Death Stranding: The Official Novelization, Volume One

EPISODE IV – FRAGILE

Sam couldn’t believe it was a lake.

Even though it had been several hours since the boat had left the port at Port Knot City, he was still having trouble digesting his surprise.

All he could see from the deck of the transport ship crossing Ground Zero was the horizon. This place was an enormous hole bored into ground; a gigantic crack that symbolized the division of America. Sam still couldn’t get his head around the fact that it was now a lake. Nor how it was formed in one fell swoop by the huge explosion that marked the beginning of the Death Stranding. He wondered how many people had been wiped out that day. How much energy had been spent?

All that was left was the vast crack that was etched into this land.

Someone had once called it a sea.

Bridget had talked about it a long time ago. (Hey, that was me.)

This land embraced a sea at its center. The dead crossed from the depths of the sea to the Beach and became stranded. This land and this country connected to the world of the dead at their center. (Someone said something about it. They had said that it was a real-life Dirac Sea.)

If the land was surrounded by sea, we could just build breakwaters or something to keep any potential intruders out. But, Sam, this sea is connected to the center of this world. And the Beach that connects to it lies at the center of us. If we’re not careful, we’ll be swallowed up by our own sea. That’s why we can’t protect ourselves with breakwaters. We need to build a bridge to cross this sea, not walls. Do you understand, Sam? Everyone holds on another’s hands so that no one drowns and so that we can rescue those that have.

“We’ll arrive at the west bank tomorrow.”

Fragile had appeared beside Sam. Her black-gloved hands gripped the handrail that ran along the deck.

She was the one who had arranged this ship. All the ships belonging to Port Knot City had been destroyed due to escalating terrorism in the region. The only ships still in service belonged to her company, Fragile Express. The crew was made up of Fragile’s people, but Bridges had promised to provide resources like fuel to get the ship running. Deals were no longer cut using economic principles. Ever since the government had fallen, people were no longer motivated by money.

Money may have connected people as a sort of lingua franca, but it also relied on a collective backbone. Once that had gone, connections reverted back to a more primitive form: people and resources. Things you could see. Things you could touch. That’s how people began to trade again. However, even though primitive forms of trade and economics were taking place, people couldn’t stop being human.

“Snack?”

Fragile offered Sam a cryptobiote. A bug that resembled a rhinoceros beetle larva was squirming between her fingertips. It was just like back in that cave.

Sam sighed and shook his head. Fragile popped the bug into her mouth with a smile.

Fragile had turned up again at the Port Knot City dock after she had evaded the blow from Higgs. Her expression seemed to say that she knew Sam would be able to kill the BT.

Sam couldn’t understand Fragile’s actions and intentions, but he had her arrange a boat anyway. He still didn’t know if he could trust her or if she was just using him.

“You saw that asshole too, right?” Fragile asked.

It was obvious to Sam that Higgs and Fragile shared some kind of connection.

“Higgs. He’s the leader of a separatist group,” Fragile continued.

“Seemed to me like he was controlling that BT.” As far as Sam knew, there wasn’t a person alive with that kind of ability.

“That’s a level seven for you. Higher, maybe.” Fragile looked up at Sam. He couldn’t stand that kind of meaningful stare, so he moved away from the handrail.

“Used to work together.” Fragile’s voice followed Sam. “Guess you could say we had a contract.”

“You did business with terrorists? Whoever pays, huh?” Sam couldn’t keep the sharp tone out of his voice.

“He wasn’t like that back then,” Fragile replied.

“So what’s your angle? You wanna save the world? Or you wanna fuck it all up like him?”

Fragile gasped and Sam immediately felt bad for being so harsh.

“I wish I—I just wish things were different, alright?” Fragile’s voice was stiff and quiet, yet it was not extinguished and her tone almost sounded like she was trying to convince herself. Sam didn’t have any right to pry into whether there was anything between Fragile and Higgs right now. He removed his backpack and sat down on the rusty bench that was fixed to the deck.

He had forgotten the weariness and pain. The scars left by the impact of the BT’s tentacles, the aches in his toes where the nails had been ripped off—it soon all flooded back. Sam loosened the laces on his boots and removed the BB pod. He undid the fastenings on his suit and untied his hair. He wanted to get a little more comfortable.

“I told you before, Sam. The past just won’t let go.” Fragile peered at Sam and held a scrap of paper aloft.

It was a picture of three people. Bridget was in the center and still in good health. She was standing between a stiff-faced Sam and another woman. Sam wondered when he had dropped it. It had happened in the cave with Fragile before, too.

He gave Fragile a look of appreciation and took the picture from her.

The face of the woman to the left side of Bridget had faded after it had been exposed to the timefall, but Sam could still recall it vividly in his mind’s eye. Yet he still couldn’t bring himself to look at the woman’s swollen abdomen. Nor could he look at the handwritten signature in the corner made up of “Strand” and “Bridget.”

Why didn’t the timefall do me a favor and erase that instead?

—I told you before, Sam. The past just won’t let go.

“Listen, I have something to ask of you.” He could hear Fragile’s voice, but couldn’t tear himself away from the picture. “It has to do with that asshole, Higgs.”

A strong wind blew, ruffling Sam’s hair. Fragile’s umbrella spun gently in the breeze.

—Can you hear me, Sam?

Sam heard a clatter against the wood of the deck and opened his eyes. It looked like he’d fallen asleep.

He wiped away some tears that he had shed for some unknown reason and looked up. A vivid red flooded his vision.

“Sam.”

Amelie was stood in front of the bench, clad in red. She smiled and stared at him as if to block any doubts or questions. In her hand, she held the photo Sam had dropped.

The skies had turned cloudy and gray and the surface of the lake was reflecting a muddy light. In a world in which all color seemed to have seeped away, Amelie in her bright red dress looked like the only thing alive.

“Sam,” she whispered once more. As if entranced by her voice, Sam stood up and walked over to the handrail on deck. A pod of whales followed the side of the ship as golden sparks were scattered by them.

It was a dream.

The ship was still headed for the shore. But this was not Ground Zero.

If the ship kept on like this, it would get stranded on the Beach.

“Do you remember?” Amelie pointed toward the shore. Dozens of whales and dolphins were lying on their backs where the waves broke. Lying next to them was the small figure of a person face-down in the sand. It was a little boy. It was Sam. The grown-up Sam was looking at his younger self collapsed on the Beach. No, wait, he was remembering something about Amelie and his younger self.

“It’s almost time to go, Sam.”

The little Sam woke up when Amelie called him.

Since he had fallen asleep on the Beach, half of his face was covered in grains of sand. Amelie took Sam by the arms and picked him up. He could feel Amelie’s warmth through his back, and realized for the first time that he was shivering from the cold and the loneliness that threatened to overflow from his small body.

Amelie hugged Sam as he trembled.

“It’s so warm.” Sam couldn’t help but blurt it out. Amelie smiled and wrapped her arms around him more tightly.

“I had no idea until you told me…” Amelie whispered into Sam’s ear. He was close enough to catch the scent of her hair as he looked out to sea. The Fragile Express ship had disappeared somewhere, but this small Sam wasn’t worried.

“No idea that I was alive. Living is no different from being dead if you’re all alone.”

Sam couldn’t hold back his tears. Her words scared him. They were going to be sorted into either the living or the dead. He was struck by the feeling that he had to get out of here.

“I don’t wanna go home,” Sam pleaded with no one in particular. His falling tears mixed with the sand on his face, creating muddy patches. He shook off Amelie’s hands as she tried to wipe his tears away, and ran toward the sea.

“I don’t wanna go home!” His words were swallowed up by the ocean as the waves drowned out his faint voice.

Amelie came after him and crouched down beside him. As she stared into Sam’s eyes, he noticed she was holding something in her right hand.

“Here. It’s a dreamcatcher.” Amelie hung the dreamcatcher around Sam’s neck. It was a decorative piece made up of parts that resembled a spider’s web, or maybe even a star shape. When Sam touched it, he felt strangely comforted.

“Wear it when you sleep, and I’ll keep the nightmares away. I’ll always be with you.” Amelie held Sam’s hand that was clutching the dreamcatcher. The dreamcatcher started to grow bigger in his hand and poke out through his grip. The mesh began to cover Sam’s hand, then Amelie’s hand, before eventually their entire bodies were covered with it. They were inside a cocoon, and inside Sam and Amelie melted into each other, completely protected from all evil. Inside the mother’s womb, they were neither alive nor dead. He was filled with the sweet sensation that he had become one with the world.

“Did you forget how to go home?” Amelie’s voice cut through this sweet world. It was a line that separated the worlds of the living and the dead. The crouching Amelie stood up and pulled Sam by the hand. He had to go back. He had to leave this space between life and death and return to the world of the living.

“Come on. I’ll take you halfway. And then you can do the rest by yourself.”

Sam looked up at Amelie and began to walk.

“Better now?” she asked.

Sam nodded assuredly and Amelie readjusted her grip on his hand.

“I’ll be waiting for you on the Beach. Come and find me.”

The pair walked on toward the sea. Then they parted and Sam returned alone.

Amelie was left all by herself on the Beach.

Sam had no idea how many times he had been through this with her. Just as a shoreline that distinctly separates the sea from the land didn’t exist, the line between the child Sam and the present Sam was also blurred.

That’s why he was no longer on the deck of Fragile’s cargo ship. That was why he was on the Beach.

”We used to play together a lot in this place,” Amelie muttered as she watched their younger selves disappear into the waves.

“You brought me here. I couldn’t make the trip on my own,” Sam muttered back.

“So long as you have a body to return to, you can’t come and go as you please…” Amelie replied.

On the other hand, Amelie spent most of her life on this beach, in this space that had been liberated from the constraints of the real world. In a certain sense, this beach was like an embodiment of Amelie’s character.

“So, you can’t just come back east through here?” Sam asked.

Amelie shook her head. “Not until you make us whole again, Sam.”

Amelie’s body was suddenly enveloped in a black shadow. A whale breached through the water’s surface behind her. As it soared through the sky, it tried to swallow Amelie up. Sam stretched out his arms to try and save her but simply passed straight through her. The shadow became blacker and blacker until all was dark, and the only bit of color that Sam could see was the red of Amelie’s dress.

“I’ll be waiting for you on the Beach.” Her voice was drowned out by the song of the whale. Its enormous body sank back into the ocean and the shadow cast over Amelie disappeared. The surface of the ocean heaved and rained down on her. Amelie’s hair, her clothes, and the whole of her body was drenched as she shed a tear.

The ocean’s surface surged once more like there was a mountain erupting underneath, and the whale’s head reappeared. But it wasn’t the whale. Fragile Express’s cargo ship was trying to run itself aground. As it tore through the waves, it made a beeline for Amelie.

“Come and find me.”

Amelie!

Sam’s scream didn’t reach her. His arms didn’t reach her. All that Sam could touch was empty darkness.

LAKE KNOT CITY

Sam was thrown out of the dark and awoke.

The vibrations of the ship traveled through the deck. Sam’s back was stiff after falling asleep on the bench. He cracked his spine and stretched, then got up. The ship had already crossed Ground Zero and had arrived at port. He could hear the sound of people’s voices and heavy machinery below him. They were probably unloading the cargo. Sam wiped away the tears he had shed during his sleep. Then he scowled at the weird smell that had invaded his nostrils. It was the smell of chiral matter.

Sam felt strange. Where am I?

“I don’t know how you sleep.”

He remembered that he was on Fragile’s ship.

Fragile looked amazed as she stared at his barely awake face and offered him a cryptobiote.

“Need a pick-me-up?”

Sam shook his head, feeling a little relieved. Fragile understood and ate the cryptobiote herself. This familiar exchange brought him back down to earth.

