Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Third World War was a complete clusterfuck that shaped the world into what it was today – Large swaths of uninhabited land filled with ELIDs, ruined economies, and mentally (and physically) scarred veterans. Governments were doing their ‘best’ running damage control and trying to restore power but there was a reason mercenaries like him were becoming more common. 

No matter what the various governments of the world claimed, manpower was hard to come by. 

Thus it made relative sense that an old soldier like him was now in Neo-Soviet Union territory, following a crazy ass T-Doll masquerading as a semi-competent squad lead. 

Supposedly, the T-Doll was some hotshot veteran mercenary (one of the first that heralded this new era of mercenaries according to said T-Doll) who fought alongside the Americans for a bit during the war. However, unlike the other notable mercenaries, Gordo never heard of him before. Neither did the rest of his squadmates.

The T-Doll got the general idea of those insane mercenaries right at least. The doll was a money-crazy bastard, hence why he essentially sold off the squad including himself to Branch. He wanted the entry package to repair his ‘main chassis’. 

The silver lining was that Gordo was also now making a lot of money. Enough to send the extra funds to his family back in what remained of the Americas, enough for them to live comfortably, so Gordo shut down whatever complaints he himself may have had and kept fighting.

And well, it helped that their squad lead also listened to some of their second-in-command’s suggestions. Otherwise, the entire squad would’ve probably died before Branch took them in. 

Still, that meant he was in the middle of Poland, picking off random bandits to make a living. 

Not the worst way to earn cash, he’d freely admit. But not comfortable either.

“Goddamnit, are you freezing your ass off too Gordo?”

Gordo sighed, still scanning the forest for any signs of rogue bandits through his rifle’s scope.

“Kirk, you’re the one in BAWS heavy armor. I’m the one in BAWS Frontiersman-Series kit and a bulletproof vest, which mind you, doesn’t provide much protection compared to your heavy armor.” Gordo pointed out as he spotted a patrol walking around and bickering with each other. His finger instinctively inched toward the trigger but he held himself back. These guys weren’t led by former military, just a few random civilians who decided to go bandit. “You should be sweating your ass off in there. It’s made out of metal and hydraulics. If I can deal with the weather, you can.”

“It’s SWAT gear, not–” Whatever Kirk was about to say was cut off, “Fuck. Switch to command channel.” The two of them did so with a quiet click, “Additional movement spotted. Bearing… Northwest.” Kirk reported, “Looks like an additional squad. Checking data. Contract doesn’t mention them. They have better equipment than the rest of the bandits, looks a bit professional. Potentially mercs or corporate. We moving in before they reach the compound, over?”

Better equipment was an understatement. There was a difference between running around with Second World War era weapons and the more modern equipment the new squad had. Typical bandits, even in the age of independent mercenaries, tended to field semi-automatic rifles like SVT-38s or M1 Garands with the occasional AK-47 for more organized groups. 

Technically, they could field more modern armaments if not for the fact that maintenance was frankly a bitch. 

Yes, there were bandits, raider groups, and guerrilla movements that fielded high-maintenance vehicles like IFVs and MTs but those groups tended to be the exception rather than the norm. And most people didn’t know how to strip and clean an M4, properly at least.

The new squad approaching the bandit outpost wasn’t part of any local force, definitely not from the Soviet Garrison but not from the Liberation Front Militia either after all the LFM were the ones who hired them.

The pair waited for their orders. “Negative. Orders are to maintain overwatch. Do not open fire on the main force.” Their second-in-command within the squad’s local tactical operations center promptly informed them, “Our client wants our team to lay low. Remember, we’re here to act as reconnaissance, not as counter raiders.”

Gordo sighed as Kirk continued, “Respectfully lieutenant, we’ve got an opportunity right now.”

“Sorry, First Lieutenant, we’ll remain on overwatch. Kirk, switch off to channel four.” Gordo ordered abruptly. Kirk made to protest but at that point the First Lieutenant overseeing their current operation, First Lieutenant Adam Graham, had begun to check on a different squad.

“Kirk. What the fuck was that?” Gordo asked.

“What do you mean? We’ve been sitting here for hour–”

“I know we’ve been sitting here for hours.” Gordo snapped, “I’m asking why you keep asking to move in?”

Kirk sputtered before hissing, “Gordo, they’re bandits! We’ve got Beth and Ghimel surrounding them, they’re underequipped and poorly trained!” 

“Three teams total. There are fifteen of us and over a hundred of them. We’re outnumbered fifteen-to-one.” Gordo explained slowly as if talking to a dim child, “That means, each of us have to eliminate fifteen bandits, in their territory where they’ve been living for the last year or so.”

“All it takes is one lucky hit to kill someone. A few lucky shots and we’ll have lost an entire team. You may be in BAWS heavy armor but is everyone else?”

“Additionally, we don’t have eyes inside that compound of theirs. Who knows what equipment they’ve got stored? We could walk in, take out the infantry and then suddenly get ambushed by some IFVs or God forbid a squad of MTs. There’s risks in our line of work, but we need to minimize those risks and maximize our gains. That’s how mercenaries work.” Gordo huffed, “Take too much risk, you end up like one of the idiots back in Ukraine dealing with Sangvis when they first went rogue. Dead in the middle of nowhere with no one to bury their bodies.”

Kirk fell silent as did Gordo. It was rare for Gordo to speak this much, especially on a mission. They remained like that for several agonizingly long minutes before Gordo felt the silence became too suffocating, even for him.

Gordo continued, “I get that this is what… your third mission?” He said more softly. He could hear the soft creak and whir of the servos in Kirk’s armor moving, “Figures. I can tell. You’re jumpy, you can’t stand the wait.” Gordo said, continuing to follow the bandit patrol through his scope. “But we’re mercs, Thomas. We stick to the contract and don’t deviate from the objective we’re given. Risks are good, more risk often leads to more money. But right now the risks are too great.” 

“You’ll get used to the waiting eventually,” Gordo concluded.

If Kirk wanted to respond, he didn’t get the chance to.

“LFM assets are now in play, Fireteam Aleph begin marking out priority targets for their mortars. Beth and Ghimel, activate charges and return to the rally point.”

“Guess you got your wish.” Gordo said, changing his priority from the patrol squad to one of the outpost watchtowers, “Understood lieutenant. Snipers at coordinates…” He looked down at his wrist as a virtual map popped up with important landmarks tagged.

God, why did he always get saddled with the rookies?

First Lieutenant Adam watched the battle through the holographic map projected on the table. Currently, he was in the mobile command center, named the MCC Lone Watch, owned and operated by the fourth Wing of Branch.

Within the mobile command center that was lent to their section of BRANCH, he was one of the highest-ranking officers, second only to their captain. 

The holographic map took a while to update, but with their client engaging, they were finally able to get the data from the LFM’s survey drones thereby now receiving accurate data rather than relying on manual updates from their deployed fireteams.

The sound of slow, heavy – yet at the same time careful, footsteps approached him from behind. A metallic hand grabbed his shoulder yet Adam didn’t flinch. He’d expected the new arrival.

“Captain.” Adam gave the T-Doll a brief nod of acknowledgment, “I see your repairs were finished. Does that mean the retrofitting of your main chassis are complete?” He turned his head to look at his commanding officer, his own green eyes staring at the casually dressed T-Doll.

Light cornflower blue eyes stared back without a care in the world, “Wouldn’t exactly call it a retrofit myself, just switched out a few parts.” His captain drawled. The T-Doll put his hand on his hip as he approached the holographic map.

Adam rolled his eyes. Considering everything from the weapons to the internals were changed, it was basically a retrofit for his captain’s main chassis. Only its frame remained the same.

However, Adam’s captain did change his clothing, which was odd considering how he never really cared about how he looked. Rather than the charcoal flight suit, the captain now wore the usual uniform– or the closest thing their wing had for a uniform– for off-duty mercs: A field jacket the color of aluminum with gunmetal gray lines that gave the whole thing a nice cyberpunk feel. Black cargo pants completed the look, although he lacked the wine-colored tactical vest that Adam wore. 

It was enough to be somewhat comfortable while still being viable in combat.

His captain rubbed his chin. Adam couldn’t help but stare at the rose-colored hair of his captain for a moment. Whoever designed T-Dolls should calm down. All the crazy hair colors were cool and all for civilians, but in combat, it was a bit too eye-catching. At least his captain’s odd hair color was muted. 

“How’s the battle going?” The voice of his captain shook Adam out of his thoughts.

“Considering we’ve only been hired to be spotters for the Liberation Front’s mortars and snipers, well enough. Their grunts have taken a few casualties but none have been taken out permanently from what I can tell.” Adam responded, adjusting the map to focus on the main bandit compound. The bandits were holding better than he’d expected against them but the Liberation Front forces had yet to take a proper casualty as he’d already stated.

The only current issue the militia was currently facing was that the bandits had enough foresight to prevent their advance through the use of fatal funnels, leaving the militia soldiers unable to properly advance and clear out the compound.

“Our forces aren’t in any danger nor should they be,” The lieutenant continued to report, “Mortar barrage has wrapped up and Fireteam Aleph, Beth and Ghimmel should be returning shortly.”

“Already? I thought they paid us for more.”

