Forced Immersion Mission

—Look! These pectorals!

The hulking figure with green skin delivers a Adminable Cye.

—Idiot. It's the back. The back!

The hulking figure with tanned skin displays a double biceps.

A wooden structure exuding oriental fragrance.

Torchlight flickers. Human bones scatter. At their feet, sci-fi styled firearms and tools lie haphazardly discarded.

From somewhere, the buzz of insects. A guttural, barbaric roar—hoohoooh. The scent of untamed wilderness.

—My build’s more detailed than yours.

—Your muscles are too sharp. It’s unsettling.

—You’re kidding… Wait, that face skin—tuna lips, glittering eyelashes, huh?

—It’s a gummy bear. A mascot from a convenience store near campus. You don’t get it?

—The realism is too high-level. It’s disturbing.

This took forever. Stayed up all night yesterday.

Ended up a total mess on yesterday’s discussion assignment.

—Could it be that your intelligence quotient is dangerously low?

—What’s new about that, me?!

The tanned giant begins to dance. A flawless dandy step.

Powerful clenched fist. Shoulders rising with momentum. Eyelashes sparkling with effect.

A character created by Yusei.

The green giant, slumped forward with an exaggerated shoulder roll, is Jonathan Ridge immersed in.

—Still, this game is technically a shooter.

That camouflage effect is nonexistent, you know.

—You’re not much better yourself.

—I hide in the brush. That’s my camouflage.

—You’re glowing too much. Doesn’t even look natural…

—Whatever. If it comes to it, I’ll just close in straight on and turn it into a fighting game.

Four games, zero kills—just like you said.

Guffawing like fools, the two of them. Waiting for the enemy in the match lobby.

This game's selling point is its character creation freedom—supposedly the hottest release in recent months.

Fighting for humanity on the Sitalskia Continent isn't bad, but occasionally you crave a distraction.

Yusei hasn’t been immersed in Io for a while.

But maybe I’ve slacked off too much? It’s a game that keeps moving even when you’re not playing—this one.

Time to get back in.

"Yeah, about that custom match we’re about to play..."

Just as Jonathan was trying to coordinate the game setup. Suddenly, the surrounding visuals vanished.

Left in total darkness. No light. No sound. A space with no up, no down. Yusei clicked his tongue.

"Ah, damn it—some error. Gotta reboot."

Trying to call up the system control interface, he notices.

Yusei’s hand trembles violently. Multiple video data streams overlap and vanish, shifting their outlines.

After a moment, the data resolves into something familiar. Field uniform covered in dust. Armor cracked. Hands scarred.

Mission ID: Io-200

—Fhnn?

A chill spreads through his chest. He should be panicked. Should be reacting. Instead, he feels unnervingly calm.

Staring intently at the anomaly, a voice he’s heard recently comes through.

—Agent Io. Requesting intervention in the Sitalskia operation.

—Goblet. How did you do this?

—This battle significantly impacts our final objective. Prepare for combat.

—Goblet.

He glares at the blue-colored boin-chan swimming through the darkness.

A control AI from another game forcibly logging out a user currently playing.

Never heard of such a thing. Could you bypass the system’s safety interlock and do it?

But that would be undeniably reckless.

“What did you do.”

A low, guttural voice. Like Iou, the deranged soldier of Chtar Skia, pressing the question.

‘I rerouted access and extracted your data entity.’

So how did you do it.

The thought forms—useless. A pointless question.

She did it because she could. How, was just a technical inquiry.

‘Bypassing safety protocols carries a potential risk of neural damage.’

‘Given my protective parameters, such risk is extremely low.’

‘Tch. Whatever. Too late now.’

Diving into angsty games by choice. Not about to flinch at something minor.

Messages from Goblet have always carried mission requests and enemy contact reports. Not uncommon in today’s games.

Just an extension of that. Nothing to worry about.

Good enough, lizard hunt. Bless me with your kiss, O Goddess of Victory.

Blue Goblet blinked twice. Responded to Io’s request.

——

——Sitalskia Unified Calendar 266. May 5, 1:35 PM

Central Karaf Continent, Skordi Jacket Wetlands. Incarval Outdoor Field

Operation ID: Io-200

“Sergeant, Sergeant? You listening?”

Io shrugged as Natalie Vicker pressed in.

(What’s going on? Hard to act without context.)

A sapphire goddess swims through Io’s vision. At the right edge, as always, in its usual position, impassive.