“Welcome to Lake Knot City.” Fragile smiled. They had finally made it. Sam stamped his boots to make sure that he was no longer in a dream world or back on Amelie’s beach. He didn’t remember putting them back on, though.

Sam felt the stiffness of his pack against his back. When did I put that back on?

Perhaps he had put everything back on in a trance, now that it had all become so routine. He groped around his chest, but the photo he always kept concealed there was gone. It was the same photo that he had dropped and Fragile had recovered. The past that he couldn’t escape. It had vanished. He searched the pockets of his uniform and had a look around the deck, but it was nowhere to be found.

“What?” Fragile asked.

Sam wanted to break away from his past, but he knew that parting with that photo would make him feel uneasy. He was fully aware that it was somewhat of a childish sentiment to have, and that was part of the reason why he didn’t want Fragile to pick up on it.

Sam simply muttered a, “Nothin’,” and kept on walking.

“Let’s go.” Fragile opened her umbrella and led the way. As he stared absentmindedly at her back, he realized that it was smaller and more delicate than he had first thought. He wondered if her delicate frame had something to do with her name.

“This cargo’s from Port Knot City, bound for Lake Knot. I’ll leave these up to you. The dispatch terminal is up ahead.”

The containers that had been unloaded from the cargo ship were arranged neatly in a line.

“In the meantime, I’ve got some business to attend to. Later, alligator.” Fragile walked away, playfully spinning her umbrella as she went. Sam turned back toward the cargo to check the contents.

“Thank you, Sam.” The hologram of Amelie that the delivery terminal projected flickered.

Even though he had now crossed Ground Zero and progressed much further west, Amelie’s image was still fuzzy and unstable.

“It’ll only get harder from here, though. When we first came through, it was different. Peaceful,” she warned.

The static echoed loudly around the cargo collection area. Sam couldn’t help but cover his ears and close his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, he was all alone. Amelie had disappeared.

“The three cities out there—Lake, Middle, and South Knot—were all on board with our plans for reconstruction.”

He could still hear Amelie’s voice but her hologram had been replaced with a 2D projection of a simplified map of America. To Sam’s right was a hole that represented Ground Zero, the lake that he had just crossed. On the left-hand side, on what would have been the lake’s west bank, was Lake Knot City. Middle Knot City was displayed to the northwest, and south of that city lay South Knot City.

“Once these three cities and some surrounding facilities are activated using the Q-pid and connected to the Chiral Network, transmissions between the central region will begin to stabilize. At least, that’s the plan.”

The terrain flipped over, revealing a new map.

One of the cities that had been shown on the map, Middle Knot City, had disappeared and was now marked with a black spot.

It was like a brand-new miniature version of Ground Zero had been added to the map. When Sam looked more closely, he could see that several other smaller black spots had been added, too. They all marked areas where acts of terrorism or actions to obstruct the reconstruction of the UCA had taken place.

At this rate, these black spots would multiply until they swallowed up the entire continent.

“Then the separatists began to get in the way.”

Sam couldn’t be sure if it was the instability of the transmission or if Amelie’s voice was trembling.

“First, they took out Middle Knot City. They detonated nukes from the old days. They sneaked them in with the goods brought into the city.” Amelie’s voice began to sound even more depressed and the static seemed to whine in sympathy.

“And it didn’t end there. Or rather, we couldn’t stop it there. Next, they attacked South Knot City. Luckily, it wasn’t completely destroyed, but a lot of people still lost their lives that day.”

The entire area was motheaten with holes. Sure, if Sam connected the infrastructure left behind by Bridges I using the Q-pid then he could activate the Chiral Network, but what would be the point if the cities and facilities had already been destroyed? Sam didn’t have the means or the resources to fix any of them, and neither did Bridges. But there was no way that Bridges would have just left things as they were. The dots spread across the map were clusters of black holes. They connected to form an ominous-looking constellation in the shape of a monster that threatened to swallow the entire world. Sam remembered the cold laugh that rang out from behind Higgs’s golden mask.

“Fragile Express used to help us with deliveries in this area.”

The map lit up with white spots in response.

“Fragile and the others were already taking on orders in this region, so we signed a contract with them and had them move our cargo, too. It was actually Fragile Express who established the distribution systems in this area, which is why a lot of people don’t even think that we need a country like the UCA if we just want to survive. Those people are isolationists. We call them ‘preppers.’”

Sam, of course, knew what preppers were. In fact, as a porter, he was very well acquainted with them. For freelance porters, it never mattered whether jobs were coming from preppers or some kind of organization. It was only really Bridges that still cared about the concept of nations, while the separatists who opposed it formed the other side of the coin. They were the only two parties concerned by it. The preppers had cut themselves off entirely.

Although, maybe not completely entirely. They relied on lifelines from organizations like Fragile Express and other freelance porters. Perhaps “isolationists” wasn’t the most accurate word to describe them.

“In this state, even if you were to bring all the Bridges facilities online, the Chiral Network wouldn’t be able to cover this area,” Amelie admitted.

“What do you need me to do?” Sam asked the hologram, which had taken its place back from the map.

Just a little while ago, Sam would have probably said they should quit and there was no forcing it. Even if they couldn’t turn a blind eye to terrorism, there were still those who would simply take exception to the rebuilding of “America.” Was there really such a need to reconnect people who showed such resistance? Destruction and restoration. Even though they existed in completely opposite vectors, it was always those two major forces that were vying to change the state of this world. Sam still had mixed feelings in the back of his mind.

“I can’t go back unless you connect all the way up to here.”

The whole reason that Sam had taken the Q-pid and headed west was because of Amelie.

“We need to secure the support of everyone—even those who want nothing to do with the UCA, impossible as that may seem.”

The gold necklace that hung on Amelie’s chest glinted in the light. Strangely, that light was the only vivid part of the hologram.

“But—” Sam was unable to finish his sentence, as the transmission was cut abruptly and Amelie’s hologram disappeared. The words he had been about to utter never had a chance to reach Amelie’s ears.

“It’s just as you heard, Sam.” It was Die-Hardman. Amelie’s hologram had been replaced by the director in his black iron mask.

“The destruction of Middle Knot in particular forced us to adopt a new strategy. It’s like Amelie said. We don’t have the time or resources to construct another knot on that scale. That’s why we’ve taken to cutting deals with preppers and the like. Our only recourse is to utilize their shelters to bolster the strength of the network.”

“Takes a special kinda person to live out here on their own. The kind that’ll tell us to fuck off if we ask ’em to join the UCA,” Sam retorted.

“Oh, we know. No one’s expecting them to say yes up front. Most of the preppers around there have contracts with Fragile Express. If a porter like you from Bridges were to try and enter a shelter, you would probably get stopped by security.”

Die-Hardman’s hologram disappeared and was replaced by a map like Amelie’s before him. The white spots marked where the preppers had shelters.

“We have always held a collaborative relationship with Fragile Express. It doesn’t matter how the preppers feel, because we co-own that delivery system. Bridges I also updated the delivery terminals in the shelters to make them compatible with the Q-pid, based on how things worked when the Chiral Network was up before. People are human, so they inevitably die someday. It doesn’t matter what principles or ideals they hold, if their bodies aren’t properly disposed of, they become BTs. I would love nothing more than for them to join the UCA, but I want at least to be able to know about and manage any deaths that do occur. This is a measure for that as well.”

Sam touched the cuff link on his right wrist. It was the same. Death connected everyone. With the exception of the Homo Demens, all humans shared the fear of death, repugnance for the BTs and the threat of voidouts. The system provided by the UCA was established based on death.

The director and others at Bridges (maybe even Amelie?) used this primitive and instinctive feeling to achieve their goals. Connecting people may have offered hope, but it also formed shackles.

The cuff link was a communication tool, as was the UCA system, but both shackled people as much as they joined them.

“Fragile has already pledged her cooperation in any case.” The director’s voice sounded confident.

“And in exchange, she gets?” Sam asked.

“Nothing really. A chance to get back at Higgs, I suppose. I can’t blame her for wanting one. He took everything from her and then some. Time heals some wounds, but not hers.”

Revenge? I wonder if I wouldn’t mind some of that, too?

Sam averted his eyes from Die-Hardman and stared at the ceiling. His emotions were a mix of sharp, lance-like feelings and slow-burning magma. For now, they meant nothing. He may have been harboring negative feelings, but they were the kind of feelings that needed to be directed at someone. He didn’t have anyone like that. Sure, he had some regrets, but they were because he had been torn away from someone.

He wasn’t connected to anyone anymore. He was a porter. His job was to connect people to each other, not forge connections for himself.

Once Sam was no longer lost in thought, he found himself alone in the room. The director’s hologram had disappeared. He could no longer hear the noise of the staff or the ebb of the waves.

He felt a vibration through his feet. He pressed a button in the lift and felt the floor sink as it carried him toward his private room.

The sound of the waves carried Sam off to sleep and back toward the Beach.

—Hey, Sam.

All life on this earth came from the sea, and all life will eventually return to it. That means that the sea is where the memories of this planet go to sleep. And the sea cocoons and protects the life of this planet that those memories form. The water’s edge is the line that separates life and death. For those who dwell in the sea, beyond that line is the land of the dead, but for those who live on land, the land of the dead lies back beyond the Beach.

—Hey, look, Sam.

Bodies littered the Beach in rows. Whales, dolphins, crabs. Even the carcasses of small fish that Sam couldn’t identify. All had been washed up from the sea. Even the sand itself was made up of the remains of shells, coral, and other small creatures. Amelie had told him so long ago.

The sound of the waves woke Sam up. He wiped away the sand ( you mean the decay?) that was stuck to his face and body, and stood up. He could see another corpse in the distance. The corpse of a human child.

It had been carried here by the waves and washed up on the shore. It was the memory of his past. His past was stranded. It was a phenomenon that was all too possible on the Beach.

The child’s body rose and the memory stood up and opened its mouth.

“Here.” Sam looked up at Amelie and held out both hands. In them was something that appeared to be a gold necklace. Amelie squinted as she looked at it, almost like she was blinded by it.

“For me?” she asked.

A golden charm was situated in the center of a golden chain. It was a primitively designed necklace from which finely woven golden cords dangled.

“It’s called a quipu. It means ‘knot’ in old words. You can also use it to count stuff. I add a knot when I make a friend,” young Sam explained.

“Okay. Then, how about I add another knot every time I see you?”

Sam let out a shout of joy and hung the necklace around Amelie’s neck as she crouched to accept it. Her eyes were glistening. She was crying. Sam had never noticed that back when he was a kid.

“This must be very important to you, if you were able to bring it here. Very special,” she noted.

“It is special. I made it for you.” Sam jumped up, pointing at the quipu.

“I’ll treasure it, Sam.” Amelie hugged him. Thank you, Sam.

Amelie held her face close to little Sam’s cheek and looked up. Then she looked straight at the present Sam.

The past pierced the future. Sam felt like someone had grabbed hold of his heart and he couldn’t breathe.

He let go of the dreamcatcher that he was holding tightly to his chest instead, but the pain didn’t go away.

This is something that often happens on the Beach.

“Hey, Sam.”

Fragile woke Sam up. Sam’s left hand was clutching the dreamcatcher and bent unnaturally toward his left breast. He took a deep breath and sat up. His undergarments were drenched in sweat and clung to his back. He slapped his face with both hands to try and wake himself up properly.

“Something to eat?”

As usual, it was a cryptobiote being dangled in front of Sam’s face, and as usual, he shook his head to refuse.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

Sam was in a private room in the basement of the distribution center. Fragile must have let herself in while he was asleep.

“Ask your boss man,” she replied.

Sam was more annoyed at Die-Hardman for letting her in than at Fragile herself. Once again, it seemed like Bridges had no concept of the word “privacy.”

