039: Confused Memories

Loess and drought-resistant plants met the eye, and massive, numbered pipes looked like veins emerging from the earth. The industrial zones and towering skyscrapers had become distant, lurking in the gray sky and fading into the backdrop alongside the receding holographic advertisements.

Three black transports—what John’s former employer used to call "Flat-head Toasts"—stood in position. These things were equipped with tactical-grade alloy armor that ordinary firepower couldn't hope to pierce, fitted with widened blast-proof tires and a suite of expensive systems, capable of deploying a fully armed squad at a moment's notice. The three vehicles formed a triangle, pinning the target car in the center.

John was wondering how they could possibly intercept them when a tremendous roar echoed from behind.

"Fuck, you guys bring anti-tank missiles to work?"

He gripped the steering wheel and activated his visual assist system; the glass remained unaffected by the missile's exhaust and smoke. Aiden, his expression calm, began directing the battle as if such equipment were merely standard corporate issue. Haven Company had no qualms about dealing with Gaia Cell. They stopped the target dead in its tracks with a missile strike, firing two in quick succession, followed by a drone carrying an EMP bomb to trigger a detonation.

John watched as the enemy convoy fell into instant chaos. All three Flat-head Toasts lost control, crashing into mounds of loess and rock before grinding to a halt, while the target vehicle they were protecting flipped over the guardrail and plunged down the embankment.

Haven Company stopped only when they were close enough. Aiden’s team was well-trained and operated with a militarized discipline: reconnaissance drones hovered overhead, their high-spec scanners assisting hackers in breaching enemy systems. If they encountered a sniper or a high-threat target, the drones could dive in with payloads attached to detonate on impact.

John braced his rifle against a boulder. From his side, he could see only dirt and withered grass; apart from the vehicles, no targets were visible.

[Scan results transmitted/received.]

As the hacker pushed the data through, the view before John transformed. It was as if a scanning filter had been applied; the color contrast sharpened, inverted triangles floated over the enemies' heads, and red data streams outlined every silhouette on the other side. Information was the foundation of high-efficiency firepower and minimized casualties.

Aiden’s team even included a professional sniper. Equipped with a technical rifle and high-penetration electromagnetic rounds, he could turn any head that popped up into a spray of gore from hundreds of meters away. John thought he was holding his own, though compared to him, Alona’s recoil-less heavy sniper rifle was far more impressive.

Suddenly, Tin Foil spoke over the comms. "Target is moving. Syncing video feed."

A signal popped up in John’s vision; he confirmed receipt, and a playback window appeared in the top-left corner. The footage showed the bottom of the slope, where someone was struggling to crawl out of the burning car. The camera zoomed in, focusing and initiating a scan.

"Target confirmed. He has the metal case. This is the guy Plato has a bounty on."

"Gaia Cell's lackeys are in the way. Can we bypass them?"

"A breakthrough will take time. They’ve hunkered down, and there are signs they’re calling for reinforcements. We need to speed this up, or we’ll have to pull out!"

"Driver, go get that package."

[Mission Objective Updated]
[Retrieve the stolen metal case. (Incomplete)]
[Bring back Jeffrey. (Optional)]

John received the objective instantly. Leaving the frontal confrontation to the other team members, he turned back to his vehicle, slammed on the gas, and sped toward the crash site. Bullets poured around his vehicle. Aiden’s voice crackled over the comms, directing suppressive fire to take the heat off John.

*Screech.*

The armored vehicle came to an abrupt halt at the edge of the slope. John threw open the door and leapt into the deep ravine. Withered grass and debris scraped against him as bullets whistled overhead.

"I'm here."

"There's someone behind the car," a voice warned in his earpiece.

The moment John raised his rifle, a heavily armored brute rose from behind the overturned hood. Clad in tactical plating with a black mask and integrated goggles, he was a professional combatant.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Black and red blood sprayed out, brain matter caught in the mesh of his mask, and the corpse twitched as it fell backward.

"Fuck!" John was grateful he’d pre-aimed. The guy was a professional soldier with lightning-fast reflexes and top-tier gear; if he hadn’t landed that headshot, he would certainly be wounded.

[△17/80]

John huddled in cover, discarded the half-empty magazine, and drew a fresh one from his belt for peace of mind. He hunched over and pressed forward.

"Holy shit, they're all going for the target! Pushing forward!"

"John, get it done! These idiots are coming for you, and we’re charging in, too."

"If you can't push, just stay hunkered down behind cover."

The comms were filled with noise. Bullets were already tearing into the ravine. John had no choice; he sprinted to the back of the car and found a man in a suit, trembling as he clutched a metal case.

[Name: Jeffrey]
[Affiliation: Iron Bond Logistics (Resigned)]
[Description: Resident database deleted, social security records deleted, experimental volunteer for unknown project (Plato subsidiary archives).]

"WTF? Little Jeff?" John’s eyes widened.

The guy was his former colleague—someone he’d worked with in the same transport unit. A flood of images flashed through his mind: gambling at the bar, sneaking backup parts while servicing vehicles, cracking dirty jokes on the driver’s channel... The memories overlapped with the man shivering before him.

Jeffrey’s pupils constricted. His lips trembled as he looked at John with a confused expression. "You... you know me, don't you?"

"Fuck, are you kidding me?"

"I... I don't remember you, and that's right. Damn it, you *do* remember me, right? Fuck, they’re liars, it’s all fake, the items must be preserved... I saw it!"

"What’s going on? What happened to you?" John tried to calm him down, but Jeffrey was on the verge of a mental breakdown. His face was more haggard than a street-dwelling junkie's; he was clearly beyond answering questions.

John decided to drag him back. But as he poked his head out, dense gunfire erupted nearby, accompanied by the rhythmic ticking of a countdown and the sound of metal objects rolling closer.

John hauled Jeffrey up and dove forward. The overturned car exploded; a wave of fire swept past the stones, the sheer force of the blast making John’s stomach churn. His vision blurred.

Gaia Cell soldiers appeared on the ridge. John went to raise his rifle, but before he could pull the trigger, the soldier’s head was blown open, and he collapsed. Jeffrey crawled over, clutching the metal case, and patted John’s face.

"You know me, right? Damn it, I... I don't remember you, but that’s actually correct. Listen, they’re tampering with..."

Before he could finish, his head exploded. Bullets tore through Jeffrey, turning him into a sieve, the fire continuing to rake over his corpse.

In that instant, John realized something.

Gaia Cell hadn’t come to extract him... they had come to silence him.

The metal case rolled onto the ground. The Plato logo was stained with blood.