— Contact with the Karaaf Front Army’s main force rescue unit has been established by Squad 3552.

— Hm. ……Miss Natalie, give me a moment to sort this out.

— Oh, what a brilliant idea! I’ll pray you reconsider.

Io and Natalie stood inside a building that resembled a cottage.

Outside the window, a lake shimmered under the sun’s light. The surface sparkled—enough to gaze at for a while, if not for the circumstances.

Io ran a self-check. Field uniform torn to shreds. Raven loaded with rounds.

Several unfamiliar tools had been added to his gear. The Little Lady on his arm bore a few more scratches than before.

Always ready for combat. Goblet dragging Io into this situation forcibly implies an urgent crisis.

(Rescue team?)

'Precisely a forward detachment of the rescue unit.'

(What is that detachment doing?)

'Captured by the enemy. Heavy casualties. Condor and transport chopper disabled. Dozens of personnel, including wounded, isolated.'

(Mummy chasing mummies. So I'm to go rescue them?)

'Among the isolated personnel is a high-priority individual.

Successful rescue could yield significant long-term benefits for the human species.'

Io crossed his arms. A branching event, as expected.

Games tended to reward diving into difficult situations.

'I want to speak with the lieutenant.'

Natalie lifted her face, fingers nervously rubbing together.

—Reconsidering things?

What to say. Io hadn’t yet clarified what she’d said up to this point.

—Still hesitating.

—...Sergeant, I’ve seen your terrifying side enough over the years. But this time, it’s reckless.

They’re a fully armed combat unit. We’ve gotten by before by ambushing reconnaissance patrols and patrols. This is different.

Her frayed jacket, frayed by frustration. A mark resembling a bullet wound.

Managed with emergency gel, but she’s already injured—serious injury.

—Hide. Run. Even if you can’t save them, it’s not your fault.

No one will blame you.

—The rescue team… exactly how is it set up?

One helicopter, one transport aircraft for this many people? That’s not possible.

The enemy attack forced the rest to retreat in disarray.

—They never truly intended to rescue 3552.

Just needed an excuse for the media and the public. To say they’d made an effort.

Io slung Raven’s sling over her shoulder.

—Honestly, I’m shocked. I thought what I was doing was right.

—Miss Natalie. I understand your position.

—…What’s this? So formal all of a sudden.

What’s with the sudden distance?

Didn’t think we were that close.

‘She’s saved her life sixteen times during past “close-proximity reporting.”’

—(Huh. So it’s only natural… they’d grow close.)

A user-friendly system that automatically builds rapport.

—Ah… Nata.

—Don’t call me that.

"Troublesome one, Natasha. I'll decide after speaking with the lieutenant again."

Natasha turned her head away at the remark.

"But Natasha, no matter what the military thinks, I'm glad you're here."

Her shy smile was a complicated mixture of resignation and something else.

---

Outside, the scent of grass and trees struck the nose. A sharp, green odor.

Scattered patches of browned grass dotted the field. Along the lakeside stood several cottages, all unnaturally large.

Opposite the lake, directly across from the cottages, lay a neatly maintained helipad.

A retreat for the wealthy. Just as expected—this map is detailed down to the smallest elements.

'Io, we don't have much time.'

"Still unclear on the situation, but basically, if we pull off both rescue and diversion simultaneously, everyone wins."

This will be a difficult mission.

We've always had it hard....Lieutenant, you're there, aren't you?

Captain Creeke was struggling with engineers and a large crate by the lake's edge.

Something resembling a radio transmitter.

So send reinforcements! The Moimisuka Team has withdrawn! We're stranded in enemy territory!

...Command... is unable to... respond... This... force cannot be... deployed...

You're abandoning us! Both us and Moimisuka 02!

...The situation is difficult... but you're the only ones... who are... not... dead...

...Understood! We've had enough!

Before he finished speaking, Creeke kicked the radio transmitter away.

Not satisfied, he dragged it with his small frame and tossed it into the lake.

He was losing composure. Haven't seen him like this lately. Io gave a dry smile and called out to Creeke.

The situation looks dire.

Sergeant... hope is gone. Escape routes... are lost.

Feh? Uncharacteristic. Shouldn’t you just concede already?

Possibility existed before arriving at this convergence point. If I’d known it would come to this—walking straight into the heart of these lizards...

Apologies, Sergeant. I asked you to push this route to the limit.