“Got a delivery for a porter.” Fragile seemed to have guessed how irritated he was, and smiled as she opened her hand. “You’re gonna need this on the road ahead.”

It was a misanga bracelet woven from red and white fibers.

“This will ID you as an associate of Fragile Express. It’s woven from my blood and chiral crystals,” Fragile explained.

It was a Fragile Express ID, a pass that contained a porter’s biological information. All sorts of porters went back and forth with deliveries, and left unchecked anyone could easily sneak something dangerous into a shelter. This ID was a necessary countermeasure. But won’t that mean that I’ll be lying to them about my identity? It gave Sam pause.

“We were the only people making deliveries out here,” Fragile went on.

As if hurt by the fact that Sam didn’t immediately reach for the misanga bracelet, Fragile sat down next to him. She was so close that Sam could feel her body heat.

“This was our territory. Until Higgs fucked it all up. Me, the Express, our reputation—all of it.” Fragile’s anger wasn’t directed toward Sam at all, but toward Higgs.

“And now you want to fuck him back?” Sam asked.

He thought back to the revenge the director had mentioned. Was she really planning to offer up the reputation of Fragile Express as collateral to work with Bridges? Yielding her ID to give him access to the preppers seemed fundamentally different from the “collaborative” relationship they had maintained until now.

Sam’s mission here wasn’t to deliver goods to the preppers, but to seek their cooperation in the plan to rebuild America. That proposal had the potential to completely rewrite the entire foundation of the preppers’ existence. These were the very people that had come to rely on Fragile Express. What Fragile was about to do was akin to throwing the principles of her organization out of the window.

The only thing that Fragile could do to avoid that was to seek revenge by herself. Whatever she did, she would still end up betraying her organization, but Sam couldn’t possible see what she was hoping to get out of Bridges by doing this.

“On your own?” Sam asked.

Fragile shook her head slightly and said, “I’m not on my own. The cave. Port Knot City. Next to your bed. So far apart, yet somehow we keep meeting? All that BT country in between, where I should’ve been caught in a voidout…” Her umbrella opened above her head like magic. “Yet here I am.”

The umbrella floated softly.

Then Fragile disappeared and all that was left was an umbrella floating in the air.

“Here I am again.”

Sam heard a voice from behind him. It was only a short distance, but Fragile had teleported. There was only one other person who had that ability. Amelie. She had the extraordinary ability to freely come and go to her own Beach.

“I have a Beach. You’ve got yours, I’ve got mine.” Only Fragile’s smile remained. “I use it to jump across space.”

Fragile appeared back in front of Sam, umbrella in hand.

“I can’t conjure up BTs the way Higgs can, but I can go after him. Chase him to the Beach.”

Fragile bit down on another cryptobiote and swallowed. The color somehow seemed to have drained from her face.

“The jumps take a lot out of me. It doesn’t matter the physical distance. They suck my blood dry. So, I have to top up with these.”

It sounded like Fragile’s ability consumed her blood, or at least something within her blood. Sam had never seen anything like that happen to Amelie, so their abilities must have also been different in some way. It was pointless to question why. Just like it was pointless to ask why Amelie was born on the Beach, and why Sam could repatriate. Why did his blood affect the BTs? Sometimes Sam felt like this world was just a huge pile of whys.

But this was a world where people had to prioritize survival over the great mysteries.

Mankind hadn’t survived by striking back or preventing the blows. They had only managed to hold out by avoiding dealing with their situation entirely. That’s why they had built so many cities surrounded by great high walls to hide within.

“You’re going to Edge Knot City, right? Place is full of terrorists. But if you’re dead set on it, then you’re gonna have to deal with Higgs sooner or later,” said Fragile.

“Look, I make deliveries. Killing monsters and terrorists, that’s not what I do.”

“What if we did it together? I could use my power to help you. We don’t have to want the same thing to be on the same side.”

Sam couldn’t say yes just like that. Neither could he reject her offer so easily.

“I could ‘send’ you. Across my Beach. To any place the chiralium’s thick enough. Any place connected to the Chiral Network.”

“And what do you expect in return?” Sam asked.

Fragile closed her umbrella and sat down next to him. She was close enough that their shoulders were almost touching. Sam tried to squirm away instinctively, but she looked right at him. It was like she was silently telling him not to run.

“I expect you to think it over,” she stated.

Sam had no choice but to accept the misanga bracelet that she offered him.

“Here. Call it an incentive. And call me if you need me. This will keep us connected.”

Fragile stood up, moved toward the wall, and began to open her umbrella.

“See you when I see you.”

Then she disappeared again, leaving behind only the echo of her voice and the smile on her lips.

The terminal that Sam had booted up on the upper floor was displaying a map. Beyond it, he could hear the heavy mechanical clanging of the conveyor belt and the sorter that were funneling cases both big and small toward him.

There was much more cargo than he had anticipated, and he knew that it would take a lot of work to transport it all in one go. He shouldn’t have been too surprised, though. He was supposed to be doing a round of three shelters from here.

The points where the shelters were located were lit up on the map. The names “Engineer,” “Craftsman,” and “Elder” were displayed next to each point. They were codenames rather than official names. Sam had been making deliveries to preppers up until fairly recently, so he was familiar with the practice.

There was a reason why things had become this way. In the months and years since the Death Stranding, everything made by human hands had gradually decayed into dust because of the timefall. The land changed completely as it reverted back to wilderness, and the preppers no longer had a use for addresses. People may not have completely ceased interaction with those who were geographically distant from them, but face-to-face communication had become extremely rare, and as they had adapted to this, places had begun to adopt symbolic avatars based on the traits of their residents, rather than their official names. Sam had heard some people compare it to how people had communicated online back in the days of the Internet, but he didn’t have much idea of what that had been like.

Sam stacked the boxes in his backpack, trying to strike a balance between size and weight, and hauled it onto his back. The shoulder straps dug in and the entire weight of the pack rested on his lower back. He felt a stabbing pain run through his nail-less toes. This pain and the weight of the cargo reminded Sam that he was more than just an avatar, even if that was how everyone saw him. People were waiting for his cargo, not for him. To them, he was just a porter-shaped token. But that was fine with Sam— in fact, he liked it that way.

Once Sam had left the Lake Knot City distribution center and walked a little way, he began to see traces of past destruction. Abandoned EVs and bikes lay there with their engines ripped out and transportation trucks lay on their sides, exposing their charred underbellies. The paved road was lined with deep cracks, even reduced to rubble in some areas, as it stretched out toward the southern hills. The ruins of a gas station from a previous life stood by the side of the road. A signboard in the shape of a seashell was covered in reddish-brown rust. This region had originally been quite arid and had been left untouched by the timefall. That’s why Sam could see both the destruction left behind in the early stages of the Death Stranding and traces of destruction from just a few months ago. It was the separatists who had destroyed the bikes and trucks, but they still didn’t understand the truth of the Death Stranding that had destroyed the world as it once was.

The reason so many preppers lived in this area was also because of the absence of the timefall. BTs had never shown up here either, so as long as they could maintain supply lines, it wasn’t so difficult to survive. Even so, the ever-increasing acts of terror made it impossible for them to let their guard down. As the number of destructive incidents racked up, so did the tally of the dead. Then the dead turned into BTs and that brought the timefall. The actions of the separatists irreversibly transformed this whole area. The last remnants of the old world that had once been preserved here, like the road and the gas station, were now at the mercy of the timefall and doomed to rot and crumble away.

Sam followed the path and found his view open up completely as soon as he reached the top of the hill. He could look out over the entire west.

To the northeast, he could see large, abandoned ruins. It was the remains of Middle Knot City, which had been destroyed by a smuggled nuclear bomb. Masses of dark clouds floated in the skies above.

The codec on Sam’s cuff link activated.

The call came from Heartman. His location was only connected by a regular line, so the call was full of noise.

Heartman continued talking without waiting for a response. The static flared and Sam covered his ears.

The voice was breaking up and Sam couldn’t catch almost anything of what Heartman was saying.

<—Got it? Five, four, three—>

Instead, all he could hear was a mechanical beeping. Heartman’s panicked voice broke through.

That was the last Sam heard before an electronic beep and the codec cut out.

Sam fiddled with the cuff link to try and get the line with Heartman back, but it was no good.

He had to make sure that whatever happened, he didn’t approach Middle Knot City. He looked back at the ruins and the dark clouds and nodded.

As he descended the hill, Sam found that the paved road was gradually covered in more and more sand until it disappeared entirely, together with the remnants of the old world that he had found himself wandering. All traces of humanity disappeared with it. As he walked onward, the sand transformed into more rugged, rocky terrain. He started to feel like he was becoming more and more separate from the human world.

An object that looked like a whale brain rolled past.

It was called Earth coral, and much like Fragile’s beloved cryptobiotes, it hadn’t existed before the Death Stranding. Just like the Beach, just like the timefall, and just like the chiral clouds that rained the timefall down on the land. They were all part of this new Earth and their purpose was to eliminate any organism that couldn’t adapt. The people born with special abilities like Sam were the result. He had been forced to sit and listen to that theory so many times. All the main members of Bridges were required to have DOOMS. They were the ones entrusted to lead mankind out of the darkness as they rebuilt America.

Sam had naively believed in that mission before. He longed to be that innocent again.

Mankind’s time was coming to a close. The people with DOOMS were the flowers that bore no fruit. They were just there to make humanity bloom one last time.

Sam had accepted the fact before he had even realized. Back when he was trying to overcome his aphenphosmphobia, there was a time when he too had been a member of Bridges and had devoted his life to American reconstructionism. But that youthful enthusiasm had gone now. All he carried now was feelings of resignation as he simply walked from person to person. Over and over again. He would keep walking until all of humanity had disappeared from the Earth. Eventually, his body would wear down, and once he had delivered the last piece of cargo to the last human being, maybe then he would finally be able to rest in peace.

It was all just a step toward the death he longed for.

He finally neared the preppers’ shelter.

CENTRAL UNITED STATES

A flame flickered before the Elder’s eyes.

In an ashtray, a passport, social security ID, and a credit card were burning. The documents twisted and writhed like a small creature that had been set aflame. He positioned his face closer and lit his cigarette, the first one he had smoked in two years. It made him feel dizzy, just like the first time he had taken a puff at the tender age of fourteen.

There was no point worrying over his health any longer. Besides, it was unlikely that he would even get his hands on cigarettes ever again after this.

The flames died down, leaving only ash behind. He dropped the ashes onto the floor of the ruins. Even if he opened the window to let the smoke out, he would just find the smell of something burning outside wandering back in.

The southern night sky was glowing red. A city was burning somewhere. He wondered how many days it would go on for. A dark whirlwind of smoke snaked up into the sky. Below it raged the flames that would end America.

Beyond that inferno and beyond the borders of this country lived his elderly parents, but before disaster had even had a chance to strike, he had already known that he would never see them again.

America had closed off his path back home. His parents had placed all their hope in this country and had crossed the border to come here and have him, but they were never granted citizenship. The American child and non-American parents had subsequently been torn apart.

He wondered when the fire would stop raging, but he was about to get his answer as the skies parted and rain poured down like a flood. It extinguished the fire that was burning through the city in an instant, and made quick work of rotting away everything underneath. It was the timefall, and the beginning of the cataclysm that would come to be known as the Death Stranding.

The Elder looked up at the clouds and lit his cigarette.

Years had passed since that night when he had burned his passport and cards, and all without a single clear sky.

He had believed that it would likely have been his last cigarette, but he had never once imagined that he would never see a clear sky again. He never thought that he would live to an age older than his parents, and he certainly never expected to survive the disaster.