Adam shook his head, “Nah, just spotting and reconnaissance. Not even some sniper support.” He shrugged at the pink-haired T-Doll, “We did take this mission knowing it wasn’t going to pay well just to make sure we didn’t go in the red. We should just barely break even this month with this mission. However, if we factor in the cost of retrofitting your main chassis…” 

The T-Doll’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, already sensing where Adam was about to go, “How deep in the red are we?.”

Adam frowned.

As the two highest authorities within the fourth wing, they were the ones exposed the most to their current financial situation. And it wasn’t pretty. They were barely keeping themselves and their MCC afloat. 

Repairs and maintenance to the Lone Watch alongside the fact they had to keep their various vehicles in good shape meant that they bled a lot of money every month. Not to mention their MTs took up a large chunk of their budget too.

However, the other wings of Branch were doing just fine. Hell, even the fifth wing was doing fine financially. 

The fifth wing! The bloody gremlins of Branch were doing better than they were! 

The problem was the captain refused all long-term contracts. Anything forcing them to stay in one general location for longer than a few months was off the table. Adam knew why. It was far less risky for the captain and by extension the rest of the wing considering their captain’s origins. But, that meant a large majority of high-paying jobs were out. Hunting bounty targets were all well and good but bounties ran out eventually.

They needed higher-paying jobs. Even just a year of one or two long-term contracts would be enough to give them enough dosh to go back to their usual for a while.

“We’ve been receiving direct requests.” Adam avoided answering the question directly, motioning toward one of their computers connected to the Mercenary Support System, “Several of them contain extremely high pay. Tough jobs, high pay. It’d be nice to take one of them. Get us in the green for once.”

“Give me a direct answer.” Adam couldn’t read his superior’s expression. All he could tell was that despite the casual tone his captain was using, he was being unusually serious right now.

“Not quite ba–”

“Direct answer, lieutenant.” The captain drawled.

“We’re down by twenty million,” Adam said hesitantly.

The captain sighed, “All corporate jobs?”

“Well, yeah.” Adam blinked, “The LFM doesn’t tend to give out long-term contracts and while Branch is well-known, most governments would rather rely on more trusted merc groups or their personal troops.”

A low hum came from Adam’s captain, “Humor me for a moment. Begin filtering the requests” Adam straightened up, reaching toward the keyboard. “No longer than six months.” A few clicks came from Adam’s end. 

The captain closed his eyes, “No requests requiring us to split the wing.” More clicks.

“Minimum of one hundred and fifty million global credits for us in our entirety.” 

Adam nodded. Global credits as the name implied were able to be used worldwide. They were often worth less to an individual economy compared to the local currency but they were simply easier to use without having to worry that your payment may not be accepted in your next contract location. 

“No longer than a year.” Adam watched as the list of requests got smaller and smaller. 

“How many direct requests are we left with now?” 

Adam clicked his tongue, “Six.”

“Remove Arquebus and Balam from the list.”

Adam looked vaguely amused at that condition, “Four left.”

“Show me.” The T-Doll opened his eyes, his eyes focusing on the computer screen.

“C’mon over then, captain.” The lieutenant motioned for his superior officer to join him.

Adam waited patiently by the side. Blue eyes scanned the four requests, carefully checking each and every detail until the captain reached the fourth request, pausing as soon as he noticed exactly who requested their services.

“Alright.” His captain hummed, “I found a contract we can take. Give me some privacy for a moment, lieutenant.”

A tired feminine voice greeted him, “Hm. Surprised you called. Usually, I’d be the one trying to reach out. What are you up to?” A quiet yawn escaped her, barely audible over the visual call.

“Well, you did send my wing an offer.” He drawled, “How are the kids?”

He could still perfectly visualize the furrow of her eyebrows at his words even if he wasn’t able to see her in holographic form, “They’re doing well. They could’ve been better if one of you stayed.”

“Isn’t I5-283 still working with you?” He pointed out, leaning back in his chair. 

“He isn’t. He’s operating in Vegas right now. His contract ran out and he ‘wanted those credits baby’” The last phrase was said completely deadpan, making him chuckle. She took a sip of her coffee, “You can also call him by his name.”

He smirked, “If I do that then he’ll start thinking he’s actually as good as the rest of Branch.” 

A worn-out sigh could be heard over the call, “ENTANGLE.”

ENTANGLE lolled his head to the side slightly, “Persica. Still don’t know how to properly wear a lab coat I see. At least you’re wearing actual pants this time.”

Persica ran a hand through her messy hair and reluctantly adjusted her white labcoat so that it was properly buttoned up, hiding her vanilla blouse. The trademark cat ears on her head twitched, “And you’re stalling.” The scientist countered.

ENTANGLE huffed, “Alright. I get that you’re not happy to see me, but we still helped back then and I’m not the only one who left.”

“At least the others visit. Even NIGHTFALL and you know how busy they are.” Persica casually retorted.

Well. He had to give her that. The researcher hid her barely noticeable smirk behind her plain white mug. 

The Armored Core wouldn’t admit it out loud though, “So, that’s why you sent the contract over to me then.” It wasn’t and they both knew it, “You saw I was in the area and you needed a new AC to help augment Griffin and Kryuger forces against the threat of Sangvis.”

Persica said nothing. She just looked at ENTANGLE with those tired eyes of hers. The T-Doll could see the bags under her eyes and the way her eyes were sunken in. She really didn’t take care of herself well. He wondered how the kids took it.

Eventually, the head researcher spoke up again, “We’ll go with that.”

In a sense, ENTANGLE’s reasoning was somewhat true. The Neo-Soviets didn’t take kindly to mercenaries entering their territory with heavy armor. They preferred to keep their ACs in-house and their mercenaries weak. However, Griffin and Kryuger were slightly different. Due to their political clout, they had a bit more leeway in what they could field.

Still no Armored Cores of their own though, but they could field some HOCs and even a few government-approved heavy vehicles including some basic BAWS Muscle Tracers. 

Now, that meant that his wing would have a target on their backs as soon as they entered Neo-Soviet territory but he knew some officials that owed a few favours. Additionally, his current chassis was still good enough in combat that depending on the situation, he may not even need his AC chassis. ENTANGLE could simply keep his AC frame mothballed and set the autopilot to head to his last known coordinates if he really needed it.

“You don’t often get lost in thought like this.” Persica commented with a lazy yawn.

ENTANGLE shrugged, “It’s a new development. Things happen.”

Persica raised an eyebrow. It was barely noticeable but ENTANGLE would consider himself more observant than most Armored Cores, “The PCA?” 

Entangle didn’t outwardly react but the silence was enough.

“They’re still hunting you all.” Persica sighed, “That doesn’t mean you can’t visit.”

“I’ll think about it,” ENTANGLE stated vaguely.

For a moment, there was a hint of disappointment within the coral hues of Persica’s eyes. She really did care about those kids of hers. Perhaps not in a completely healthy way, but there was definite care for them.

The scientist was better than the alternatives at least.

“They really do miss you all you know?”

ENTANGLE snorted, “I wasn’t aware they were shooting at me. But I doubt their instructors are regarded that highly in their minds.”

Persica narrowed her eyes and placed her mug of coffee down. She’d finished it, “Stop stalling, Sulla. Are you going to accept the contract or not?”

 “I’ve not been called that in a long ti–” Persica ignored him, instead opting to refill her coffee from a nearby BAWS mass-produced coffee machine.

“Tch,” ENTANGLE admitted defeat with a slight nod. Not that Persica was looking at him, “I’ll head over. Might as well check on their progress right? I’d be a shit instructor if I didn’t make sure they actually took their lessons to heart.”

Persica craned her neck to glance at ENTANGLE, “Bit easier than I expected.” She muttered to herself as she tapped her chin in thought, making ENTANGLE’s eyes twitch. “Get here soon, ENTANGLE.”

“We’ll see if local traffic makes it easy for my wing then.” ENTANGLE drawled before shutting off the call with a soft click.

Guess he had to inform the rest of the command staff then. They were moving to 16LAB.

Chapter Text

The Lone Watch groaned as its engine flared to life. Engineers and various members of the maintenance crew assigned to the mobile command center’s darkest depths sighed in relief. It wasn’t the fact that the Lone Watch was old, it really wasn’t, but it had so many moving parts it required a large contingent of civilian staff to ensure it didn’t suffer a catastrophic breakdown.

Running the Lone Watch was like running an aircraft carrier. Most of the personnel had to help out regardless of their rank or role. Even ENTANGLE had to help, hence why he was currently in the engine room. He’d been the one to jumpstart the engine again.

“Consequences of running on salvaged PCA tech I suppose,” The T-Doll quietly sighed, taking a deep breath. 

Turning around and the T-Doll began to walk back over to the bridge of the Lone Watch. ENTANGLE’s two escorts fell into position behind their commander. They were fellow T-Dolls, though they weren’t ACs like he was. 

At least not yet, they were among the candidates within his wing. Two of ten.

The three passed by several fellow mercs who gave their commander a brief nod before continuing on their duties. Whether it was something small, such as polishing the floors to larger duties such as jotting down supplies that were running low, all kept the Lone Watch running like an old but well-oiled machine.

“Any other wing of Branch in the area?” ENTANGLE asked his escorts.

The T-Doll on his left shrugged. The one on his right glanced at the Armored Core from the corner of her eyes. He could tell that she was currently receiving information from the Dolls manning the command center by how her amber eyes glazed over for a moment.