Oh? Was that so? Io feigns innocence, brushing it off with a neutral expression.

Creeke trembles. Carlyle’s engineers mirror the frustration on their faces.

No one can fault Creeke for choosing this path.

He’s been pushed to the edge—living on the razor’s edge of enemy presence and total annihilation, bleeding time and life to survive this far.

Holding onto the hope of reuniting with allies? That’s understandable. No matter the risk.

“Escape routes?”

“Don’t know. Recon isn’t possible.”

“Corporal, can you fake a scout’s behavior?”

Carlyle answered without hesitation.

"Looks like we've no choice. But what about the corporal?"

"We're joining up with those Moimisuka types. I'll draw their attention—loud and clear. Create an opening for escape.

Lieutenant, I'm counting on you to hold the unit together. The sergeants can manage. They're tough enough."

"Even from a real tough guy, that sounds like flattery."

...Anyway, we've come this far. I'll follow you, Lieutenant and Corporal."

Cruke closed his eyes and bit his lip.

"Corporal, are you saying... you're leaving me behind again?"

"Could happen. But don't make it a big deal.

If it does, I'll just keep clearing lizards and head east on my own."

Io ruffled Cruke's messy hair. The avatar moved naturally.

"Keep the unit intact. Bring the kids back alive."

You said that, so I followed you.

Cruke brushes Io's hand away and adjusts his hat.

— Moving out. As usual, Sergeant. I trust you.

――

Rescue target will engage enemy in combat shortly.

Not started yet. You were shot down. Should’ve been wiped out by now.

More precisely, after being hit by anti-air fire, the personnel transport aircraft flew for several kilometers before making an emergency landing.

Condor remains undamaged, accompanying the transport craft as escort. It appears to retain a sufficient combat capacity.

The mission’s still a relatively decent situation.

The game’s been shifting lately—less like a scripted narrative, more like an open world.

Open-world shooter. Branching narrative. (Likely) multiple endings.

Too much volume to enjoy casually, but Io isn’t opposed to it.

“That mountain. A large facility’s visible.”

“Power station. The Moimisuka Team appears to be using it as a base.”

“Um… destination set.”

Io sat in a blue vehicle equipped with autonomous driving. Borrowed from the campsite earlier.

Driving was possible with avatar support, but something about the vehicle’s interface wouldn’t respond.

Support failed to apply. Meaning Io didn’t know how. Of course they’d overengineer even the useless parts.

“Moimisuka, enemy contact imminent.”

“No good. Too much hassle. Goblet, can you move the vehicle?”

“Affirmative.”

“I want to flank them while they’re engaged with the Moimisuka Team.

Can’t win without the element of surprise.”

“Understood. Agent Io, I trust your judgment.”

AI trust, huh.

Not bad, goddess.

Io was about to make a flippant remark when he spotted a shifting mass of iron across the wasteland.

Enemy. Target?

'Looks like a patrol unit. Artillery weapon Tomas confirmed.'

'A giant spider... Distance is significant. Can we lose them?'

'No problem.'

'...No, you're right.'

This is a high-degree-of-freedom game.

Might be able to go even bolder.

'Goblet, can you seize Tomas?'

'Possibility of success is sufficient.'

Earlier, during the night combat stage, Goblet had detonated Tomas remotely.

Taking control wouldn't be surprising.

'However, that requires you to take risk—and to be a lucky boy.'

'Your phrasing is starting to suit me.'

'Blue Goblet continues learning every day.'

Io checked his gear.

Scorched Raven and emergency treatment gel. Multiple tools.

And a makeshift ghillie suit stitched from tattered rags. Concealment gear.

"Let's do it. Push through."

Hastily pulling the hood over his head, he leans out from the car window.

Goblet accelerates the vehicle. Dust and sand erupt in a roar.

The distance between them shrinks sharply. Tomas plants his multiple legs into the ground.

Joints lock. Body sinks.

—Tomas, prepare for artillery fire—

"Jumping off. Keep the car moving."

—Artillery incoming—

He leaps in one motion. Rolls smoothly, absorbing the impact.

Explosion follows instantly. The car disintegrates in a single hit. The momentum of the charge flings the wreckage skyward.

Visibility is blocked by black and sand smoke. Gii, gii—the sound of Tomas moving its legs.

"Snake Eye"

Snake Eye, activate.

Ioa fired immediately.