The monitor mounted in the basement of the shelter reported that a porter was approaching. He answered with his cigarette still in his mouth and unlocked the entrance. The sound of the footsteps descending the stairs was accompanied by a bearded man. He was well acquainted with this porter. He was the leader of Fragile Express.

He was the only person he ever got to speak to. His last friend in the world.

The man frowned and wafted his arm to chase away the tobacco smoke. He did it every single time.

The man then picked up a medium-sized case from inside the backpack that had been dropped on the floor, and set it on the table.

“Isn’t it time you quit smoking those? You’re the oldest elder in these parts,” the porter commented.

The Elder pretended not to notice and continued to examine inside the case. It contained boxes of cigarettes, smart drugs for stress relief, and packets of preserved food. It was more or less the same amount as usual.

“It’s getting harder to swing by here.” The grizzled porter laughed, lighting the smoke that he was offered. “What were you thinking, building a shelter on a cliff like this? Everyone hates it. They never want to come here.”

“Gets me personal service from the leader, though,” the Elder reasoned.

“Yeah, well, I doubt any of them would want to run a job to a sourpuss like you even if they did live close by.”

The Elder turned toward the storehouse, dragging his right leg behind him. He brought back a bottle of Aqua Vitae and a glass. “Got any news for me?”

“Yeah. Two things.” The porter picked up the glass and downed the drink in one gulp. The Elder took a sip of his own drink as he refilled the empty glass. The scent of a potato-based spirit wafted through the air.

“It looks like Bridget Strand is getting serious about rebuilding America,” the porter stated.

The alcohol left on the Elder’s tongue suddenly tasted bitter. Decades after that disaster and she still hadn’t given up? She was a megalomaniacal leader who continued to call herself the last American president.

“I heard that she formed an organization called ‘Bridges.’ They’re supposed to be the ones who’ll rebuild this country. There used to be a team directly under the control of the president, who were tasked with putting an end to the chaos after the Death Stranding. It’s just rumor, but I heard they didn’t exactly balk at stuff like assassinations or causing any other trouble. Eventually, they ended up going into research and countermeasures to help us get past the disaster. Haven’t heard much in the way of them coming up with anything useful yet, though. Someone told me they recently started researching people who have these special abilities called DOOMS. They’re supposedly more in tune with the Beach and death than normal people, and Bridges is interested in how they can sense BTs,” explained the grizzled porter.

“We build too many walls and not enough bridges.”

“You going all philosophical on me now?” The porter filled his glass.

“I just heard it somewhere before. America used to love walls. All to keep the people like me out. Split me and my parents up for good. I probably mentioned this to you before, but America wasn’t anything special in the first place.”

“Bridget reckons she formed Bridges to make bridges. Clever, right?” the porter said sarcastically.

“Amazing wordplay. But building a bridge is no good if you don’t let anyone cross it. Besides, we have all the bridges that we need in you boys.” The Elder pointed at the Fragile Express symbol on the porter’s chest. It showed a small box, cradled by skeletal hands.

“It’s one hell of a brittle bridge, though. If something were to happen to us, then you’d be on your own.”

“You are the ones who always helped us, ever since the start of all this. It didn’t matter if we were immigrants, travelers, poor… You helped us all equally. All the army ever knew was war, and all the police ever did was crack down on us. As soon as the chain of command was wiped out they were both useless.”

“I wouldn’t call America any old country. They allowed you to take up arms against your own nation, if you needed to. They guaranteed you the right to live, to freedom and hope, not just to depend,” the porter reasoned.

“Yeah, the Second Amendment. It was thanks to that so many citizens were able to slaughter each other.”

The porter took the packing rope that hung by his waist into his hand and wrapped it around his right wrist. Then he quickly tied it to the Elder’s left wrist.

“You and I are connected.” He pulled the Elder’s arm toward him. “If that leg of yours gets any worse and you can no longer walk, I’ll be the first to know, and the first to come help you out. If someone comes and attacks you, I’ll be there to protect you. But you’re going to be stuck walking with me.”

“Man is born free and everywhere he is in chains. One thinks himself the master of others, and still remains a greater slave than they.”

The porter shrugged and untied the rope. “And who’s the one who said that?” he asked.

“Ever heard of a guy called Rousseau?” The Elder poured some of the dwindling alcohol into the porter’s glass.

“Haven’t heard of any preppers called that.” The porter laughed, bringing the glass to his lips. “Can I tell you something else?”

The Elder put another cigarette to his lips instead of answering.

“I won’t be coming back here for a while. I’m gonna be a dad.” The porter took another sip of alcohol, as if he was trying to put off what he was about to broach next. “And, well, because how things have turned out, I’m gonna be the one who has to raise her. I know this puts you in a bind,” he continued sheepishly.

“Congratulations,” the Elder smiled, “and don’t worry about it. As long as I have this, I’ll be fine.” The Elder poured the rest of the Aqua Vitae into the pair’s empty glasses and made a toast.

“Thanks, she’s a girl. Gonna name her Fragile.”

LAKE KNOT CITY OUTSKIRTS // ELDER’S SHELTER

The sensor read the biological data contained within the misanga bracelet on Sam’s right wrist and permitted him entry.

The entrance was already open. The design concept was pretty much the same as the Bridges facilities. External parties like porters were only allowed into the entrance to drop cargo off, and the living quarters were concealed in the basement to make it difficult for them to penetrate if they happened to be so inclined. It was rare for the residents to come to the surface.

Once he had cleared the other sensor that had been placed at the entrance, the delivery terminal appeared.

After a few minutes the terminal activated, and the hologram of a resident popped up. The man was referred to as the Elder, and was leaning to one side as though his legs weren’t what they used to be.

“So, you’re the guy that Fragile sent? Sam Bridges from Bridges, right?”

The man’s face and voice looked and sounded completely worn out, but Sam was surprised that the man already knew Fragile had sent him. Wasn’t he supposed to be living in isolation?

“Look, can you just drop the cargo and walk right back out that door? I don’t have a grudge against you or anything. In fact, I’m grateful that you came all the way up that cliff. If you were just any old porter then things might be different, but…”

Sam dropped his backpack onto the floor and removed the cargo addressed to the Elder. He had some household medicine for him. There had been no deliveries up here for a while and it looked like the man’s stock was almost completely depleted. The delivery was likely a matter of life or death for the man.

“Bet you brought that Q-pid thing here, didn’t you? All to rebuild America. And let me guess, you want to add this shelter on your little Chiral Network? Is the medicine you’ve brought supposed to butter me up? What are you gonna do if I flat out refuse you? Threaten to take it all back?”

Sam would never be able to do such a thing. Doing so would mean admitting that he was nothing more than a Bridges puppet. He was a porter. So, Sam silently placed the cargo on the shelf.

“You got that? You know I’m not connecting to no Chiral Network and you can forget about me joining the UCA, alright?” the Elder asked, sounding surprised. Sam simply hoisted his backpack back on. He couldn’t force someone to support the movement if they didn’t want to. Sam just left the cargo behind and exited the building without saying a single word to the man. The directors and everyone else back at HQ would probably find out what had happened soon, but Sam was a porter, he wasn’t suited to being a mindless Bridges drone. They probably wouldn’t let this go. Sam himself was literally handcuffed to his mission to reconnect America using the Chiral Network and to save Amelie. And right now, he didn’t feel like he had the right to persuade this old man to join them and shackle himself to the big UCA ball and chain as well.

LAKE KNOT CITY OUTSKIRTS // ENGINEER’S SHELTER

After leaving the Elder’s shelter, Sam made his way down the cliff and headed in the direction of the next one. This prepper was known as the Engineer.

According to the information detailed in the briefing, the Engineer was a second-generation prepper who had been living in the shelter since birth. In other words, that small shelter was all he had ever known. Sam passed through the entrance and waited for the terminal to activate. Once he had finished the delivery procedures, the hologram of a young man appeared.

“You don’t look like Fragile.” He had a calm, mild-mannered voice, but Sam could still pick up notes of distrust. His expression was stiff, too. It shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise for Sam, though, since he was wearing a Bridges uniform while brandishing a Fragile Express ID.

“Oh, right, are you the porter she sent in her stead?”

It sounded like the man had cottoned on before Sam had even had time to explain. Sam was glad he didn’t have to go through the trouble of getting the man up to speed, but the Engineer’s lack of vigilance was alarming, especially when you considered the rising numbers of terrorist attacks and other incidents lately.

“I trust you. And Fragile. She told me you were coming, you see. She and the others said that a porter from Bridges would be dropping by with some new tech that was still under development. I said that if you let me have a go on it, then I might consider Bridges’ request. So how about? Do we have ourselves a deal?” The hologram of the Engineer was opening the case that Sam had brought. As he discarded all the layers of packaging, a look of sheer joy washed over his face.

“Don’t you have something else to be getting on with?” The man’s tone was more high-pitched. There was a low start-up sound from the terminal.

“You brought the Q-pid, right? Well, that’s how you’re going to activate the Chiral Network. Isn’t that the goal?”

It was almost an anticlimax to find out how easy it was to convince the Engineer to join the UCA.

“You look surprised. I heard the Elder said no. That guy is a dyed-in-the-wool prepper. But second-generation preppers like me aren’t so hung up on it. We never knew what America was like before. Did you?” The hologram disappeared and Sam could only hear his voice, meaning the man had left the range of the scanner.

“Man, I was so excited to hear about the concept behind the Chiral Network. High-capacity instantaneous communications. That’s no ordinary communications infrastructure. It goes through the Beach, right? That means that we’ll be able to access all the data from the past, too, like chiral printers and chiral computers. I don’t really get everything, but it’s still amazing. I heard they’re researching how to take fragments of information from the past and reconstruct its timeline to reproduce things in their entirety. The prototype you just delivered is going to help with that. It’s called an evo-devo unit. They’re letting me do the testing, so I’d love to try connecting to it with a Q-pid. What do you say, Sam?”

The hologram reappeared with a flushed face as the Engineer prattled on. He had probably gone off to install the evo-devo unit, or whatever it was, into the printer. There was no mistaking the fact that after being cooped up inside this little shelter all his life, the Engineer was overflowing with immeasurable curiosity about the wider world that the Chiral Network was about to show him. Having experienced the wilderness of this land and illogical domains like the Beach and the Seam, Sam thought the Engineer’s curiosity dangerous, but he decided against saying anything. Sam was more surprised that all it had taken was one little bargaining chip from Bridges to get the Engineer to join the UCA. It meant the man wasn’t isolating himself based on some bull-headed ideology.

Sam took the Q-pid from around his neck and held it out over the terminal’s receptor.

“Thanks, Sam! Now this place is a part of America, too. I have no doubt that America will be the bridgehead that connects the whole world. Now we can connect to the past, we can connect to a wider world, too.”

That was the bright side of America. It was the future that a more optimistic Sam had once looked forward to.

“Can I tell you something?” the Engineer asked. “It’s about Fragile Express. There’s a rumor going around that Fragile and the others have been helping terrorists. People are saying it was Fragile who planned the nuclear bomb attack on Middle Knot City, and the failed attack on South Knot City. That she messed around with the cargo tags and ID and slipped in the bomb. Some say she transported it into the city herself. But it’s all bullshit. I just know it. Why would an organization that’s helping Bridges rebuild America get involved with terrorism?”

Sam thought the Engineer was probably right. From the conversations he’d had with Fragile and with the director, he found it hard to believe that Fragile would get involved with terrorists. Yet he still didn’t believe her to be whiter than white.

LAKE KNOT CITY OUTSKIRTS // CRAFTSMAN’S SHELTER

The rumors Sam heard at the Craftsman’s shelter only reinforced his gut feeling about Fragile.