“Negative sir. NIGHTFALL’s wing is at an unknown location.” Obviously, NIGHTFALL and their operator were very secretive about their objectives even to ASTER CROWN and UMBER OX, “ASTER CROWN and his forces are in what remains of North Africa helping out some local forces to stabilize the region while UMBER OX is performing salvage operations in China.”

“And I5-283?”

The T-Doll rolled her eyes, used to her commander’s odd mannerisms when it came to the ‘newest’ Branch AC, “In Vegas. He got hired by local American remnants still living there post-collapse against some quote-unquote ‘Roman tribals’ and ‘Power Armor wearing bitches’.”

ENTANGLE sighed, “Noted. My thanks, Trespass-1.” ENTANGLE nodded slightly.

“Of course, sir.” A small grin spread across Trespass-1's face. She brushed a lock of ashen gray hair behind her ear. 

Her partner, Trespass-2, snorted, which led to her glaring at him. 

“Bastard.”

“Dick.”

ENTANGLE had a wry grin on his face as the two began to quietly bicker, almost as if they were trying to hide that fact from him, despite knowing full well he could hear them.

The rest of their walk continued on.

“Persica.” 

“Sulla.”

The scientist and Armored core stared each other down. Their respective escorts both tensed in unison. On one side, Trespass-1 and Trespass-2, the other Super Shorty and Super-SASS. Hands gripped their guns tighter as mercenary and scientist remained silent.

The facility felt cold. Though, ENTANGLE’s sensors within this T-Doll body he was currently inhabiting told him that it was at a comfortable temperature. Cool but not too cold. Yet, not warm enough to be considered inviting by humans.

It didn’t help that 16LAB had a very corporate feel and a militaristic design to the buildings. The threat of corporate sabotage and rogue agents was always present after all.

The pair continued to stare at each other in silence, which was a bit strange for Persica, she’d have usually said something by now. ENTANGLE ignored the minute part of him saying that she was quite pissed at him for something.

And then, a black and platinum blond blur slammed into the Armored Core, not managing to knock him down in the process, but he did let out a soft grunt.

Trespass-1 and Trespass-2’s safeties flicked off but ENTANGLE raised a fist and they relaxed as did Persica’s escorts.

“ENTANGLE!”

“SOPMOD,” ENTANGLE said with a tilt of his head as the bright ball of energy hugged him, “I’m glad to see you alive and kicking. Where’s your sisters?”

“Oh! Oh! M4–“

“SOP!” A familiar brunette with a green streak in her hair rounded the corner. Her eyes went wide as soon as she spotted ENTANGLE.

“Hello there, M4A1. Doing well?” ENTANGLE greeted her, absentmindedly ruffling the hair of the platinum blonde T-doll still attached to his body like an overly affectionate dog.

It seemed as if the leader of AR Team was about to stammer something out instinctively before she took a moment, composed herself and began to speak.

“ENTANGLE. It’s been a long time since you…” M4A1 trailed off before shaking her head, “Since you last came here. And yes, I’m doing well.” The soft-spoken T-Doll smiled and ENTANGLE had to admit that there was a reason Branch agreed to help train these kids.

“A little over a year actually,” Persica chimed in, still focusing her gaze onto the Armored Core, “Are you going to dismiss those guards of yours? It’s not like you need them, ENTANGLE.” Those cat ears of hers twitched. 

The two members of Trespass Squad looked ready to interrupt but ENTANGLE motioned for them to leave. And so, with a hint of hesitation, they left. Both seemed a bit put off at the fact unknown T-Dolls seemed to be close to their commander but followed his orders nonetheless.

As they left, the two remaining members of AR Team entered. M16A1 looked as casual and relaxed as ever with a flask of alcohol strapped to her hip and a thermos of coffee in her hand. The other hand was swung around ST AR-15’s shoulders. The pink-haired T-Doll scowled but brightened up slightly once she saw ENTANGLE.

“ENTANGLE.” He swore for a moment that he could hear a mild amount of cheer in ST AR-15’s voice.

“AR-15, M16A1. Glad to see you’re all still alive.”

“Yo, glad to see you’re–Hey, you took my line.” M16A1 playfully complained, taking her arm off of ST AR-15’s shoulders. She took a swig of coffee from her thermos, “You haven’t visited in a while.”

ENTANGLE simply sighed, gently prying SOPMOD II off of him making the T-Doll whine. He could hear the blonde say something about showing him some of her projects, to which he gave a vague agreement, making her perk back up again with a loud cheer.

“Everyone’s saying that. But hey, I’m visiting now.” ENTANGLE lazily drawled. 

He could feel Persica’s disapproving stare boring into the side of his head. The Armored Core craned his neck to glance at Persica from the corner of his artificial eyes but the scientist was no longer looking at him, instead dismissing her own escorts from the scene.

ENTANGLE refocused his attention on the squad of T-Dolls beginning to crowd around him. Taking notice of their individual emblems sewn and attached to different parts of their attire and equipment.

The regal emblem attached to that large cannon that M16A1 lugged around, subtly yet proudly announcing its presence. It stood out even amongst M16A1’s ensemble of clothing. Her outfit could be called messy with her yellow button-up shirt and black skirt, but it made the emblem stand out all the more.

The aggressive emblem sewn onto the shoulder of SOPMOD’s black jacket, more obvious, more proud, but leaving room for the blonde to continue adding her own flair to the rest of the outfit. Though, that mostly came in the form of the large backpack filled with scavenged parts that SOPMOD would definitely tinker with later.

The more ominous emblem almost accusingly staring back at ENTANGLE on the hilt of ST AR-15’s knife, tucked in a holster attached to her hip. She still wore an outfit that was reminiscent of a schoolgirl’s but ENTANGLE supposed it was more tactical. The pink-haired Doll had replaced her bright jacket with a black one, instead having her usual colors be highlights rather than the main attention-seeker.

And the bright emblem signifying hope for a better future on a black bandana, having long since replaced the skull on there. The leader of AR Team quietly stood in the back of the group’s little formation. The uncertainty was still there, the green-eyed girl opening and closing her mouth whilst trying to find a good place to jump into the conversation. But, her back was straight and there was a warm smile that had ENTANGLE cataloging the image to send to NIGHTFALL’s operator later.

Wouldn’t mend bridges with the viscous woman but it would help just a tad.

A part of ENTANGLE sometimes wondered how they would turn out without Branch but they already accepted that contract years ago. A part of him hoped AR Team wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire because of them.

ENTANGLE closed his eyes for a moment.

To be honest, these girls weren’t exactly ‘crowding’ around him, more so simply getting closer than he was used to. It simply felt like they were crowding around him. The sensation was a bit odd but he didn’t really mind it, “So, are you all going to tell me what I missed or what?”

The five of them made for an odd sight together as they passed by a few stray T-Dolls that Persica allowed in her facilities. Persica’s private lab was usually closed off, very few people could enter with her permission. And very few people could enter without her permission. 

ENTANGLE technically counted as part of the former. It was due to an old contract that the entirety of Branch’s AC force could come and go here as they pleased. The Neo-Soviets would’ve raised a fuss if they knew but only a small portion of them did. Those who knew were those who knew that having Branch be an uncontrollable ally by association was better than an uncontrollable enemy. 

As the Armored Core continued to chat and react to the stories that AR Team were currently telling him, the four highly-advanced T-Dolls happily recounting their past adventures, his mind was more focused on the contract he’d accepted from Persica.

“–OWN caught big sis drinking on the job so he took all her whiskey!” SOPMOD exclaimed loudly, dragging ENTANGLE by the arm toward the common room.

ST AR-15 nodded, “And I thank him for that every day. At least M16 seems just a bit more professional.”

M16A1 made a lackluster sound of protest, clearly playing around with her siblings as M4A1 giggled.

“Sounds like ASTER CROWN, always a stickler for being professional.” ENTANGLE let out a laugh.

“Sure, but c’mon! He didn’t have to throw out all my whiskey!” M16A1 complained, causing a back and forth to occur between her and ST AR-15. One on the side of at least preserving the whiskey while the other told the other that she wished ASTER CROWN went further. It was obvious which was which.

Persica wanted them, his wing, to provide protection for Persica herself and the various facilities she needed to complete her current secretive projects. It was the main component of their contract and it was quite obvious that Persica did it only because she knew it was the only way to get ENTANGLE to stay.

M16A1 grumbled, “It would cost me nearly an entire year’s pay to replace all of it, STAR.”

“You don’t need to replace it in the first place.” ST AR-15 countered, “Especially after you started drinking coffee instead.”

M16A1 pouted, “It’s just not the same.” The eyepatch-wearing T-Doll gestured around the hallway with her thermos, “Coffee’s good and all but it can’t replace a good Jack Daniel’s.”

“You know there’s alcoholic coffee right?” ENTANGLE casually pointed out, still letting SOPMOD drag him by the arm toward AR Team’s onsite dorms.

There was a look of betrayal on ST AR-15’s face as M16A1 chuckled. The eldest member of AR Team grinned, “Yep, that’s why I have this.” She patted her hip flask.

M4A1 took the opportunity to jump in, “ASTER CROWN is rationing big sis’ alcohol. He gives her a weekly stipend of sixty ounces.” The soft-spoken T-Doll explained.

“Which isn’t enough,” M16A1 said with a mischievous grin. She leaned closer to ENTANGLE, nudging his shoulder with her elbow,  “Hey, while you’re here, you mind passing some Jack Daniels down my way?”

