/~Contrario~/
The hiss of steam and the echo of clanking metal filled the air around me as I walked away from Axel. Noix Forge was alive and burning, breathing, groaning with heat and history. Sparks rained from high above where molten alloys were being cast into weapons and armor for clans preparing for the tournament. But I wasn't here for gear. I was here for something deeper.
This was my act of desperation.
I stood hunched over the forge bench, my bag already ripped open and its contents scattered across the scorched table. My fingers wrapped tightly around the red Core that was shimmering, pulsing like a living thing. It throbbed in my palm with a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
Stray hovered beside me in standby mode, humming quietly. I opened the diagnostics link in my HUD.
"Stray," I muttered. "What's the current core status?"
A flicker of static, then Stray's voice crackled to life in my ear.
"Primary Core: Type-C Energy Nexus. Efficiency: 67%. Stability: Moderate. Memory Bandwidth: High. Integrity: 83%. Synchronization with pilot: 89%."
"Could you..." I hesitated. "Do you still think you can handle another core integration?"
There was a long pause.
"No."
"No?"
"I've been doing some research all this time. Additional integration will destabilize my neural grid. Chance of critical failure: 76%. That's just 7% away from my Core integrity."
I bit my lip and paced around the table, staring down at the red core.
"But this….this is just a rare core," I whispered. "Not even epic. We've taken on worse."
"This is an unnecessary risk."
"I'm tired, Stray," I snapped, the words sharper than I intended. "Tired of being behind. Tired of being underestimated. I need this. We need this."
For what felt like eternity, there was no response.
I took that as reluctant silence.
I powered up the integration console and brought Stray into full form mode, locking his skeletal torso into the harness. The red core hummed in my hand, already reacting to his presence.
"Here we go."
I slotted the core into the secondary housing near his chest plate and activated the sync module.
The atmosphere in the room shifted immediately.
Energy surged around him.
For a moment, the red core flickered with promise. Then it rejected the connection outright.
Sparks burst from the socket, and the housing sizzled with an angry hiss. I yanked the core free before it could explode.
"Core rejected," Stray said, his voice warped and strained. "Interface incompatibility."
"Damn it."
I powered him down and unlocked the torso clamp. The damage wasn't fatal, but it was deep. His housing structure couldn't handle the strain. Not as he was anyway.
"Alright," I whispered, dragging my bag closer. "Let's rip you open."
I peeled off Stray's outer chassis, plate by plate, exposing the inner mechanisms like opening a rib cage. His frame whined under my fingers as I removed fractured joints and rerouted pathways. I reached into my bag and pulled out what I needed....the salvaged gear plates from the last warzone, Vex-class reinforcement mesh, and arc-flow nodes from a fallen Nova mech.
I worked quickly but carefully, my fingers dancing through circuits, bolts, and synth-bone. I reinforced his arms, braced his core with heavier insulation, and wove the mesh into his spine. It wasn't pretty, but it was strong.
Once done, I stepped back, panting, oil streaked across my gloves.
"You're gonna hate me for this."
Stray flickered back online.
"You should not attempt another merge."
"At this point, I'm sorry but I'm not asking." I stepped forward and slotted the red core again. "I'm begging you to survive this. Just one more time."
Stray trembled, his internal systems stuttering from tension.
"This could—"
"I won't let you die," I whispered. "Not after everything."
Then, before he could protest further, I hit the override command.
His systems screamed.
The red core surged like a heart being shocked to life. The integration began.
Electric pulses rippled through the forge. His limbs jerked in the clamps, his voice glitched in broken phrases.
"Con...tra...rio...STOP….."
"I'm sorry," I muttered, choking back my own panic. "I'm sorry. Just hold on."
He screamed.
And I knocked him out.
I hit the direct stun node at the base of his spine, deactivating his higher functions in a flash of white sparks. His head slumped forward, quiet at last.
My hands were shaking, but I wasn't done. I locked the core again and initiated the final merge.
This time....it held.
The core fused into his spine socket, glowing red-hot. His chassis accepted it slowly, light veins forming across his body as if it were breathing fire into him. The red light flickered, pulsed, and then...
Nothing.
Stray didn't reboot.
"Stray?" I tapped his temple. "Stray, talk to me."
No response.