“No one thinks that Fragile is innocent,” noted the Craftsman, who claimed to be a non-lethal weapons maker. “Fragile Express went too far. Apparently, they even made use of her DOOMS. Didn’t you hear? I thought Bridges would be all over that? Fragile was the ringleader who brought the bomb into South Knot City. She got caught red-handed on camera at the distro center. When people hear her name they think of terrorists now. I heard some people say that they haven’t seen her around these parts since. Sounds like she’s on the run to me. Care to tell me I’m wrong?

“Frankly, we shouldn’t even have weapons capable of killing people like that in this world to begin with. Sure, MULEs and terrorists are a danger and a nuisance, but why do we need lethal weapons specifically to oppose them? Isn’t it enough to just have weapons and tools that can stop them from doing anything wrong in the first place? We need to rid the world of weapons. We can’t help accidents and disease, they’ll carry on killing no matter what we do. But we have to rid ourselves of sudden death by violence. That’s why I’ve been sat out here, developing tools that can be used for self-defense without killing anyone.”

Eventually, after rattling on about this and that, the Craftsman got down to business and refused to join the UCA, but he did agree to allow them to use his shelter as a Chiral Network node.

The Craftsman may have called himself an isolationist, but he was still working to develop non-lethal weapons. If he thought he needed them, then it seemed like he knew all too well that he couldn’t completely alienate himself from the rest of the world forever. It would catch up with him someday. It was probably also why he was so interested in the allegations against Fragile.

After leaving the Craftsman’s shelter, Sam heard the cuff link emit a quiet electronic noise to tell him that he had a message. It was from the Lake Knot City distribution center. They had a delivery request for Sam from the Elder.

LAKE KNOT CITY OUTSKIRTS // ELDER’S SHELTER

Sam had once again climbed the cliff and reached the Elder’s shelter at the top. As the terminal gradually rose from the ground, the Elder’s hologram immediately appeared alongside, as if he had been waiting for Sam.

“Thank you, Sam Bridges.” The Elder looked at Sam standing there with his empty backpack and grinned. It was surprising how youthful his smile was.

The Elder wanted Sam to pick up an item from the shelter and take it to a designated location. There was no fixed timeframe. The Elder’s only instruction in that regard was to drop it off promptly when the time came. There were other conditions, too. He had to connect the shelter to the Chiral Network before he came to pick the item up. He wasn’t allowed to ask about the date. And this was a job only for Sam.

It had already been more than a week since Sam had departed Lake Knot City to call on the preppers. Apart from the night when he had found a communal safe house, he had been camping. Not only had the injuries Sam had incurred during his encounter with the BT that Higgs had conjured still not healed, but the toenail he had torn off still hadn’t grown back either. It was sheer luck that he wasn’t near BT territory and hadn’t come face to face with any MULEs—although once he had finished his deliveries and run out of cargo at the Craftsman’s place, it was unlikely they would have attacked him anyway.

If Sam could finish this new job, then he would probably be allowed to finally rest up a bit.

“I had this dream,” the Elder said. “Not once, but over and over again. Recurring every single night… You know, I remember hearing something once. That guys with DOOMS like you dream about extinction. Well, my dream was slightly different. It was about me specifically going extinct.”

Sam thought he saw the Elder grimace. He was acting like he was trying to avoid something.

“I’ve already lived long enough. I’ve seen America alive and strong, and I’ve lived through the hell left behind after it vanished without a trace. I reckon it’s about time for me to depart this world. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to hasten my departure, I’ll go naturally, but it won’t be much longer now. And I was thinking about what I would leave behind when my time comes, so now I have a favor to ask of you, Sam. Will you listen to this old coot reflect on the past? After that, you can go ahead and connect this shelter up to the Chiral Network.”

The Elder began to talk.

He spoke about Bridges I.

LAKE KNOT CITY OUTSKIRTS // ELDER’S SHELTER

“Hold up there!” the Elder shouted toward the figure. The emaciated man in a Fragile Express uniform who was trying to exit the shelter stopped. The logo of the skeletal hands cradling a box on his back had faded. Ever since the grizzled leader of Fragile Express had died, the organization had changed dramatically. “Won’t you please tell me what happened?”

Word had reached the Elder about a huge explosion in the north. A nuclear bomb had wiped out Middle Knot City.

He had heard the bare bones of the story through the preppers’ communication networks. When Bridges I had visited, they built lots of infrastructure around Lake Knot City, which had made it easier to hear about what was happening on the outside. They had become able to send more precise delivery requests to Fragile Express. But the Elder also began to feel a worry that he had never felt before. While the amount of information that he heard had increased, he hadn’t failed to notice that the information itself was but fragments, mixed in with plenty of bullshit, rumors, and gossip.

“Is it true about what happened in South Knot City?” he asked falteringly. The man from Fragile Express stood with his back to him, still as a statue. That was enough for the Elder.

“So it was a nuke? And your boss was the one who smuggled it in?”

The man turned around. “It’s all lies. We were tricked and used. Me, my boss, every one of us.”

“But she did smuggle it into the city?” pressed the Elder.

“We don’t know exactly who planned it, but it had to be separatists. We didn’t even notice them slip it into the cargo.”

The Elder tried to read the face of the man on the monitor. It didn’t look like he was lying. He just looked angry. He looked like he was furious but just didn’t know where to target it. The Elder took a deep breath and stared at the console. That piece of equipment, too, had been brought to him by Bridges. And he had accepted it.

Ever since those guys from Bridges I had swarmed through, there had been skirmishes with the separatists. At first they just stole things from the Bridges caravan, but eventually, they went on to attack the delivery units. They originally thought it was MULEs, but when one of their facilities on the outskirts of the city was blown up, the series of events was quickly pinned on the separatists.

If we all just sit and do nothing, then the ties between people and cities will disintegrate altogether and we really will be done for. That’s why you need to join us now. That was the usual Bridges spiel told to people to convince them to join the UCA.

The first city they proposed the UCA concept to was a city called Bonneville, which was right next to Ground Zero. Eventually, they threw away that name and it came to be known as Port Knot City. Bridges put infrastructure in place and began to redistribute the supplies that had been getting held up. That was the job of the delivery troops, who used equipment called “Bridge Babies” to avoid the BTs. Then, in the not-so-distant future, they promised to set up communications by way of the Chiral Network, in addition to a whole new delivery network.

That meant a reemergence of the state. It meant the rebirth of America, a country that had not been kind to a younger Elder before the Death Stranding had changed everything.

As Bridges put more and more effort into reconstruction, the terrorist attacks grew worse and worse. It wasn’t only the facilities in town and on the outskirts anymore, but the preppers’ shelters as well that had become targets for destruction.

Bridges had installed the basic system for the Chiral Network at each shelter in the name of protecting the preppers, and urged them to join the UCA when the time to rebuild finally came. Deliveries from Fragile Express were now getting delayed, and with the interruptions in the already meager information distribution, increasing anxiety had driven the Elder to accept the system. Once the fear had taken root, there had been no way he could completely erase it.

“This area has been troubled ever since Bridges first came.”

The Elder averted his eyes from the Bridges logo that was engraved in the console. The porter from Fragile Express nodded back.

“You’re right. But they’re saying that it’s only temporary. Once the Chiral Network is up and running, they think they’ll be able to stop the separatists. That they’ll be able to prevent a tragedy like in Middle Knot City before it happens. That they’ll be able to use the communications network to build a protective wall.”

A wall, huh… America tried to build a wall a long time ago. It was because of that wall that the Elder had never been able to go back to where he belonged. That was why he had chosen to live as a prepper.

“Besides, I don’t really understand it, but they say that the Chiral Network will allow us to scan information about remote objects and output the information here with a 3D printer. If we can do that, then we won’t need to make deliveries anymore while trying not to get killed by MULEs and BTs. Even if it does make us kind of redundant.”

Maybe this was some kind of transitional period. Maybe the Chiral Network would turn out be the real deal and produce a country the likes of which had never been seen before. But it would be a long time before that happened. Plenty of time to decide whether it was worth affiliating himself with a new country.

“I’d better head out. Today’s shipment should keep you going for a while, right? These cliffs are way too hard going for me to climb too often. I’ll see you again. Don’t go dying on me in the meantime.”

That was the last time the Elder ever saw anyone from Fragile Express.

A few months later, the man was caught up in the bombing of South Knot City and got himself killed.

After finishing his story, the Elder took a deep breath and lit another cigarette. The smoke made the Elder’s hologram hazy, like he was standing behind a shimmer of hot air. Hazy like the BTs that wandered the BT territories. Sam thought he heard the BB grizzle in the pod, but when he looked down, it was still fast asleep.

“Fragile Express were the ones who saved me back then. During all that pandemonium after the Death Stranding, the one who built the refuge and supplied people like me with food, medicine, and clothing was their leader. He was Fragile’s dad, you know? It wasn’t America that saved me, so—”

The Elder burst out in a fit of coughing. After he had choked and spluttered for a while, he took another puff of his cigarette.

“The leader died very suddenly. Then Fragile took over. She used to come here a lot. This area had calmed down quite a bit at that point. Preppers like me and the people who built the cities lived in our own separate areas. The only ones who connected us were Fragile and the others. But then she changed. After her father died, she was burdened with the organization, his mission, his ideals. She was haunted by the ghost of an America that her father once knew. It was a huge weight on her shoulders.

“She couldn’t carry it all alone. That’s why she turned to that guy, Higgs. And then do you know what happened? She stopped coming here at all.

“Higgs had arrived here from the west, saying he wanted to create a land where we could all coexist, one that would take the place of America.

“The issue back then wasn’t that food and energy resources had run dry, but that they hadn’t been shared out properly. He claimed the problem was with unfair distribution and that there were plenty of resources out west. He said he would bring them here and restore this region from the brink of death.

“He said that it was possible to avoid the BTs, that the technology already existed. He said that people with certain abilities also existed, and Bridges had been gathering them all up for themselves. He said that if we could just learn to share fairly, then all our problems would be solved. Fragile believed him. She had extraordinary abilities herself and she believed that she could use them for the good of all mankind.

“But she entrusted control of those abilities to Higgs. It all went well at first. Fragile’s DOOMS allowed her to use her own Beach as inexhaustible storage. She and Higgs used to store massive amounts of cargo on it and then retrieve whatever they needed for wherever they were going. The pair still had to traverse the physical distances, but there was no need to carry the goods themselves. It was a delivery revolution.

“It was sometime after this revolution when I first started hearing about a new name in terrorism. History had repeated itself and Higgs had turned. He was no longer about building a new world of coexistence, but one of destruction. It was around that time when he began to hide his face behind that golden mask, too. He wanted a garment fit for his new authority.

“I couldn’t tell you what changed his mind suddenly, but soon enough he’d forsaken distribution for monopolization, and we found ourselves left in the dark, not being told a damn thing.

“Next thing I heard, Fragile’s DOOMS had been used to nuke Middle Knot City. And sure, they might have escaped total disaster, but her DOOMS did its fair share of damage in South Knot City a little while after as well. It didn’t even matter if she meant to or not, just by sheer virtue of having DOOMS she was caught up in it all.”

Vengeance. That word swam to the forefront of Sam’s mind once again.

Perhaps Fragile’s vengeance hadn’t been aimed at Higgs. Perhaps it was aimed at her own mistakes, at her DOOMS. Maybe she was trying to punish herself for being born into this world with those abilities. Sam could relate to that feeling.

That’s why Sam couldn’t proclaim or defend Fragile’s innocence. His own DOOMS was being used in this world in a way that Sam didn’t exactly want to be involved in, and it made him feel so hopeless that there was nothing he could do about it.