Amusing. Effectively budgeting the alcohol of the eldest Anti-Rain sister was definitely something ASTER CROWN would definitely do, considering how that Armored Core viewed these girls. That man seemed less like a mercenary every day, but with ASTER CROWN’s age, it made sense. There was a reason the old Armored Core was training his AC candidates. Even Armored Cores weren’t resistant to the passing of time.

Though, considering ENTANGLE was older than ASTER CROWN and he was still kicking, maybe the second-eldest among Branch’s AC lineup was simply losing his touch. 

“You’d have to owe me, but I could definitely sneak in some.” ENTANGLE said with mild amusement visible on his face.

“Heh. I’ll take that.”

“Tch.” ST AR-15 crossed her arms, looking away from her eldest sister. In response, M4A1 laid a comforting hand on her sister’s shoulder. The sharpshooter barely outwardly reacted but from the way ENTANGLE could see the pink-haired T-Doll’s shoulders slackened ever so slightly.

Back to the matter at hand... What was that damn scientist trying to do by getting him to stay here? Persica didn’t do things randomly… well she did. But there’s a difference between doing something random because she wanted to and spending millions of global credits to bring one person to her lab.

It wasn’t for the firepower, even with Branch’s additional funding for his main chassis, that he used quite liberally… it still wasn’t designed to take out massed groups. His main chassis was built to take out one specific group of enemies only. 

Admittedly, his plasma missiles could be useful against the hordes that rogue Sangvis usually fielded but that was about it. The rest of his armaments? Tuned toward taking out singular targets with extreme prejudice. 

Shadowing AR Team? Unlikely. The girls could take of themselves. They’d made sure of that. ST AR-15 was a particularly dangerous sharpshooter now thanks to him. Well that and the FGM-172 SRAW he gifted her.

The contract specified it was one of defense, however the offer was made specifically to ENTANGLE’s wing. Different Branch wings could do the job better. The fifth wing was specialized toward unsymmetrical warfare not direct combat.

Sure, they could hold a facility if need be, but in a situation gone FUBAR, they weren’t the best. Good enough? Yes. The best? No.

Every other wing was a better choice.

The first wing? They were the jack of all trades. They could do this easy. Especially with NIGHTFALL.

The second? Unlikely compared to the other choices but far more optimal than his wing. They fielded shock troopers and heavy armor. Shock troopers might not be the best, but heavy armor would be very useful.

Third? This wing was one of the best options since artillery is valuable in a defensive operation. Plus their combat engineers were vicious and that was coming from him.

Fifth? Rapid insertion with paratroopers would be a good quick reaction force. ENTANGLE may not like I5-283, but he was a decent AC. Better than the fragile, mass-produced products the corps were pumping out.

For now, ENTANGLE would just see where this contract would take him. That and he might as well check if AR Team has gone rusty under I5-283’s care. The damn interim-gen has always been too laid back. 

Chapter Text

Life was colorful again. 

It’d been a while since he’d last seen combat. Even though this spar, this mere simulation, in his inferior chassis, was nothing compared to the true thrill of the hunt. Still, the scent of acrid gunpowder and the feeling of exhilaration as he tracked M4A1 through this concrete jungle was good enough to satisfy him. For now at least.

ENTANGLE ducked behind a ruined car, ensuring that he’d have some concealment. It wouldn’t provide any real good cover but it was better than nothing. In his hands was a Takigawa Harmonics model pulse carbine. 

Compared to the full pulse gun that his main chassis fielded, it was nothing more than a toy, barely able to disrupt proper pulse shields. However, it was sufficient for combating infantry. It did come with the added benefit of being adjustable too, he could set it to fire at lower frequencies, so this mere spar between him and Anti-Rain wouldn’t be lethal. 

The false hunt the burgundy-haired (not pink like his subordinates may claim) T-Doll was currently partaking in was currently held in one of 16LAB’s artificial arenas, not a virtual one, but a physically constructed one as per the request of Branch. Virtual arena simulators like the ones run by NEST, and by extension ALLMIND, were good enough for burgeoning mercs but were ultimately flawed.

For practicing the basics or letting off some steam, sure, he’d allow his mercs to use simulators. However, the simulators lacked any real biological feedback. There was no sense of pain or adrenaline when a shot from a linear rifle grazed a person’s core, barely missing your vitals, or when your left arm unit was melted by plasma forcing a weapon purge or else the plasma would continue melting your arm.

It was all simple equations and code, hence why Branch commissioned 16LAB to build physical arenas for the training of Anti-Rain. Actual pain would help them learn faster, even if nonlethal stun rounds were used. 

ENTANGLE didn’t particularly enjoy the neutering of Anti-Rain’s training. He had experienced live fire training and made it out perfectly fine. Though he supposed keeping AR Team safe was part of their old contract so it made some sense.

The Armored Core briefly spotted the glint of a scope out in a mildly faraway building: second floor, three windows from the left side, North. It was likely this sharpshooter was ST AR-15, she was the one often on the range last he recalled. 

“Hm. Sloppier than I remembered. I5-283 did let them go rusty.” ENTANGLE murmured to himself. Dashing from his concealed position, the slightly muffled but still very much audible burst of gunfire from a silenced AR-15 followed soon after. 

Unfortunately for ST AR-15, her trigger finger was seemingly a bit too slow. She did spot him in less time than he expected, he’d give her that. His lips curled into a small grin, a rush of some emotion flaring up in his core.

ENTANGLE made it behind a building into an alleyway, clearing each dark corner before relaxing his stance, though not fully. ENTANGLE’s eyes still constantly scanned for the presence of his prey.

His auditory sensors detected footsteps and a brief flash of blonde hair on one of the rooftops, which let him know that he’d walked straight into an ambush. Unfortunately, while SOPMOD may have thought that she had the drop on him, he’d faced tougher opponents than her.

He rushed further down into the alleyway, leaping up onto a misplaced brick, giving him enough leverage to climb onto the roof of the facsimile of a ruined restaurant. By the time he stood up, a 40mm explosive was poised to detonate right in his secondary chassis’ face. 

The lag his current body was experiencing was nearly enough to cause ENTANGLE to simply take the explosion, but his instincts were enough to just barely react on time. Instead of taking the grenade head-on, his body swiftly twisted itself in ways that regular humans couldn’t without injuring themselves while steadily keeping his eyes on the origin of the grenade.

A facsimile of pain ran through his mind, his T-Doll chassis screaming at him that he was stretching his artificial limbs a bit too far.

It only made him feel more alive.

His simplified FCS, one made for disposable bodies such as the one he was currently inhabiting, took longer than he wanted to lock onto the blonde T-Doll. She’d already dashed behind cover, leaping down and giving the height advantage to ENTANGLE. The Armored Core fired a steady stream of pulse projectiles at the car she hid behind. 

The steel that made up the car rapidly began to melt under the burst of oscillating waves, forcing SOPMOD to continue her retreat East. Odd. She’d normally not be this passive, even after Branch’s training. 

M4A1 or ST AR-15 was able to wrangle SOPMOD perhaps? But the blonde T-Doll seemed to be on her lonesome. That’d make wrangling her more difficult. 

ENTANGLE held himself back from pursuing, instead opting to move toward the direction of where ST AR-15 was sniping him from earlier. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he occasionally dashed left and right to dodge the occasional crack of bullets whizzing by. All from the same general direction but she wasn’t in the same location.

One burst of gunfire was precariously close to burying itself into his ankle but ENTANGLE simply ignored it. From the corner of his eyes, the programs embedded into his mind began to run several simultaneous calculations. 

Pulse guns, of all varieties, had the drawback of their projectiles naturally dissipating, unlike laser weapons which would keep going until they hit something. That was simply natural when oscillating sound waves were weaponized due to the inverse square law: sound would become less intense the more area it has to distribute itself over. 

Hence why pulse weapons did their best to keep the soundwaves in a singular shape but those shapes couldn’t last forever as a projectile. Pulse weapons designed for melee didn’t have this problem due to their use in close-quarters combat, retaining their high destructive potential, making them a favored pick for both infantry and ACs.

But now? ST AR-15 was in range. A concentrated stream of pulse projectiles screeched into the building the pink-haired T-Doll took shelter in, ENTANGLE’s ocular systems were able to detect her attempting to reposition to the right before the sharpshooter disappeared entirely from his view.

AR Team’s counterattack came in the form of the staccato fire of M16A1 and SOPMOD from his western flank. 

Wait, SOPMOD? How and why did she double back to his western flank rather than surrounding him by going on his eastern flank? 

The answer came in the form of a training rocket exploding into a shower of smoke and minor debris approximately a meter away from his feet, ENTANGLE’s body fell into a building through its ruined roof, it was some kind of false grocery store filled with empty shelves. A cough forced its way past his lips, he didn’t even need to breathe but he did so anyway. The uniformed T-Doll let out a few hacks and coughs as the dust settled and he began to disengage, dashing through the streets from cover to cover.

Well played. That got his adrenaline pumping as muted as it was.

ENTANGLE could hear the voice of Trespass-1, one of the observers of this simulation, informing him that he was injured but not out. Automated systems and programs installed into the training equipment he wore forcibly clamped down on his leg, slowing him down.

Still, a smile spread across his face. They really had progressed. This false hunt was truly interesting. 

His heart pounded deafeningly loud in his ears. He could feel his blood pumping through his veins as decrepit as they were, the thrill coming back to him. Gunfire intensified as M16A1 and SOPMOD pursued, the sound of manic yet understandable laughter was distinctly audible to him.

