholes before I head to the city.”

It was a simple, logical solution, but I knew there were plenty of risks involved. Not only would I run the risk of death or discovery as I waged my war against the Enforcers still in the area, but the longer I put off getting my hand fixed, the worse it was going to be. Still, I didn’t care. I’d already killed almost a hundred of the Enforcers, but I still felt like the job was only half finished. I was, in a word, unsatisfied.

I glanced back at Pick, who was looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “Where do you live, anyway?” I asked. I didn’t really intend to help him get back to wherever he’d come from, but it seemed like a pertinent question.

He looked away. “Me and Remy, we lived in the Jitterbug,” he said. “Usually, we’d stay in a town or something, but that was the only place that ever felt like home.”

“What happened to it?” I asked.

“They blew it up,” he said. “Just before the bombardment started. Remy and me, we were fixing some of the damage from when that condor attacked, and…they were on us before either of us knew what was going on. I tried sending a distress signal, but they took us before I could get to the comms. I think that’s the only reason we survived when everyone else died. They got us before the attack, took us back to their temporary base. After that, they bombed the hell out of Mobile. I’ve never seen anything like it. I knew the moment those cannons started going off that nobody was going to survive.”

“When did they get my uncle?” I asked.

He looked away, and I could see the moisture in his eyes. “He was hurt bad,” Pick said. “One of his arms was just gone, and his leg didn’t work. But he came at them, then. I couldn’t even follow what was going on. He killed a hundred of them. Maybe more. But then…then they caught him with some kind of trap. Even after that, he didn’t go down until they’d hacked him to pieces. And the last I saw of him before they took Remy and me down to the basement of that building was him…his…head on that pike. He was still alive. I know, ‘cause he followed me with his eyes. I don’t know when he finally died, but we were down there for almost two weeks before you came.”

“And Remy? How did he die?” I asked.

“T-they tortured us,” he said. “They wanted to know about some fancy Nexus Implant. I didn’t know what they were talking about, but they didn’t care. Remy, he wasn’t…up for the torture. One day, when they threw him in there with me, h-he…he didn’t get back up. He just didn’t get back up.”

“Pick, listen…”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, looking up. He had a shell-shocked look about him. “Just Patrick, now.”

I understood the sentiment. Pick – or Pickle – had been the name of a child, and after what he’d just been through, he didn’t really qualify for that designation anymore. I hated that he’d lost his innocence, and my heart went out to him, but there wasn’t much room in my head for anything but vengeance. So, I just nodded, saying, “Fair enough, Patrick. Do you want to come with me when I head to Nova?”

He shrugged. “Where else am I supposed to go?” he asked.

Where, indeed?

Like me, he didn’t really have a home anymore. But unlike me, he didn’t have the tools or the skills to survive on his own. I would help him, so long as it didn’t derail my mission, but the moment he slowed me down too much, I’d have to cut him loose. I couldn’t allow myself to worry about anything but the path before me. If I concerned myself with his well-being, I wouldn’t see the dangers ahead.

“Alright, then,” I said. “Like I said before, I’m going to spend the next day or so hunting Enforcers. After that, we’ll head toward Nova. In the meantime, try to think about what you want to do.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You’re a pilot with no ship,” I said, taking a bite of my ration bar. “Seems to throw a bit of a monkey wrench into your future plans, I would think. So, what’s your plan for when we get to Nova? You mentioned a [Cybernetic Engineer] skill, right? Did you get it?”

He nodded. “Soon as we got back, the Wraith…Jeremiah, he gave it to me,” Patrick answered. “But I don’t know how to train it.”

“We’ll worry about that when we get to Nova,” I said. “Apprentice you to someone in the Garden or something. I’m sure they’ll trip all over themselves to get someone with the actual skill.”

I knew that many of the cybernetic engineers in Nova City had related skills, like [Medicine] or [Cybernetic Repair], but few could live up to their titles via an actual skill. In a lot of ways, it reminded me of my own class choice. In the city, most warriors were known as Operators, and I knew based on the requirements that few would have qualified for the actual class. The same went for my own class, {Mistrunner}; as far as I knew, there were only a handful of people in the whole world who had the skill slots to meet the requirements, much less the very specific skills to do so. I felt almost certain that I was, if not unique, then at least very rare.

But first, we needed to get back to Nova City.

Before that, though, I had some hunting to do. So, after letting the conversation peter out, I spent quite some time checking my equipment. I was beginning to run low on ammunition – especially for my rifle – but I felt like I would have enough to see me through. I’d never want to tackle a Rift so poorly equipped, but it would be enough to take care of a few Enforcers.

However, the real issues were with all my other supplies. My medical kit had been decimated, and aside from some antiseptic swabs and bandages, it was almost completely empty. By contrast, my food situation was decent, and I had enough ration bars to last for at least a few more weeks. Water was a little scarcer, but now that I was in familiar territory, gathering more shouldn’t prove to be much an issue.

Looming large in my Arsenal Implant were the Rift Shards, though. There were almost a hundred of the smallest variety, twenty-five or so of the mid-sized ones, and, of course, the large one. I had no real notion of what any of it was worth, but my uncle had intimated that they were exceedingly valuable. Once I got to Nova and headed to the bazaar, I hoped that I could turn my spoils into enough capital to wage my war on Nora and whoever else had been responsible for the decimation of Mobile.

For the next hour or so, I went through the equipment I’d pilfered from the Enforcers I’d already killed, and I was happy to find that some of the ammunition would work for my Kicker. It wasn’t the high-quality rounds I was used to, but they would do in a pinch – especially with all the extra modifiers I had gained.

None of the other stuff I found was very useful, so I left it piled in the corner. That’s when Patrick stepped up, asking, “Is that stuff valuable?”

I shrugged. “Maybe? It’s not worthless,” I said. “But I don’t have room for all of it in my Arsenal Implant.”

“Do you want me to carry it?” he asked.

“Uh…like, in a backpack or something?” I asked. Then, I remembered that he’d summoned an information chip back in the basement where I’d found him, which hinted that he had access to something like an Arsenal Implant himself.

He said, “I have a Cargo Implant. It’s part of my skill.”

“The [Pilot] skill?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Or was it from something else?”

“Um…I don’t really have a [Pilot] skill, exactly,” he said. “More of a [Smuggler] skill, you know?”

“And the third skill?” I asked. I already knew he was Tier-3, so with [Smuggler] and [Cybernetic Engineer], he had to have one other skill.

“It’s called [Gunfighter],” he said, looking a little embarrassed. “Most of it’s pistol stuff, but there’s some…uh…other abilities that go with it. I haven’t had much chance to work on it, though, because it’s new.”

That explained how he’d managed to stagger the Banshee leader. He must’ve had a few modifiers that, while he wasn’t nearly powerful enough to actually kill her, he’d had enough oomph behind his shots to stun her. That, in turn, had allowed me to use Empowered Shot to end the threat.

“Good,” I said. “You’re going to need it. But to answer your question, sure. I don’t know how much you can hold, but take as much as you can. While I’m gone, try not to get in trouble, yeah?”

“O-okay…”

Clearly, he didn’t like the idea of being left alone, but he didn’t want to go into battle, either. So, I said, “And Patrick? Thanks. You saved my life, and I won’t forget that anytime soon.”

It was as much to bolster his confidence as it was to express my gratitude. Either way, what followed was an awkward silence, and I couldn’t get out of that ruined church quickly enough.

And so, the hunt began.