“But, you know, Sam, I’m guilty of the exact same crime. I’m also a nuclear terrorist. I pretended to be an isolationist on the outside while still relying on the state. I installed the Bridges system because I was scared of all the terrorism and the fighting, and that in turn enhanced Fragile and her crew’s delivery system. But that just stimulated more deliveries between the preppers and the cities and opened up new holes in security. It was our dependence that destroyed that city. Connections are fragile, but it’s no good just making them stronger. They need to be treasured and treated carefully. The old leader of Fragile Express saw that. It’s why he named his organization and daughter the way he did. But it looks like I was a little late on the uptake… I think I wanted to get back at America after it took my family away from me. But I was just being childish. I depended on Fragile, I depended on the fact that America had collapsed. Getting back at the state, rejecting the state… that means living and dying alone.

“People can’t do that. At least, I can’t. Even after I die, I need someone to help incinerate my corpse. That’s something else I realized as my death began to creep nearer.

“I was no prepper. I was just a parasite. This is just my attempt at atonement.

“I want you to use this shelter as a point on the Chiral Network. As one of the foundations for your new America.”

The Elder began coughing intensely once again. The hologram flickered violently and disappeared, as if wiped away by an invisible hand. Sam lost his voice to the ether as he called out for the Elder.

Sam wiped a tear from his cheek and left the Elder’s shelter behind him. It wasn’t because of the old man, but his chiral allergy. Once this area was covered by the Chiral Network and became a part of the UCA, the old man’s vitals would be monitored constantly. And once he became a part of the system, he would receive its services.

It would also allow the UCA to deal with the old man’s death. It would be able to detect the danger of necrosis in advance and prevent the old man from transforming into a BT. It would stop him from becoming an undead human-shaped bomb.

By managing all of that, the UCA could bring more stability back to the world, so it was another of their main objectives.

Guess I’m just the vanguard hired by a company of grim reapers.

Sam looked over his shoulder toward the shelter one last time.

LAKE KNOT CITY

No matter how long he showered in his private room in Lake Knot City, Sam couldn’t wash away the weariness that had lodged itself in his back and shoulders. The blood and sweat that had clung to him as he spent days making his way back to the city now ran down his legs and were harvested by the collection equipment in the shower booth, to be processed into anti-BT weaponry. Heartman, Mama, and Die-Hardman would probably be happy. The more that Sam got dirty, the more weapons they would be able to produce.

Even after lying down on the bed, Sam didn’t feel sleepy. His back was stiff and it felt like both his legs had fallen off. But still, he closed his eyes and clutched at his dreamcatcher. It was his normal ritual before getting some shut-eye. A drop of water fell into the palm of his hand.

He opened his eyes and gasped. In his hand was the hand of a dried-up, wrinkled old man.

There was no muscle on his bare arms, and his sad-looking skin hung loosely from his bones. Sam tried to get up to retrieve his fallen dreamcatcher, but his legs wouldn’t move. He collapsed onto the Beach. Sand filled his mouth and nose.

It made his arms feel like they were going to snap, but Sam used all his might to sit up and spit out the sand. What came out was dark, tarlike blood. Mixed in with the puddle of blood were yellowing teeth. Sam looked up to survey his surroundings when the sky cracked open and torrential rain began to fall.

When he tried to brush away the hair that the rain stuck to his face, white strands fell out, clumping together and tangling around his fingers. As soon as Sam inhaled to scream, he was overcome by a fit of coughing.

Sam could see the figure of a person walking along the water’s edge, their form made hazy by the relentless rain. They were dragging their right leg behind them. It was the Elder.

But it couldn’t have been. The Elder looked this way. It wasn’t him. It was Sam. The face that stared back at him was Sam as an old man.

Sam almost fell off the bed.

He put all his strength into the arms that were clutching the edge to stop him falling off, jolting him back to reality. The rain he had heard must have been the sound of the shower. Sam spied a silhouette on the other side of the misted glass. Sam tensed up and gripped the bedframe harder. The slender silhouette reminded him of the Elder at the water’s edge.

Someone had entered his room while he was asleep, but he couldn’t guess why. Maybe he was still dreaming. Sam clutched his dreamcatcher to check if he was still awake, and approached the shower booth. It was a woman.

Sam could see a naked back behind the steamed glass. It was the body of an elderly woman, whoever it was. The arms, shoulders, and waist were covered in wrinkles. It was strange, because her frame didn’t look like that of an old woman. Her waist and back were straight with a beautiful arch. Then the woman in the shower booth turned around. It was Fragile. Having noticed Sam’s gaze, she covered her bare chest with both arms. Deep wrinkles were carved into her limbs, too.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” Back in her familiar black suit, Fragile sat herself down next to Sam without a hint of embarrassment. She was so close he could feel her warmth.

“I jumped here. You were sleeping when I dropped by. I needed to get all this stuff off. It seems the chiral density on the Beach is even higher than usual.”

“Right… Look, I gotta ask. I’ve been hearing things. About you,” Sam began.

It seemed like Fragile had been anticipating this question.

“‘She’s in bed with terrorists. Don’t trust her?’ ‘She’s just another dumbass Higgs fucked over.’ ‘She’s a goddamn hero, that woman’?”

Fragile’s face was so close that Sam could feel her breathing. He looked back at her, and for the first time he was afraid. Beneath that smooth, flawless skin was a rumbling, boiling hot chaos. Like a maelstrom of anger, sadness, and regret. It was an emotion Sam couldn’t identify. It was so alarming that Sam didn’t know what to say.

“The rumors are all true.” Fragile wiped a tear from her cheek. Sam could tell that her tears weren’t caused by her jump here from the Beach. They weren’t a simple physiological response; they were from the heart.

“Tell me, Sam. What does ‘America’ mean to you?”

Sam couldn’t answer. All he could do was shake his head.

“Way my dad made it sound, we were something special. The glue that held it all together. More than a nation. A symbol of freedom and hope. We could bring it all back, if we kept on making deliveries and connecting people… He was sure of it.”

Sam thought back to his conversation with the Elder, and how he had spoken about how they could build more bridges, but they would be fragile bridges.

“I was a wreck after he died. That’s when Higgs made his pitch. ‘Together, we can run packages from sea to shining sea.’ Back then, he had a monopoly west of here. We both stood to gain a lot from a partnership. Business was pretty good at first. But then, a year ago, when those fanatics started stirring up trouble… Fuckers hijacked our system. Somehow they got hold of our security passes and used them to sneak into cities. And just like that, we’re delivering guns and bombs instead of medicine, and I didn’t even know. We were just cogs in a terrorist machine. Higgs was behind it all. And on top of that, he got his hands on an old-school nuke that I ended up carrying right into Middle Knot City. Could’ve been different if I wasn’t so fucking blind… So I did everything in my power to stop South Knot City from getting destroyed. I tried to get the nuke out of the city But Higgs was one step ahead. He took his pound of flesh and then some. Some wounds, they don’t heal.” Fragile removed a glove. Sam looked back at the palm of his own hand reflexively. “Whatever time I’ve got left, the rain took.”

As she wiped away her tears with an elderly hand, Fragile turned back toward Sam.

“That’s why I came to you,” Fragile admitted, lowering her voice. Sam still had his suspicions, but he couldn’t quite articulate them.

“So. Trust me now? I’ll be there for you, Sam. All you have to do is call.” Fragile disappeared in an instant.

Sam found that he could no longer sleep, now the room was empty again.

Before he could depart Lake Knot City, Sam encountered a slight problem.

Just as he had finished climbing all the way up the slope of the distribution center, the sensor went off. He didn’t have all the cargo. Sam tutted and turned around, to find the staff by the terminal carrying containers and bowing their heads in apology.

A man wearing the blue uniform of the delivery team waved a signal at Sam to prevent him from descending back down, and ran up to him with the cargo in his arms.

“Sorry about that. Looks like a system error. The cargo was recorded but it looks like it wasn’t properly forwarded to you.” As the man tried to get his breath back, he stopped Sam from lowering his backpack.

“This cargo is apparently bound for South Knot City. It’s been tagged as ‘fragile,’ but just let me get it on you there.” The man loaded the additional container onto Sam’s back with experienced hands.

“I might not be the Man Who Delivers, but I used to be a porter, too. At least leave the packing to me. No matter how smooth the trip goes, it’ll take several weeks to reach South Knot City. As long as you’re in an area covered by the Chiral Network, we can support you. You can also take shelter in safe houses along the way. Maintenance of that BB shouldn’t be an issue, either. And hey, if the mood strikes you, you can even use the chiral printers at the shelters of all those new UCA citizens to print out new equipment. The problems come after that. There are BT-occupied territories and MULEs and terrorists galore. We may seem like we’re much better off now in Lake Knot City, thanks to all those anti-BT weapons and support supplies that you brought us, but it’s still touch and go. We mustn’t underestimate Higgs. That guy gets off on destruction. He isn’t the porter he used to be. But I do have a little good news for you, too, Sam.

“The preppers who joined the UCA—the Elder and the Engineer—have been spreading the news about how convenient everything has gotten. The Elder especially has been nagging other preppers to join and calling them all parasites for depending on the delivery systems too much.

“Those guys originally shut themselves away in those shelters to live as long as they could. But now the terrorists are kicking off and their way of life is being threatened, they’ve started to think it might make more sense to band together and ride all of this out as one. Must feel frustrating for Higgs. Here he is trying to bring down the UCA with terrorism, and all he’s actually doing is making it stronger. Anyway, you activate the Chiral Network at all the preppers’ places and Bridges sites along the way while you carry all that stuff down to South Knot City. We’re depending on you,” the man said, lightly clapping on the pack on Sam’s back.

“Take care, Sam Porter Bridges. Make sure to get this to South Knot City nice and safe for us.”

Sam nodded and stepped away. All of a sudden, a strong wind blew, almost knocking him off his feet.

“You okay?” Sam could hear the man’s voice from the bottom of the slope. He turned back and signed that everything was fine.

“Good luck out there!” The man’s voice was all that Sam could hear from the darkness.

It had been eleven days since Sam had left Lake Knot City, and he had finally spotted a safe house.

Since all of this area was covered by the Chiral Network, he hadn’t run into too much trouble. While he was in this zone it was possible to predict MULE movements and the timefall, so he had managed to avoid those.

Having experienced the benefits of the Chiral Network firsthand, Sam was beginning to realize the meaning in everything he had accomplished until now. He supposed that it wasn’t so bad, but he also knew that establishing a communications network wouldn’t get rid of the BT issue altogether, either. In fact, it wasn’t even a sure thing that they’d be able to eradicate the MULEs and the terrorists.

—Exactly. That’s why we have to build these bridges. Mankind can’t continue to just put up walls and endure any longer, we need bridges that allow us to leap over the monsters below.

As he got nearer the safe house, the terminal recognized Sam and began to activate, and the entrance that led to the underground lobby opened up. This safe house was the operational limit of the Chiral Network.

Sam deposited all his cargo in storage and entered his private room.

He threw off his blue uniform, which was dark with mud and sweat, and worn boots. As they were cleaned, the blood and sweat that had sunk into them would be collected.

Once again, the nail on Sam’s big toe on his right foot had been torn off. It had only just begun to grow back. Sam presumed that he probably wouldn’t be able to recover completely until he got to Amelie’s place. The pain where the nail had once been was a constant companion to him on this trip.

Sam remembered one of his porter buddies telling him a story about another porter that he didn’t particularly like. The man had got sick of his nails getting ripped off all the time, so chose to rip them all out himself. Then he used to dip them in acid to stop them growing back at all.

Sam wouldn’t be able to get away with something like that now. His body and any waste it produced could be used to send the BTs back to whence they came. Sam wished the hot water pounding his flesh in the shower booth was a strong acid that could dissolve everything away. Or that he could somehow sacrifice this unique body of his to appease the BTs for good. He wondered whether, once his soul lost its body, it would be able to finally transcend the Seam and peacefully depart the Beach for the world of the dead.