Yes, he could understand SOPMOD’s enjoyment of this. False hunt it may be, the tactics employed by the AR Team had elevated this exercise. 

The Armored Core could smell the blood in the air once more. Sliding into a mimicry of a restaurant, he reached behind his back to grab his other weapon. 

The mercenary would happily admit to Branch’s ACs having two enjoyers of explosives amongst them: Umber Ox and himself. Surely, the AR Team would know that they weren’t the only ones equipped with explosives. 

ENTANGLE reached behind him, grabbing the other weapon he had brought with him. Normally, a firing stance would be needed to properly use it but he had some experience with shooting one of these while on the run. Soon a Ce-Sun infantry rocket launcher, designed by Balam Industries, fired its payload at his pursuers who quickly dodged out of the way. 

But they weren’t his intended target. 

From a decent distance away, using one of the windows as a firing position, ST AR-15 widened her eyes. She dashed away, abandoning the bulky SRAW she carried to try and sprint out of the blast radius.

She wasn’t fast enough.

The simulated explosion in the distance was like music to ENTANGLE’s artificial auditory systems.

“ST AR-15, out.” Trespass-1 announced through the arena’s speaker systems, “Exit the arena immediately.”

ENTANGLE let out a laugh, “One down.” His gaze sharpened, even as more return fire came from a rapidly approaching SOPMOD. “Three more to go.” Let him see how much M4A1 began to panic when she lost one of her sisters.

A training grenade attempted to bring the roof of this building onto ENTANGLE. As he crashed through a window to escape it, Trespass-1 continuing to inform him of his new simulated damage, the hunter idly wondered if AR Team gained a mild infatuation with bringing the roof down on people. That was twice now.

Well, three times would confirm that it was a pattern, so he had plenty of time in this practice match to see if it really was an infatuation.

He returned the Ce-Sun launcher to his back, his pulse carbine back in his hands. Seeing that SOPMOD was no longer pursuing him, the hunter quickly figured out that M4A1 must’ve called for her to regroup. 

Against Sangvis, that was a good decision. Against most forces, it was a good call even if it also let the enemy forces rest.

ENTANGLE was neither. And he’d punish AR Team for assuming he’d be in the latter category. 

Instincts that he kept at bay, the natural desire for death and bloodshed ENTANGLE kept buried, had reawakened with this return to combat. His blood roiled beneath his skin. A faint voice, not the mockery that he used to speak but rather his true voice, whispered for him to end this hunt once and for all.

The Armored Core wouldn’t. As much as his desires wished for it, this was merely a training exercise, a false hunt, not a true one. Besides, he wished to see how far Anti-Rain had come. ENTANGLE didn’t wish to annihilate them. He would hold himself back.

Still, he could have some fun at the same time.

The faint voice accepted this compromise. For now.

M4A1 knew she screwed up.

The three remaining members of AR Team in this exercise were holed up in a brand new building on its third floor. Wind ran through the building from its glaring wounds, providing some ambient background noise and pleasant ventilation. Thankfully, unlike the real ruined buildings M4A1 and her sisters had to deal with in the field, there weren’t any disgusting scents. 

M16A1 was still checking the windows, peeking her head for a mere moment before walking back over to M4A1.

An easy-going grin was still plastered on her older sister’s face, “Relax sis, I can practically feel the stress coming from you.” M16A1 removed her eye patch, looking at her younger sister with both her eyes. “This is just a sim mission, you don’t have to sweat about it too much.”

M4A1 let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. It was an entirely human action but her neural cloud found it strangely relaxing, “I know. But we lost STAR because…” The soft-spoken T-Doll nervously bit her lip, “Because I forgot to take into account, ENTANGLE having his own–”

“We haven’t seen the guy in a year, it isn’t surprising that he got some new toys, M4.” M16A1 waved her off, “Besides, we still nearly got him a few times earlier. We’re doing well.” She held her namesake weapon casually in one hand, still taking into account trigger discipline, while her other hand played with the strap of the miniaturized cannon on her back. 

“I’m sure the rest would be proud that we got him to run for most of this sim so far too,” M16A1 chuckled. Though, the fact that ENTANGLE had managed to dodge most of their shots went unsaid, his agility and ability to predict where a shot was going to land was a bit frightening to be honest. The hand previously playing with the strap began to ruffle M4A1’s hair much to her mild annoyance. It wasn’t like she was still her younger self. Though, she had to admit it did feel nice and comforting.

M4A1 smiled softly even as she removed M16A1’s hand off her head, “Thank you, M16. Can you check on SOPMOD while I try to plan things out?”

The older T-Doll simply gave her younger sister a thumbs up as she put her eye patch back on, “Heh, ‘course I can sis.” She walked out of the room, poking her head into the room SOPMOD had commandeered. “Hey SOPMOD, watcha doing in there?”

M4A1 could hear the excited chatter as SOPMOD began to explain the mechanics of her current project, some form of modified thermite launcher. 

Maybe it was a bit of a bad idea to let her excitable younger sister build a thermite launcher but considering how happy she was, it was fine right? Besides, Persica and Umber Ox okayed it too, so that was something at least? 

M4A1 shook her head, clearing her neural cloud of those thoughts. She needed to focus. 

ENTANGLE was fast and agile, always capable of dodging their most damaging weapons such as STAR’s missile launcher and SOPMOD’s grenades. They hadn’t tried using M16A1’s diffusion cannon but considering that it needed to charge to have an explosive impact, it meant it would leave one of their three remaining combat operatives vulnerable to a swift ambush.

She’d tried to get around his agility by trapping him under rubble so they could finish him off but AR Team’s earlier attempts were unsuccessful.

A slightly audible noise came from the wall beside her, almost like a knock, M4A1 immediately swung around and aimed her rifle at it before remembering that they were on the third floor. The cracked window revealed nothing but the expected view of ruined buildings and a blue sky. 

The sound was still suspicious, considering what Branch put them through before... 

It was unlikely but at the same time, according to Branch, they had done weirder things before. But ENTANGLE didn’t seem like the kind to pull those types of plans.

Still, there was nothing normal that could’ve made that kind of noise, so she promptly called for M16A1 and SOPMOD to join her through the Zenner Protocol. The two promptly did. SOPMOD wearing an energetic grin waved at AR Team’s leader before joining her sister, her current pet project slung over her shoulder. M16A1 returned more guarded, rifle already prepared and finger near the trigger.

Careful not to flag her sister, M16A1 kept her eyes on the direction M4A1 was facing. SOPMOD seemed a little confused until, again through the Zenner network, M4A1 explained what she heard.

A soft growl, playful but also a bit combative, came from SOPMOD. 

SOPMOD electronically spoke to M4A1, ‘M4? Can I check? Please.’ She dragged out the word please through the digital conversation. M16A1 probably would’ve chuckled at that but the sinking feeling M4A1 was currently experiencing, was probably being experienced by M16A1 too.

‘Do it SOP.’ M4A1 nodded. 

SOPMOD slowly approached the window and looked down.

Only a confused ‘Eh?’ left SOPMOD’s mouth before the close-combat expert of AR Team was aggressively yanked out of the window by an armored hand. Glass shattered and a loud oomph could be heard from the floor underneath them, followed by the sounds of a scuffle.

“SOP!” M4A1 cried out. M16A1 was already on the move and M4A1 rushed to meet her. The two of them quickly ran down the stairs to the second floor, pausing at a door they had barricaded earlier.

M4A1 stacked against the wall, giving her eldest sister a nod. The eye-patch-wearing brunette nodded back before kicking the door down. It landed with a loud thud, M4A1 watched the right while M16A1 scanned the left. 

Neither SOPMOD nor ENTANGLE were in the first room. The pair kept moving toward the sounds of the vicious melee. A part of M4A1 wanted to rush to her energetic sister’s side but the idea of ‘slow is smooth and smooth is fast’ was engrained within her neural cloud.

Another door was kicked by M16A1, finally revealing ENTANGLE attempting to wrench his dagger away from SOPMOD. The Branch member and T-Doll were both standing, ENTANGLE had his back against the wall while SOPMOD’s back was pressed against ENTANGLE’s uniform. Both their weapons had fallen onto the ground.

The M16A1 and M4A1 trained their guns on ENTANGLE, their FCS systems locking onto target, but both were hesitant to open fire. Even if this was a training exercise, neither wanted to accidentally shoot their sister. 

SOPMOD angrily bit down on ENTANGLE’s metallic hand, however as ENTANGLE had no pain receptors, it didn’t work to force ENTANGLE away. However, the blonde spotted her sisters from the corner of her reddish eyes, and SOPMOD’s eager grin returned. 

‘Hey, M4!’ SOPMOD cheerfully broadcasted, “Ready for an opening?”

‘Yes.’

She used her legs to provide enough momentum to slam ENTANGLE into the wall while she elbowed him where his sternum would be. Habitually, the member of Branch let SOPMOD go dropping his dagger as he did so, while SOPMOD proceeded to dash out of the way. 

Seeing the opportunity, M16A1 and M4A1 opened fire on their opponent. 

Instead of being taken out, ENTANGLE’s instincts allowed him to roll out of the way, barely avoiding getting hit, “Not bad. Time to return the favor.” A bloodthirsty grin, though one more subtle than SOPMOD’s when she was allowed to let loose on Sangvis, was visible on his face. He pushed forward. 

