Revergence
a Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance x Fate / Grand Order crossover
by fallacies
Jack was no longer willing to fight in the war. The War, however, wasn't so indulgent as to merely let him be.
oo. Prologue I: The War Without End
oo. Prologue II: London, 1888
o1. Moksha Patam
o2. ???
o3. ???
o4. ???
o5. ???
Ex. Appendix: ???
o6. ???
o7. ???
o8. ???
o9. ???
1o. ???
11. ???
12. Epilogue: ???
Ex. Vergence: Cipher, 1997
Notes:
This is to be a sequence of short scenes, largely humorous, no matter how they might initially seem.
Have fun!
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revergence (re - ver ' jens), n. [< LL. revergen(t-)s, ppr. of revergere, incline toward, < L. re-, back, + vergere, bend, incline: see verge.] A tending toward a certain character. [Rare.] "The evernioid revergence of this subdivision is observable also in Parmelia perforata." -- E.Tuckerman, Genera Lichenum, p.22.
-- The Century Dictionary and Cyclopedia (1889), Volume V, Part XVII, Page 5316.
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oo. Prologue I: The War Without End
The X-Liner series of Unmanned Gears operated always in units of seven: King, Queen, Bishop, Knight, Rook, Pawn, and Beast. Designed by the Harraway Foundation in the image of chess pieces, they were angular, minimalist figures of silver platinum, slightly larger in stature than an adult human -- and far more difficult to damage or incapacitate than typical cyborg infantry.
They were, as well, severely flawed in the security of their control system. Within a month of the mass production types' deployment to the war-front, the enemy had developed a means of exploiting their defect -- physically connecting to the exposed ports in the UG's cyberbrain via monofilament, and subverting the AI. The turn of the tide had cost the European Federation a number of key territorial holdings; and now, half a year on, the X-Liners had come to substitute much of the enemy's ground forces.
The times were changing.
Maybe, Raiden imagined -- blocking just barely the blade of the King -- Snake had come upon this same apprehension in his final years. It was growingly obvious that his sword had at some point become unnecessary; obsolete. No matter how many monsters he cut down, there was no termination to the conflict; no goal or conclusion in sight, and hence no purpose to strive for. All that existed was a status quo -- and himself as a machine, stuck in an endless loop.
War itself had become monotonous. More than trauma -- more than the sheer scale of the human suffering that was still ongoing -- what had overcome Raiden in his years of fighting was a fatigue that vanished only when Jack was permitted to take the reins.
That wouldn't be happening again -- at least, not in this lifetime.
[You've gotten the girl to safety, Wolf?] he asked, voicelessly over Codec.
[We are situated on a cliff-top one hundred and fifty-eight meters due east of your position,] came the reply. [The client has insisted on observing your fight.]
Raiden cursed, evading the thrust of the Rook's spear, and somersaulting over its frame. Activating Blade Reflex in a two hundred millisecond burst, he directed his sword through the UG's head. The cut was unexpectedly shallow, splitting only the semi-monocoque shell; a high-density ceramic casing shielded the cyberbrain within.
Before he could commit himself to another attack, the Rook revolved -- moving at what appeared to be normal speed, despite the acceleration of Raiden's subjective time perception. With the bladed tip of its polearm, it plunged through the armored plating on Raiden's chest -- piercing his Molten Carbonate Fuel Cell.
Carried by momentum, Raiden touched down upon the perpendicular surface of a wall, immediately bounding again to the rooftop across the street before falling to a knee.
[Just get her outta here, even if she resists,] he said, grimacing at the noticeable drain to his FC charge. [I'll catch up with you later.]
[... it has been five years, seventy-two days, and eighteen hours since you last issued me an order,] said Wolf. [What are you thinking, Raiden?]
On the platform to Raiden's rear, there were seven metallic impacts. Sighing, he stood, lifting his High-Frequency Long Sword.
[I'm thinking,] he replied, [that I'm not gonna be able to cut loose if I hafta concern myself with the girl's safety.] He turned his head, directing his right eye at approaching the UGs.
"Blade Overdrive," he intoned aloud. "Activate."