I ran a neural diagnostic.
Status: Suspended Animation.
Core Fusion: 89%—Stalled.
Consciousness Drift: Memory Core Zone.
I slumped back in the chair, sweat pouring down my face.
"You're in there," I whispered. "I know you are."
And as the forge hissed around me, I watched the slow pulse of the red light in his chest.
Waiting.
Hoping.
—------------------
The city lights of Nova burned high and proud against the darkening sky, neon veins snaking across towers like artificial constellations. Axel's boots hit the obsidian-tiled floor of his high-rise base with firm, measured steps. He barely had time to swipe the door shut behind him before Kyra emerged from the adjacent chamber with her arms folded, her expression unreadable but her tone sharp.
"You said you couldn't recruit him?" Her eyes searched his face, demanding answers. "What the hell does that mean, Axel? Is one man now too much for you to handle? Not just any man, Contrario the NPC brother!"
Axel paused mid-step, then let out a short laugh and kept walking toward the weapons bench to unload the equipment from his shoulder strap. He tossed a silver-bolted rifle aside like it was a toy and turned toward her with a grin that barely reached his eyes.
"He'll come to us."
Kyra's eyes narrowed. "That's not an answer, Axel. Did you or did you not go to him with the assassination offer?"
"I did, Kyra, now would you stop talking to me like I'm a two-year-old? What is it with your sudden obsession with him anyway?" He asked as he took off his shoulder pad
"That's not your business, Axel"
"If that's the case, the answer I gave earlier? It's the only one you're getting," Axel said coldly, pouring himself a drink from the dispenser in the corner. The amber liquid hissed into the glass as he leaned back against the edge of the counter, swirling it lazily.
"Contrario's the type who doesn't move unless he's angry, desperate or has something to gain… or all these factors combined, in fact. Right now? He's getting there."
She clenched her fists. "I asked you to handle this....just one thing for me, Axel!"
"And I did," Axel replied, taking a slow sip. "I just didn't handle it your way."
Before she could press further, his communicator lit up with several notifications. Axel's grin returned, wider this time.
"Everything's slowly falling into place."
—------------------------
Far below the glamour and synthetic polish of Nova City, the underbelly stirred. Beneath layers of broken infrastructure and rusted maintenance tunnels, the air felt heavier because it was laced with oil, smog, and the kind of secrets that never made it to public feeds.
Five mysterious figures emerged one by one into the dimly lit ruin of what used to be an old fusion plant. Their movements were deliberate, their armour patched but functional, their identities obscured beneath cloaks, visors, and half-masks.
They didn't speak. Not because they couldn't or they had nothing to say. They just didn't need to.
The HUDs in their helmets all pulsed at once, an encrypted red ping, subtle and unmistakable. A beacon encoded with a signature they hadn't seen in a long time.
From the shadows, their leader stepped forward. He was a tall silhouette in matte-black gear, a single crimson line trailing down the center of their helm like a scar. He walked past them, his boots echoing softly against cracked metal panels, and stood before a glowing terminal long thought deactivated.
"It's him," the voice rasped, low and steady. "After all these years....he's finally calling us in."
The tallest among them leaned forward, gauntleted fingers tapping against a table. "You're sure it's the original tag?"
"Yes," the leader replied. "Encrypted signature hasn't changed. Not even once."
Another figure leaned against the wall, arms folded. "Didn't think we'd ever hear from him again after what happened in the Blackfield Siege."
The shortest of the group snorted. "I don't care what happened. If he's calling, I'm answering. He saved my life. More than once."
The fifth, a heavily built player with cybernetic arms, growled softly. "What's the play? Kill order?"
The leader's helmet tilted slightly, as if calculating.
"We're not asking questions," he said. "We owe him. That's the deal. That was always the deal."
A pause stretched between them.
Then, one by one, they stood.
No names. No rank.
Just the promise of a debt that demanded payment.
The leader turned to the side entrance, where an elevator platform was already rising through the floor. "Prep loadouts. No insignia, no colors. We disappear before first light."
"And if someone tries to stop us?" the one with cybernetic arms asked.
The leader's voice dropped to a cold whisper. "They won't."
The elevator platform locked into place with a clunk, and the group of five stepped on. As it sank into the shadows, the chamber dimmed once more.