M4A1 barely had time to react when SOPMOD, who wasn’t expecting such a sudden burst of movement, was sent flying toward her with a brutal kick from ENTANGLE. The two crash landed onto a mass of wrecked furniture. Meanwhile, M16A1 was swept off the ground by a casual sweep of her legs.

Unlike her sisters, M16A1 was a bit more prepared. The T-Doll swiftly rolled back onto her feet and countered another incoming kick by blocking using her diffusion cannon like a shield. Letting out a grunt, ENTANGLE took several steps back to reassess the situation. 

“Not bad at all,” ENTANGLE said, rolling his shoulders.

“Thanks, but I thought you’d be better at paying attention.” Her words made ENTANGLE frown. M16A1 merely grinned but she didn’t respond further instead vaguely gesturing to the ground.

ENTANGLE did so, seeing a slow-rolling grenade, one of SOPMOD’s spares. He traced its original path to see SOPMOD and M4A1, having gotten back onto their feet. 

The mercenary T-Doll could’ve dashed away, he could’ve done any number of maneuvers to escape the explosion. But he didn’t. He didn’t look mad at the fact they managed to trap him, but rather he almost looked approving. 

“Heh. Well played.” 

A shockwave hit the room, followed by the reverberating echoes of gunfire from M4A1 and SOPMOD. 

Trespass-1’s voice soon emanated throughout the arena, “M16A1… ENTANGLE, out.” A soft sigh came from ENTANGLE’s guard.

“Anti-Rain takes this victory.”

“Pretty impressive what you accomplished out there,” ENTANGLE murmured, looking down at the four current members of AR Team. Freshly showered and changed, they were all lounging in their dorm. ENTANGLE himself was leaning against one of the walls of their dorm. The Armored Core’s body armor lay next to him on the floor alongside his pulse carbine, though at least his uniform had been changed out for a more casual maroon windbreaker and black jeans.

M4A1 let out a soft sigh as M16A1 had her younger sister’s head cradled in her lap, gently patting their leader on the head. SOPMOD was tinkering with something in her hands, a few tools messily scattered across the floor but from the way her eyes occasionally glanced over at ENTANGLE and the admittedly endearing pout on her face, she was also somewhat miffed at the result of their match. 

ST AR-15 simply glared from her position, similarly to him, she had her back against a wall. However, her hands were crossed over her chest and she stood near her sisters, unlike him who was standing across from them, “We lost half of us in the process and M16 had to sacrifice herself. You only had yourself,” The moody sharpshooter said, looking down at the floor, “But I still can’t believe you scaled a three-story building to reach them.”

ENTANGLE barked out a laugh, “Better get used to it, kid. There’s a lot of people who can and will do things like I do.” Not to mention there were a lot of people, human and T-Doll, who could do it better. ENTANGLE may have been proud at his designation of C-rank, thereby marking him as an elite Armored Core but there were still the even more efficient hunters out there.

Like NIGHTFALL and LOCKSMITH.

Compared to them, ENTANGLE was at a complete disadvantage. Not to mention how out of shape he’d become, he hadn’t seen true combat in a long while. His main chassis was previously taken out of commission while his current T-Doll form was too valuable to lose until his main chassis was repaired. 

“And hey, I’m not saying it wasn’t a bit of a pyrrhic victory, but I’m also not disparaging your attempts at taking me down. Especially considering that, at the end of the day, all of you were successful. Doubt you could’ve done that when we first met you. You’ve all definitely improved.” ENTANGLE tipped his head. He could see the slightly downtrodden spirits of SOPMOD and M4A1 brighten. Even ST AR-15 seemed to straighten her head, the pink-haired T-Doll’s gaze refocusing onto him. 

ENTANGLE continued, “Though, I’m curious. Did you really all come up with that early hunting plan on your own?”

“Yes. We did.” M4A1 spoke up, straight looking at ENTANGLE, green meeting blue.

Those steely eyes of hers, more confident than when he’d first met the T-Doll, still not fully confident but willing to put herself out there. Progress was progress, he’d give her that. He barely noticed ST AR-15 confirming her sister’s words with a nod. 

ENTANGLE grinned, “Good. Those constant ambushes and that switch in places actually caught me off guard. Keep going, keep innovating. You all did well adjusting to my actions.”

“That should be the basics though,” ST AR-15 grumbled. 

“Not knowing the basics is what causes the most failure. And reinforcing the basics keeps that failure rate down.” ENTANGLE lazily countered, “Speaking of which, did I5-283 ensure you kept reviewing the basics?”

SOPMOD’s ears seemed to have perked up. The blonde T-Doll sat up straight and tilted her head in a way that somewhat reminded ENTANGLE of a puppy, “Wait, why don’t you just call him BITT–” 

“I5-283.” ENTANGLE calmly interrupted, his drawl becoming more pronounced. SOPMOD’s pout became a bit more noticeable and pronounced to ENTANGLE’s ocular systems. ST AR-15 walked over and awkwardly patted her blonde sister on the head, which seemed to mollify the girl. He turned his head just a tad to move the pair to the corner of his eyes. 

The Armored Core refused to admit how much SOPMOD’s wounded puppy look tore at his heartstrings.

“Well, ‘I5-283,’” ENTANGLE could practically hear the air quotes and twinge of amusement in M16A1’s voice. It was clear the eldest sister noticed ENTANGLE’s dislike of Branch’s newest AC, “Did do training. Regimented training with his wing too, in a variety of situations in the simulation dome.”

ENTANGLE raised an eyebrow, “Any live fire?”

“No, but the usual missions we get from Persica are good enough practice.” M16A1 took a sip of her coffee.

Her words made ENTANGLE hum. 

It was doubtful that they were good practice, considering they tended to be more quiet stealth missions but better than no combat at all. Sneaking around was something ENTANGLE enjoyed but mostly when going after high-priority targets. 

Retrieval missions were boring if there wasn’t any combat, for him at least. 

SOPMOD would definitely agree, though with her newfound hobby on tinkering with tech beyond T-Doll parts, her boredom could be satiated with that. Unlike him.

Because beyond the veil of humanity he wore, ENTANGLE knew that he was nothing more than a bloodhound, a false follower of Branch’s ideals. He was no Raven. Even BITTER PROMISE fit the bill as a Raven better than he did.

He would keep the facade up. He would keep furthering Branch’s goals, keep being the attack dog Branch needed to keep the PCA off their backs. He would help train Anti-Rain until they reached their true potential. He had to. 

Until one day, either the PCA or Branch itself put him down like the dog he was. 

How amusing. He hadn’t had these thoughts in a while. But ENTANGLE supposed he just kept this side of him buried when he lost his ability to fight. Now with a T-Doll frame and his Armored Core chassis repaired, it returned. 

But as Anti-Rain continued to talk, ENTANGLE kept his grin up. No hint of his thoughts were shown on his face. The illusion of a regular mercenary was kept intact. 

Chapter Text

Normally, the range at 16Lab’s facilities was nearly entirely empty save for a T-doll and her team. Today, it was a different story. While AR-15 was there, there were more guests than usual.

With the arrival of ENTANGLE’s wing, the range was often full of veteran mercenaries taking advantage of the nature of their contract. The Armored Core had negotiated a fairly lucrative and loose contract with their employer. As such, ENTANGLE’s men were able to move around with a bit more freedom than most hired hounds would be able to. 

Unfortunately that meant AR-15 didn’t have her privacy nor the usual quiet within her ‘safe space’ whatever M16 called the range. Just because she liked using the range to practice didn’t mean that it was her safe space, she had… other places she liked to hang out at! Definitely!

Her own practiced staccato of gunfire came to an end, AR-15 slid her magazine out and emptied the chamber. Setting aside her gun, she took off her sound-dampening headphones and eye-protection. They weren’t necessary for a doll like her, but it was a habit she gained from ENTANGLE back when he was teaching her.

The reminder that her teacher… mentor? Teacher worked. The fact that her teacher was currently here after a year of being gone made the pink-haired T-Doll shiver. Despite all those missions and experience, she’d been the first to be taken out in that mock-battle. It was humiliating.

She held down the button harder than necessary as it brought over the target she’d been shooting at. As expected, her grouping was near perfect. The low droning voice of the automated analysis system informed AR-15 that she had an average of a three inch spread at a range of roughly ninety metres. 

Not good enough. 

She needed to be better. She needed to–

“Hey, there!” Someone tapped her on the shoulder. AR-15’s knife nearly stabbed the man’s eye out if not for the fact his friend pulled him back. The T-Doll glared at the one who had his hand stretched out.  

“Dumbass,” His friend hissed before glancing her way, his white visor may have prevented his eyes from being seen but from his body language, AR-15 felt it was clear he was apologetic. The two were in BAWS mass-produced armor, though one was in a noticeably more bulky set while the other was more lightweight. 

How did the one in heavy armor sneak up on her like that?

“Apologises for the interruption, Private Kirk over here,” He pulled the now-named Kirk back, making his friend squawk in protest, holding the armored man by the armor plating on the back of his neck, “Noticed you stood out among the crowd.” The man let go of Kirk making the other mercenary nearly stumble and fall on his ass, adjusting the sniper rifle strapped over his shoulder using his now-free hand instead.

AR-15 clicked her tongue. It was obvious why, Kirk at least, were here, “You two are here because of the stories you’ve heard, aren’t you.” She said with narrowed eyes.