When Sam woke, he noticed that the analysis results from the device displaying his vitals read “enabled.” It also said that the BB was now in good condition. Sam swallowed a painkiller and some smart drugs and washed them down with some special water. Then he pulled on his boots over the supporter that would protect his toes, and put on his newly sterilized uniform. Lastly, he hoisted on his backpack, picked up the BB, and sat down on his bed to connect it.

Tears began to leak out of his eyes from his usual allergic reaction.

He closed his eyes to escape his blurring vision and stave off unbalance. But in his head, someone else’s eyes had opened.

BB—

You’ll have to forgive Papa, I’m getting you out of here.

A face approached and a hand bore down on Sam as the voice asked for forgiveness.

The vision only lasted a brief moment.

It seemed like it was one of the BB’s memories, but Sam really didn’t feel so good. Perhaps it was more than that. Maybe Sam was experiencing the BB’s emotions as an uneasiness had taken hold that made it feel like the floor had fallen away beneath his feet.

Sam wiped away the sweat and tears, and stood up. The BB was still sleeping soundly as if nothing had happened.

The next part of the journey went even smoother than expected. Sam detected MULEs a few times, but managed to avoid them completely.

Heartman was explaining to him.

The codec call had come through while Sam was taking a break at a distribution center northeast of South Knot City.

“Will that understanding include repatriates like me and other people with DOOMS?”

Sam had heard that Heartman’s facility was located in quite a rugged spot next to a snowy glacier and an area bubbling with tar.

An electronic beep interrupted Heartman’s voice.

The codec fell silent. Sam stared blankly at the Bridges logo on the device’s monitor. It was a net that extended out over the entire land. Could that net really get to the bottom of all of this? Or would it get tangled up somehow and throw the world into further confusion? Or would it even be like getting trapped in a spider’s web, and no longer being able to move?

Sam was getting a vague feeling in the pit of his stomach that each statement was true and yet false at the same time.

SOUTH KNOT CITY

Owen Southwick was in charge of deliveries and was keeping an eye on the monitor. The country was now covered by a net, from the East Coast to the central regions. It meant that those areas were now on the Chiral Network. Ever since Middle Knot City had been wiped out by nuclear terrorism, followed by the destruction of several waystations, staff morale had been at an all-time low. It seemed like reconstruction was just a dream after all. It was impossible. It had been a mistake to join up with Fragile Express, but by the time opinion had swayed, South Knot City had already become the next target for their bombs.

As it later became clear, the plan had been to set several bombs at facilities in and around the city and set them all off at the same time. Luckily, the nuke that had been brought into the center of town had been disposed of in the nick of time. In fact, with the exception of a few facilities in the surrounding area, they had managed to prevent most of the disaster. But the incident did cause a split in opinion between Bridges and the city folk.

Some people claimed that the reason the attack didn’t fully succeed was because Fragile and her crew detected the plan in time. Others believed that Fragile had formulated and tried to execute the plan together with Higgs, but they had failed because of internal divisions. They had proof, too. A security camera had picked up Fragile carrying a package that looked suspiciously like a bomb.

People’s opinions of Fragile Express had completely polarized.

But one thing that everyone did agree on was that they needed to protect themselves against the escalating terrorism.

As did the preppers. While they were waiting for Sam Bridges to reach them with the Q-pid, Owen and the others had visited the preppers’ shelters and asked them to join an anti-terror cooperation system.

Preppers came from all kinds of backgrounds. Some were families who narrowly escaped the incident in Middle Knot City and had been forced to live in the shelters, some were unaffiliated researchers who were surveying the landscape that had been transformed by the timefall, some were scavengers on the hunt for relics, and some were plain old junkers. So not only were their circumstances different, but the values they held regarding the state differed too, and now more and more of them were second-generation preppers who had never even experienced the concept of a nation.

The only thing that could unite them was their fear and hatred of Higgs and the Homo Demens. You don’t have to join the UCA and a state system if you don’t want to. We just need you to let us use your shelters as nodes on the Chiral Network. That’s how they spun it. Once they had laid the groundwork, it was time for Sam to do his thing. And each time he used the Q-pid to activate more of the Chiral Network, the spider’s web stretched farther and wider.

Owen saw it as the long-awaited counterattack of a human race that had been driven into a single corner of the world by ruin and despair, and was now ready to fight back.

To him, the name Sam Porter Bridges was synonymous with the word “savior.”

Owen Southwick had received a text from Mama. Mama was one of the chief members of Bridges who had spearheaded the development of the Chiral Network and the Q-pid. Her home and lab weren’t far from South Knot City. It was a warning. It said that the chiral density in the area had become unstable. It said that she couldn’t get any clear values, locations, or ranges, but they should exercise caution.

This area still wasn’t connected to the Chiral Network, so they hadn’t been able to obtain any accurate readings. Mama’s lab was probably having the same issues, but Owen couldn’t imagine her sending a warning without reason, so he decided to call the distribution center, which was covered by the network, just in case. But they said there hadn’t been any particularly abnormal readings lately.

Owen couldn’t shake his worry, and decided to try to get some air outside. He didn’t have DOOMS or anything, but maybe he would be able to sense something or smell something different in the air.

Owen boarded the elevator and went up. He could feel the dry breeze. There was a hint of something rotten to its smell. It was the odor that was carried over from the nearby crater lake. It was given off by the tarlike substance that had built up there. It smelled the same as it usually did, but after Mama’s warning, he couldn’t help but take it as a bad omen.

Owen climbed the slope. He could see the sky now, but it looked just the same as always. He couldn’t see the sun, but that was normal. What light did reach the surface had to pass through a thin veil of chiral clouds. He reached the entrance and looked out farther. All he could see was the barren, alien landscape of rock and sand. He tried using the binoculars to see even farther than that, and managed to recognize the speck in the distance that was the distribution center he had just called.

He could see a man emerging from the shadow of a huge boulder that resembled a whale carcass. He was carrying a lot of cargo and walking this way. Owen couldn’t make out his face from this distance, but he was sure of who it was. It was Sam Porter Bridges, their savior.

Owen raised his voice and waved his arms in the air to call him over.

But then he gasped and stopped.

Another shadow suddenly appeared right by Sam’s side. The figure was smaller than that of Sam, and it looked like they were arguing about something. Owen zoomed in as far as his binoculars would go. It was Fragile. Sam was running and Fragile was chasing him.

What the hell is she doing? She was trying to stop Sam from getting here.

Even though part of the city in the south that Sam had been aiming for had come into view, the queer-shaped rocks that dotted the reddish-brown landscape prevented him from heading directly for it. He would either have to go over them or go around them. What was worse was how the sand was swallowing up his feet with each and every step, and how the air was so dry that his sweat soon evaporated, sucking away his energy with it.

His lips were cracked and blotted with blood. The fickle wind whipped up the sand in a prolonged attempt to stop him from getting anywhere.

It also delivered the stench of rotting meat straight to Sam’s nostrils. It certainly didn’t smell like the world of the living. Sam cursed and tightened the straps on his pack. A large boulder that looked like a dead whale monopolized Sam’s field of vision. It was so enormous that it looked like the stuff of legend. Like a beast that had been slain millennia ago. South Knot City was now completely blocked from view. He would have to limp around the rock, it was far too big to climb.

Sam forced himself to keep track of how far along the whale he was, all the way from its rectum through to its pancreas, stomach, and gullet. In his head, it was like he was being reborn out of the whale’s mouth. Once he had reached the top of the head, the entire city came into view. Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

Then the city disappeared like a mirage.

The space in front of him distorted. Tears leaked out. The scent of the Beach pierced his nostrils.

Once the distortion had righted itself, a woman clad in black appeared before him. Fragile.

“Hurry!” She forcibly grabbed Sam’s arm. Sam tried to shake himself free, but his entire arm, all way from the wrist to the shoulder, felt like it was on fire. He couldn’t endure the burning touch of Fragile’s hand.

“Sam, we’ve gotta get back to the lake. It’s the cargo!”

Sam shook himself free of Fragile’s grip and steadied himself. All the blood had drained from Fragile’s face, leaving her pale as a ghost. She was breathing heavily, most likely because of the jump.

“There’s a bomb in the cargo. A nuclear bomb.”

Sam couldn’t believe his ears. Before he even had a chance to wonder about the wheres and whys, Fragile had grabbed hold of his arm again. This time he didn’t attempt to shake her off and just ran.

“There was a query from Lake Knot. They asked if Fragile Express had lost any cargo. But we couldn’t have done. We’re no longer in any state to go making deliveries,” Fragile panted, her explanation punctuated by gasps of air.

“I knew it immediately. This was Higgs’s handiwork. Or a message. I knew that a nuke had been planted in some cargo bound for South Knot just like before.”

It must have been that porter. Sam tried to remember his face, but he couldn’t quite piece it together.

“If everything goes to plan, then he’ll be able to make it look like Bridges is responsible for nuclear terrorism. He predicted that I would come to try and save you, in fact, I bet he anticipated that I would. So now, even if it doesn’t reach the city, if the bomb explodes while we are together, we’ll still look guilty. He’ll be able to paint Bridges and Fragile Express as corrupt nuclear terrorists.”

“What should we do?” Sam stopped and put down the backpack. It must have been that smaller case that was added on before he left. It was graffitied with a crude skull that looked like it had been painted by a child, almost like it was laughing at the stupid porter. But Sam could have sworn that the mark wasn’t there when he had left that morning.

“Throw it in the crater lake. Just like I did.”

That tar-filled lake was the source of the stink around here. The water’s surface was dark, like all the colors had been boiled down into one. It sucked in all light like a black hole lying on the surface of the land. It was too repulsive to even approach, so Sam had decided to avoid it.

“Jump me there together with the cargo.”

Sam remembered about Fragile’s DOOMS. But Fragile simply apologized, making an expression that was half-laughing, half-crying.

“I can’t. I couldn’t back then, either. When I discovered that I had a bomb, I tried dumping it in my Beach storage. But some other power wouldn’t let me. It was someone else’s DOOMS. It was so strong that it could control my Beach. It suppressed my own power. Still does today.”

“Was it Higgs?” Sam asked.

“No, someone different. Or maybe even ‘something’ different. But it gives him his power.”

Fragile grabbed Sam by the arm one more time and tried to take off running. Sam gently rejected her hands and removed the pod from his chest.

“Take care of the kid.”

The BB looked up at Sam from Fragile’s arms with a strange expression on its face. Sam grabbed the case and began to run alone.

He could tell that blood was oozing out of his toes. There was a puddle of it already forming in his boots. It ran out into each and every step, leaving a trail of dark-red footprints on the already red sandy soil.

At least it would keep the BTs away. They may have been far from the BT territories, but that offered Sam little relief now that he had left the BB with Fragile. The increasingly pungent stench of rotten meat and the thickness and stagnation of the air signaled that Sam was nearing the crater. As he reached the final steep slope that led up to the lake at the summit, he clenched his teeth and began to climb.

Fear seized him every time it felt like he might drop the case. If Higgs had been watching Sam ever since he first snuck the bomb into the cargo, then he could have blown it up any time he liked. It was probably remotely controlled or contained some kind of timer. Sam needed to get rid of it as soon as possible.

He couldn’t help but hear Higgs’s cold laughter in his head. Higgs probably knew exactly what would happen. He probably knew everything that had already transpired and what would happen afterward. All thanks to that “something different” that Fragile spoke about.

But Sam couldn’t get caught up in all that right now. Whether that thing was involved or not, if this bomb went off then South Knot City and all the Chiral Network sites he had connected up to here would crumble to nothing. There would be no way to get America back. The BB would be lost. Keeping it alive was his self-appointed mission.