-
His systems were functional enough to boot him out of unconsciousness on identifying the approach of footsteps.
Opening his eyes, he found his vision filled with digital artifacts, and his remaining FC charge at 3.64% and dropping. The client -- a young Asian woman clad in a glaring crimson coat -- stood only a few meters away, accompanied by Blade Wolf amidst the fragmented remains of the X-Liners that had scattered the ruined square. She hadn't exhibited any signs of cyborgization under prior scrutiny, but the faint red glow from her eyes in the dimness of the twilight was probably indicative of nanomachines.
"I thought I told you to leave," he said.
"You did," she replied, expression impassive. "However, the client's requests should always be given priority."
Blade Wolf stepped closer to the wall that Raiden had propped his torso against.
[The actions you have elected to undertake are tantamount to self-elimination,] he stated. [Was this outcome necessary?]
"I wouldn't have been able to run, even if I tried," Raiden answered. "And if I hadn't stayed, they would've captured all three of us."
This was true, technically. Contrary to pre-mission intel, the ground-speed of the Third Generation X-Liners significantly exceeded Raiden's own mobility outside of Blade Overdrive, and beat out the performance of Wolf's equipped reconnaissance chassis by a fair margin. The moment the enemy had obtained their position, in other words, escape had ceased to be an option. Raiden could've only chosen to stand and fight -- even in the knowledge that the nano-repair paste utilized by the Third-Gens was incompatible with his body.
His response to Blade Wolf was incomplete, however. The motives that he'd carried into battle were nothing so straightforward as a desire merely to protect.
"Just get going before the reinforcements arrive," he said. "The Frontline along the Helmand Caliphate's only fifty kilometers away. That four-wheel drive we picked up should have more than enough fuel to get you outta the No-Fly Zone."
[And how do you intend to extract yourself?]
"I'll figure something out," said Raiden. "And if I don't, you already know what to do."
Blade Wolf bowed his head downwards.
[Your words betray you, Raiden,] he said. [However, it seems that you have made your decision.] He turned, strutting away toward the vehicle in the distance. [I will begin to make preparations.]
When the UG had departed the range of human hearing, the client broke her silence.
"You agreed to escort me from Port Victoria to Kabul," she said, "straight through enemy territory, despite the likelihood that we'd encounter Third-Gen patrol units. Why?"
"As you said, the customer's always right."
The girl shook her head.
"I don't think so," she said. "I think you were looking for an excuse. What you wanted was dignity."
Raiden couldn't muster the energy to glare; his battery had fallen to 3.18%.
"With all due respect, Ms. Zelretch," he said, "my reasons are my own."
"No Ms.," the girl replied. "Just Zelretch. This body's only a terminal, and I don't identify to a particular gender." She crossed her arms beneath her chest and turned to her side, slowly pacing. "Yes, your choices are your own, and I'm not here to criticize you -- but this conversation was my motive for hiring you in the first place."
A 'terminal?' Even though her body registered at over 99% flesh?
"You're an AI or something?" asked Raiden, unable to keep the hostile rasp from his voice. "You set me up for this?
"For convenience, I suppose you can consider me something like an AI," said Zelretch. "But no, I didn't plan for anything to happen. I merely offered you a job that you wouldn't turn down, with consequences that fell within a certain margin of probability. Everything else, you arranged on your own." She paused, tilting her head. "After all, if you could choose the circumstances of your death, it would inevitably be with your blade drawn, defending your ideals."
Raiden's grip tightened about the hilt of his shattered HF weapon.
"As it happens, I know a few things about the realization of ideals," Zelretch continued -- raising a finger. "First, context is necessary -- because you can't have a hero without a dragon." She raised another. "Second, there must be a means of asserting a conclusion -- because a hero without a sword is just another man."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that we're having this conversation because you're in need of a sword -- and because this isn't your dragon."
The girl leaned forward, meeting his gaze with glowing crimson.
"It isn't over yet, Jack," she said. "You still have a War to fight."
---
Notes:
Other than to place Zelretch in a position to converse, this story does not involve the use of the Kaleidoscope. Furthermore, no events are explicitly mediated by Zelretch's agency.