Apparently, the two Dolls ENTANGLE brought had filled the mercenary rumor mill about her sisters and herself. Just great. Turns out having a private match against her teacher made the mercenaries under his command curious. Fun.

Kirk seemed to be dumbfounded for a moment, “N–”

The sniper interrupted Kirk, “Yes.” He let out a tired sigh, “Got asked a lot of questions already?”

AR-15 merely glared. Letting out another sigh, the sniper held out his hand.

“Gordo, this is my spotter, Kirk.” 

AR-15 took a moment to shake it, still wary of the two. Gordo and Kirk were both wearing the colors of ENTANGLE’s battalion but just because they worked for ENTANGLE didn’t mean that she’d enjoy their company.

“ST AR-15.” The pink-haired T-Doll introduced herself before turning around. Grabbing the gun cleaning kit gifted to her, she began the meticulous process of gun maintenance, uncaring of the two awkwardly standing behind her. Well, one of them seemed to be awkward at least, Gordo simply took a position in the range and unslung his rifle.

At least one of them seemed to actually want to use the range. And he was using an Arquebus produced rifle too. She knew a bit about laser weaponry, less than SOPMOD but she knew enough about their strengths and weaknesses.

“So–” She tuned the dumbass out.

While laser weapons on vehicles were able to rely on internal generators, infantry-scale ones relied on replaceable batteries effectively losing out on the reason why laser weapons were used, because they now required time to reload. Sure, they needed to vent larger amounts of heat on a vehicle but a veteran crew would also know how to avoid getting into a situation where their main weapons overheated. As an infantry weapon, lasers had to deal with reloading batteries and overheating.

Now, there were still a few reasons lasers were used by infantry. They were lighter overall than their kinetic counterparts and were better logistically because at least they could be recharged on the fly, so military bases only needed a small stockpile for the entirety of their forces.

Although power consumption was a concern, several of the larger corporations found solutions. There was a reason that Arquebus and VCPL generators were a common sight, high initial cost investment but damn they were well built. Even 16LAB’s facilities ran on Arquebus generators.

AR-15 did hear about BAWS and Dafeng putting out some pretty decent competition but Arquebus and VCPL were still the first ones to come to mind for most people

“–re you… even listening?”

She glanced at the range, swiftly noting down the spread of Gordo’s shots into her neural cloud, comparing it with her own. The T-Doll didn’t get a signal from Gordo so he was definitely human, which considering his accuracy, marked him down as somewhat impressive.

Not as good as her accuracy though. 

A soft yet paradoxically loud ping reminded AR-15 of the time. Looking at her gun, she quickly finished up before tucking it into its case. 

“If you’ll excuse me,” AR-15 finally spoke up to Kirk making the man perk up, “Can you move?” The tone she used made it clear there was no room for negotiation. The man’s mouth opened and closed like a confused guppy before his partner dragged him into a range booth.

Walking out, AR-15 passed by a few staring mercenaries but thankfully the rest were too preoccupied with their own activities to interrupt her. 

That was good, that meant she wouldn’t be late for the usual fam– AR team gathering.

Hm, maybe she could invite…

“Sulla! How nice of you to visit.” The loud, obnoxiously British voice boomed. The ancient frame of an Armored Core, contained within 16LAB’s private AC hangar, creaked. Just as he remembered, the old man still refused any upgrades from Persica. ENTANGLE may have had problems with her but considering what she did for him? 

He trusted her knowledge when it came to technology. 

The problem was this old man simply was content with what he had. Not that ENTANGLE couldn’t respect that.

It was just a small part of him wished his fellow AC would be capable of more.

“C1-105, BULLPEN.”

The tall Armored Core let out a laugh, if anyone else was in the hangar it’d probably feel as if the entire room was shaking with how loud the AC was. Despite being well-taken care of, it was easy to see that he’d seen better days. It was an older Basho frame made by BAWS, one even less modern than the current ones they produced.

Modern Basho frames used welding, which was a stark improvement to their rushed Third World War counterparts which were using rivets to hold themselves together.

“Oh, Sulla, I thought we were friends after what we old men went through?”

“Right,” ENTANGLE smiled goodnaturedly, “Still, it feels wrong to call each other by our firmer names, Cassian.”

“Perhaps for you.” Cassian’s head, slowly with the help of his rusty core, bent down to look at ENTANGLE, “Though, I will admit being called BULLPEN again does feel like a bit of my youth has returned to me.”

“Your age is showing, old man.” ENTANGLE murmured.

“Old man? I’m merely twenty years your senior.” The old man refuted, the old Basho frame head seemed to give off the air of mild disappointment, all playful of course. “Imagine if your daughter knew how old you are now.”

Tch.

Another laugh left the AC, reverberating throughout the hangar, nearly awakening the other occupants before Cassian quieted down. Cassian was merely one of the four ACs under 16LAB’s management. A small team of T-Dolls, under the command of Persica alone, helped maintain them. 

Despite their age, these ACs were old veterans of the Second and Third World Wars. In different circumstances, yes but they were veterans nonetheless. Just as ENTANGLE was.

“Now, Sulla, I will admit that I am quite surprised at your presence! Even Nossarc visited more often than you do and that youngster is quite the character!” Cassian said as the slow whir of hydraulics let the first generation AC leave his holdings. A slow step forward led the AC to stand directly in front of ENTANGLE, looming over the mercenary.

ENTANGLE was unphased, “You know why.”

An audible sigh washed over ENTANGLE allowing the Armored Core to hear the crackling of Cassian’s speakers, “Truly, I thought your age would have let you be more introspective. Though, I suppose you didn’t have the time to think, too busy fighting all the time, yes?”

ENTANGLE remained silent, letting the other Armored Core continue speaking.

“The sins of our creators should not be yours to handle.” Cassian said softly, “The Rubicon Research Institute is long gone. We made sure of that, old friend. Do you forget how all of us burned their very facilities to the ground that not even the allies could make use of their research?”

“And yet, there were more generations beyond the ones they made.” Sulla whispered. This body of his, the one Persica made for him, was imperfect. Unlike proper T-Dolls, an Armored Core as old a generation as him couldn’t properly feel sensations while inhabiting a shell. There was still sensation, but it was faint. 

Even still, he swore he felt himself shiver.

“Safer ones.” That fact provided little solace.

The burgundy-haired Armored Core glanced to the side, looking at the three other ACs in the hangar: C2-401, C4-809, C1-322.

GRANDSTAND, FLAGBEARER, and ACHILLES. Parker, Vitaly, Lorenzo.

All of the ACs within this room were relics of an older age. Each shouldn't be existing in this state in the first place. They all should’ve died than be stuck in a hangar unable to leave for fear of being confiscated by the NUSSR. Every country wanted to reverse-engineer their own Armored Cores to bypass the external mega-corps.

At Sulla’s bitter smile, Cassian swiftly changed the subject.

“How is your current frame, Sulla? Are you still using those stolen parts?”

“Yes, because they’re better than yours,” Sulla countered, “Modern bashos may be serviceable but unlike you I’m not content with staying in outdated frames.” A bit more venom than he intended came out.

Cassian didn’t so much as recoil but more so leaned backward, his Basho arms finding themselves at his sides opening and closing around nothing. However, his voice was as boisterous as ever.

“Hah, you underestimate a Basho frame! Besides, unlike you we’ve retired from combat. At most, the four of us,” Obviously referring to Parker, Vitaly, and Lorenzo, “Do some handiwork for the doctor.”

Sulla began to tap his foot. This conversation had quickly turned awkward, letting out a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Right, but I don’t simply do construction. I still see combat.”

“And I didn’t say that your current frame wasn’t suited for combat! Merely that a Basho frame can still be dangerous.” *There was an amused tilt to Cassian’s voice. If he weren’t stuck in that AC frame, Sulla was sure he’d have tilted his head with that infuriatingly charming smirk he used to have.

Cassian continued, “But I do know that you’re dancing around the question you actually want to ask. You wouldn’t have come here otherwise.”

Sulla made to interject but Cassian cut him off.

“I know the kind of man you are. We served together back in the day.” Cassian sighed, “I know how you deal with… this.” The AC used one of his arms to motion toward the other docked ACs, “And I know when you want something. Please, be direct.”

Sulla took a deep breath. “Do you still have the access codes?” Sulla asked, making Cassian’s frame freeze. The Armored Core’s ocular systems focused on Sulla, glowing a bright red which filled the room with its hue. 

“Sull– No, ENTANGLE.” BULLPEN said slowly, dangerously. “Do tell me that you aren’t attempting to ruin your reputation with the PCA even further, after you had recently improved it.” The ancient AC spoke as if he was talking to a new pilot fresh off the examination table, which ENTANGLE ignored.

“This shouldn’t ruin my current reputation with the PCA, at least not by much, either way they’re still after me regardless. I just need the codes to check something.”

BULLPEN rose to his full height, towering over ENTANGLE’s current body. Exhaust exited from his back thrusters in bursts alongside small bouts of flame, reminding ENTANGLE of how this small habit of BULLPEN was the reason for his designation. Well that, and once BULLPEN got going…

“Still I thought you were smart enough not to antagonize the PCA directly, especially since you helped out with that… fiasco. I had hoped that your age would’ve let you be the mediator and voice of reason for Branch, it seems that I was mistaken.” The Basho growled, “Do you not remember what your foolishness nearly caused during the joint operation?”

Now that got a rise out of ENTANGLE, “That was hardly my fault! We all knew the stakes.”

Everything was perfect. They had the numbers. BULLPEN and the rest of the old guard had come out of retirement just for that operation, the PCA was providing support, and the entirety of Branch was there.

All of that, to support one lone mercenary. 

The PCA had been desperate.

The projected losses were staggering but acceptable. The PCA offered to take the brunt of it. Branch would maintain the cordon around the combat zone and reinforce as needed while the PCA and lone mercenary handled the main enemy force.

Three out of the five Branch wings were called in to reinforce the PCA.

His own was among those three. 

ENTANGLE could still remember the sweltering heat of the desert as he pushed his generator to its absolute limit. The screams of fallen PCA officers, Subject Guard, and fellow mercs as they were cut down by the sheer overwhelming amount of enemy fire.

ACs weren’t meant for long, drawn out battles, they were more akin to shock troopers. He remembered using all his available repair kits. He remembered fighting until his AC’s armor was stripped down to the barest layer. He remembered fighting until his main chassis absolutely couldn’t. And even then, he still activated his T-Doll body and kept going. As MTs and LCs clashed, ENTANGLE joined the rest of the infantry in clearing out the towers.

Unlike BITTER PROMISE.

“And yet when those stakes arrived, many weren’t ready for the fallout.” BULLPEN interrupted him, “We lost our original chassis, the PCA were maimed, and Branch lost several of its best that day.”

ENTANGLE’s fists clenched at the reminder. 

“Tell me, you still blame Nossarc yes?”

The way ENTANGLE’s eyes narrowed told BULLPEN all he needed to know.

“Forcing a young Armored Core such as he into a fight of that scale that early was a recipe for disaster. Yet, he still performed admirably at the time. You were asking too much of him and despite his mistakes, we still won that day.”

The Armored Core living within the T-Doll chassis was about to give a retort but he felt a ping come from the local network. Straightening up his back, his eyes blurred before they cleared and he turned around. 

“I’m being called.” BULLPEN couldn’t hear ENTANGLE’s thoughts but they both knew that this conversation wasn’t over.

All the Basho could do was simply glower at the stubborn mercenary as the T-Doll left and once ENTANGLE left his sight, Cassian let out a deep sigh. Such a human action wasn’t necessary but his mind still found it somewhat comforting.

If only he could change the mercenary’s mind but an old man such as himself wasn’t suited for the job.

He sighed to himself, knowing who likely called for ENTANGLE’s presence. Charming young ladies that they were, perhaps they could be more successful than he.

 Out in the cold Nevada desert, the old ranger shivered. Even with his duster, the night was still very chilly. He could see the frost float into the cloudy sky with each breath he took. The sniper rifle slung over his shoulder provided a small amount of comfort.

The Reclamation Project, also known as Operation: Enclave’s Revival, was going well. Already, what remained of American forces in the West Coast under the command of General Aetius Grafton had amassed around the former state of California, forming a defensive bulwark around its old borders. 

There was barely enough survivors to guard the entirety of California but with the help of mercenaries, it was possible albeit expensive. However with the amount of salvage available, mercenaries were willing to take a pay cut in exchange for being able to loot whatever they found.

A pang of anger flared within his heart, it was likely that his family’s old home had already been looted by a group of mercenaries and the thought of them taking his family’s belongings was infuriating. He had to crush that feeling.

As much as he despised it, the mercenaries were the only way they could recontact the rest of the United States. And it was because of mercenaries that they’d even made it this far into Nevada, let alone being able to govern multiple states such as Oregon and Washington while rebuilding their industrial capacity. 

The sniper rifle he had with him was a sign of the times to come, a Lastimosa Armory product it was a sufficient replacement for his old Barrett M82. It had become his main weapon, though he still held a soft spot for his old shotgun which had been unfortunately lost after a skirmish between his squad and some bandits. 

Most survivors were relieved, if not outright happy, that there was still civilization nearby ready and willing to take them in. The ones that weren’t were a problem.

A problem that needed removal if the Reclamation Project is to succeed.

As of now, there were three survivor groups that needed to be terminated: old-fashioned bandits, those post-apocalyptic medieval Roman hybrids that popped up because they looted various museums and decided to return to the dark ages, and unfortunately, military remnants that decided to turn traitor.

The last of those groups provided the most problems simply due to their equipment. Powered armor was annoying to deal with on the best of days and while the traitors didn’t have the same logistical capabilities as the Reclamation Project did, they still had enough to jury-rig repairs while looting ammo off of dead soldiers.

Soft footsteps slowly approached from behind, making the ranger turn around to see one of the latest mercenaries sauntering over confidently with that old M110 sniper rifle similarly slung over her shoulder. The woman’s coat fluttered in the air due to the gentle breeze in the air, which alongside the orange light of the nearby campfire, gave her a vaguely heroic air. Yet, the aura she projected still felt more akin to the kind of woman who worked at a bakery. 

The only thing that was out of place was that emblem sewn onto her coat where her shoulder was, some kind of power-suited soldier with a rifle. The emblem of the forces that AC, BITTER PROMISE, led.

“Oh? Hey there ranger, you not joining in the festivities?” The smiling blonde asked, holding out a tray of what looked to be baked goods. “Here, have some.”

The ranger hesitated before taking a small cookie from the tray. Inspecting the treat, he noticed it seemed to be some kind of ginger cookie. After a few more moments of slightly awkward silence, as the T-Doll continued to smile, he took a small nibble.

The taste of sugar and molasses spread across his tongue with the soft texture providing a very pleasant experience. It reminded him of home.

He forced his slightly gravelly voice to function, “Thank you.” He said quietly, giving the T-Doll a nod as he swiftly polished off the cookie before looking back out at the night sky.

The T-Doll adjusted her headwear, “It’s no problem! You didn’t answer the question though, why aren’t you celebrating with everyone else? We just managed to clear the Vegas Strip after all, we all deserve a break!”

“...Perhaps. But I want to remain clean, of everything, alcohol included.” The ranger sighed, taking off his red beret he stared down at the hat with a faint longing.

The T-Doll blinked before her friendly gaze turned into something more sympathetic having already noticed the atmosphere. Odd, how he was now being pitied by a robot.

“Did you lose someone today?” She asked softly.

The ranger remained silent but shook his head. Still, the T-Doll seemed to read something on his face.

The T-Doll stepped forward, putting her tray of baked goods on a nearby table. “I’m sure they’re okay.” She said as she put a surprisingly warm hand on his shoulder. The sound of celebration seemed to grow fainter.

“I don’t need your pity.” The ranger eventually said.

“You don’t.” The T-Doll nodded as she guided the man to sit down on a stray rock, who reluctantly did so. “But I can still listen can’t I?”

The ranger had no response.

The mercenary changed the subject, “My name’s M110 or Clara as my new friends call me, how about yours?”

“Isn’t the first name the gun you’re using?” He asked, slowly turning his head to look at her.

M110 chuckled, the sound soft and melodic.

“Yes, it is. But I used to be called that before I got the name Clara so I’m used to it. Got the name from when I used to be employed by Griffin and Kryuger.” 

“...Huh.” The soldier looked back up at the night sky. The stars shone down on the two of them, twinkling in that way that only they could.

The two sat in silence, letting the wind run by and blow the strands of their hair in odd directions.

“Rhett.”

“Hm?” M110 tilted her head, “That’s a much more normal name than I thought.”

Rhett snorted, “Unlike T-dolls, humans tend to have more normal names. What did you even think my name was?”

She looked at his short black hair, the slight tan of his skin and his hazel eyes staring back at her. The T-Doll’s eyes narrowed.

“You look like a Wolfram.”

Rhett sputtered, “What? What kind of name is that?”

“A cool one.” M110 grinned while picking up her tray again, “Want some more?”

Rhett sighed, but took another cookie.

“Haven’t even heard of someone named that before.” Rhett responded. Taking another, he savored this one, taking small bites to make the experience last longer. 

Perhaps it was the atmosphere or the kind demeanor but Rhett began to speak once more.

“I was just remembering… before all this.” He gestured out at the desert. The woman remained silent, simply tilting her head and listening.

“Lost my family back then.” Before he felt like she would interrupt, Rhett elaborated, “Not from the war, they managed to get out to the East Coast, but I wasn’t allowed to see them.”

“I wasn’t clean at the time. It was only when I was conscripted by the military that I was forced to go clean. That and the war made it hard to get my usual fix. It was good too, considering I kept thinking I was invincible whenever I was high and end up doing dumb shit.” 

He took another violent bite of the cookie.

“You miss them?”

“I do. Now that my head is back on straight, I want to be a decent father.” He admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, “Not that they’d even accept me back anyway. The last thing my kids remember of me is being dragged away in a cop car. And I don’t want to ruin the life they’re probably living right now.”

“I see.” M110 said softly, not judging or pitying him, but simply comforting. The warm hand in his shoulder gripped Rhett a bit tighter.

“I’m not sure how your family would react but I think, you’ve definitely changed. Maybe not quite a second chance or a do over but, you can still help them.”

“How?”

“Keep going here. Make the country just a little bit safer for them. Then once you get back, you can figure out the rest.”

Rhett took a deep breath, holding it for several seconds before letting it out.

“I’ll think about it.”

Her grin grew a little wider.