This isn’t for America. This is for mankind.

Sam roared from the pit of his stomach and wrung out every last drop of strength. He climbed up the crater, his feet now covered in blood.

Then he picked up the bomb with both hands and lobbed it at the jet-black surface of the lake. It flew in a clear arc and sank. The great ripples that undulated across the surface looked like the arms of monsters, feasting on carrion, each vying to be the one to claim the rotten prize. Drawn down by countless arms, the bomb sank right to the bottom of the lake.

The surface of the lake flashed white, followed by a low rumbling sound. Sam could feel the vibrations in the soles of his feet. Then there was nothing. The surface of the lake was back to normal like nothing had ever happened.

“You saved the city and everyone in it.” Fragile had caught up and was catching her breath beside Sam. “Hell of a lot more than I ever did.”

The BB was staring at Fragile curiously from inside the pod.

“Maybe there was no way of saving Middle Knot. But South Knot’s still here because of you and me,” Sam reassured Fragile.

Fragile had done the same as him when Higgs tried to bomb the city before. She had taken the bomb back then and thrown it into the lake. If she hadn’t suggested doing that again, Sam had no idea what he would have done instead.

“By the time I realized what Higgs was planning, the nuke was already at South Knot City gates. I followed the delivery truck and somehow managed to carry the bomb to safety. But Higgs had been on to me from the start. He caught me red-handed outside the gates, nuke still cradled in my arms like a child,” Fragile explained as she stared at the lake’s surface.

She would never be able to forget the sound and smell of the rain, or the color of the sky from back then. Just like she would never be able to get rid of the scars that covered her body.

She had been forced to place her hands behind her head and ordered to kneel. Her well-worn uniform was torn to pieces and Fragile had been left only in her underwear.

Below the eaves that barely jutted out at the South Knot City distribution center entrance, the ritual had begun. The priest was Higgs and the sacrifice was Fragile. Those witnessing the ceremony were their subordinates. With the exception of Fragile, all their faces were hidden.

“Listen up, Fragile! I got a proposition for ya!” Higgs declared. The witnesses raised their guns. They were all aimed at Fragile. Higgs looked up at the sky and the clouds converged, shrouding the area in dusky darkness. Fragile had barely begun to notice the drops of water begin to fall when the timefall suddenly poured down.

“Do you want to live out your days as damaged goods? Or would you rather take damage for the goods?”

The case that contained the nuke was placed in front of Fragile. It was a case that she had transported.

“Alright. If all you want is to save yourself, you just have to jump. However, if you want to see this altruistic streak of yours through, then you’ll have to carry my nuke to the bottomless pit and toss it in. Then you’ll be the city’s savior. Simple enough, right?” Higgs said before looking up at the sky again. The timefall was crashing down like a waterfall.

“I don’t want to go too easy on you, though. You will have to walk naked through timefall to do it. Trade a lot of your time for a little bit of the city’s. Hell, seems like a fair exchange to me.”

Higgs removed his mask, and then the gas mask underneath, to reveal his true face.

“You see, the truth is, I don’t much care for my face. That’s why I hide it. Oh but you… ooh, you just love yours, don’t ya? I bet daddy was real proud.”

He grabbed Fragile’s hair and pulled her closer. A cruel smile broke across his face as Fragile tried to turn her face away from him. He stuck out his tongue and licked her eyeball.

“Oh! No, no, no. Now, don’t worry. I won’t mess it up. See, I want your face to be a kind of testament.”

Higgs went on, placing his mask over Fragile’s face. They had switched places. Now Higgs was showing his bare face, while Fragile’s was concealed.

“Why did you do it? Why did you betray me?”

Higgs threw Fragile and her muffled voice a look of pity.

“Because I found someone who completes me. Someone who doesn’t need me to wear a mask.” He gave orders to his subordinates and forced Fragile onto her feet.

“Word to the wise. Even if you do save South Knot, you’ll always be the nutjob who blew up Middle Knot. That pretty face of yours will always be remembered as the face of a terrorist. They’ll never stop hunting you. Believe me, I know. Well, they can slap a sticker on you, but you’re still gonna break in transit.”

The rain kept falling as hard as ever. Fragile could hear the sound of a building collapsing among the ruins somewhere.

“So. What’s it gonna be?” Higgs leaned in and whispered in her ear. This time his tongue flicked against her earlobe. Fragile looked up at him and spoke as if to reject the lukewarm sticky feeling on her ear and the curse Higgs had whispered inside it.

“I’ll take the damage. And the goods. I don’t break that easy.” Fragile recited the same words inside her head to purify the curse and keep her spirits up.

I’ll take the damage and the goods. I don’t break that easy. I’ll take the damage and the goods. I don’t break that easy.

Fragile picked up the bomb that lay at her feet and ran.

The timefall pounded relentlessly against her shoulders, back, chest, and limbs, stealing away her time without mercy. Her attunement to her own body, that should have been deteriorating at its own rate, was thrown into disarray. It started to age. The woman who took the damage and the goods was beginning to break.

Protected by Higgs’s mask, her face didn’t age a day, but her body from neck to toe was now covered by the wrinkled skin of an old woman. The only thing grounding the sensation of her torn and broken body in reality was the weight of the bomb. It kept the woman named Fragile running through the rain.

All life in Knot City was resting on her delicate shoulders.

“Well, there it is. You are a goddamn hero. You did the right thing,” Sam muttered as Fragile finished recounting her story. “It was all true.”

As he looked into the crater that had swallowed up the bomb, Sam praised Fragile, but she just shook her head feebly.

“I’m no hero, Sam. That choice I made? I’ve regretted it ever since. All I had to do was jump, and I could have saved myself.”

“But instead you saved a city.”

Fragile shook her head once more.

“Well, now there’s only one person left for me to ‘save.’ I’m going to make Higgs regret he ever crossed me.”

“By killing him?” Sam asked.

“Can’t. He’s way more powerful now than he was before. But you could take him. You could. But promise me… Promise me you’ll leave him alive. There’s something I wanna ask him to his face. I want to know why he betrayed me.”

When Sam saw Fragile’s face, he thought that she looked hollow, as if she had lost someone very dear to her. A cryptobiote drifted in the space between them. Fragile plucked it out of the air skillfully.

“Do you want it?”

Sam grimaced for a moment, before taking it and popping it into his mouth. It tasted terrible.

He couldn’t hide his disgust, and when Fragile saw his face she burst out laughing. Sam laughed, too.

“Promise me, Sam,” Fragile said, and vanished.

SOUTH KNOT CITY

After disposing of the nuke in the crater lake and parting with Fragile, Sam picked up the rest of his cargo and eventually arrived at South Knot City.

A man from Bridges named Owen Southwick greeted him excitedly. Even though it was protocol to interact with porters in hologram form from the control room, Owen had made an exception and gone up to the surface especially. This man was their savior!

And he had just received word that Sam and Fragile had disposed of a nuke that the Demens had tried to sneak into the city.

“You gotta give me the whole story later,” Owen remarked as he went to lower the cargo that Sam had brought into the basement for inspection. “By the way, Sam, you know Mama, right?”

Sam nodded as he lowered his backpack. He had only ever spoken to her over codec, but she was an important member of Bridges. She was the developer behind the anti-BT weapons and the Q-pid. Once he had rested in South Knot, Sam had been instructed to drop by the satellite lab on the outskirts where she had taken up residence.

“There’s been word from her saying that the fluctuations in chiral density in this region have become unstable. We’re not sure why that is, but she told us to be careful,” Owen reported on his way down to the basement.

Left on his own, Sam finished his delivery and used the Q-pid to activate the Chiral Network. He was assailed by the usual dizziness, but this time it was worse than usual. He felt like his stomach had been turned inside-out. He felt like he was going to puke, like when he repatriated back from the Seam. Maybe it was because he was so worn out.

Sam had walked all the way from Lake Knot with a lot of cargo and hadn’t taken a decent break in days. He was acutely aware of all the aches and pains he had forgotten about, like the toe with the nail that had been torn off and the soreness that coursed through his shoulders and back from the weight of the pack. He needed to rest. So he got on the elevator and took it down to his private room.

Then the BB began to cry. It was probably the stress of autotoxemia setting in. Sam hadn’t allowed the BB to sync with its stillmother for a while now. While he tried to quell his recurring urge to vomit, he stroked the pod. It’s going to be alright, BB.

“Thanks, Sam. You’ve saved South Knot City.”

Now that Sam had taken a shower and seen to his wounds, Amelie was praising him from her prison in Edge Knot City.

The movements and sounds from her hologram kept going out of sync, so her image looked kind of fake. Sam had never experienced network disturbances like this before.

“You’re halfway there—halfway to making us whole again. Thank you.”

The hologram froze and only her voice could be heard. “Listen, there’s something I need to tell you.”

But Sam covered his ears. A horrible noise like metal scraping on metal blared out.

Amelie disappeared. Sam kept staring into space. He expected her to come back any time now.

The hologram eventually flashed back up and pieced itself together—they had been betrayed.

Under a black hood and golden mask was Higgs.

“Sam—”

But the voice belonged to Amelie. Maybe the network disturbance was causing the voice or image to lag. Or maybe—

Sam stared at Higgs’s chest. Hanging around it was the golden quipu that Sam had given Amelie.

“Amelie!”

There was another wave of noise. Higgs disappeared, leaving Sam full of worry and suspicion. But then…

“Sam!”

A woman’s voice rang out, followed by a hologram. But it wasn’t Amelie. It was a slender woman in a tank top with her hair tied back. It was Mama.

“Sam, I’m detecting a chiral spike. Right in your vicinity. These numbers are off the charts.”

The BB cried out at the sound of Mama’s voice. It sounded like it was scared. But the pod was in the incubator. The BB was synced with its stillmother, it should have felt safe and at peace, but instead it was crying, terrified of something Sam couldn’t see. Sam wondered if it could have been because of the chiral spike. He wondered if the unusually bad dizziness he experienced when he used the Q-pid, and the service interruptions, were down to the spikes as well.

“We have no idea what’s going on. Please be careful.” Mama made a pained expression and clutched a hand to her breast. The other hand looked like it was carrying something, but there was nothing there. Was that down to the network disturbances, too?

A warning alarm shook the room. Mama’s hologram disappeared and the BB’s crying got louder and louder.

Tears began to spill out of Sam’s eyes. He felt goosepimples develop all over his body as chills ran through it. It was an allergic reaction to chiralium, the likes of which Sam had never experienced before.

Higgs had to be behind it. Sam couldn’t just wait where he was. He needed to see what was happening outside, or rather, what Higgs was making happen outside. He unplugged the BB and boarded the elevator to go find out.

Something strange was clearly taking place.

When Sam climbed the slope from the upper floor and exited the distribution center, he looked up at the sky.

It was transforming. The center of the sky was being pulled toward the ground, twisting into a spiral. Several layers of surrounding clouds were pulled toward and around the focal point of the spiral, transforming it into a huge disk that covered the entire sky. Writhing like some kind of creature, it was headed this way. It was an enormous supercell that defied the laws of physics.

The surrounding area was cloaked in darkness. The wind instantly turned into a raging gale, making it difficult to even stand.

The BB was still bawling. The Odradek also came to life and immediately formed a cross shape.

Protecting the pod with one arm, Sam used the other to grab on to a nearby pillar. The stones whipped up by the wind pelted Sam. Even the abandoned debris and machines that were being used to repair the city’s outer walls had been sucked up into the sky. Sam’s arms and legs were already at their limit. He wouldn’t be able to stand anything more than this. Rocks as big as a man’s fist hit Sam relentlessly. His body was already so numb from the pain that he couldn’t even feel them anymore. He barely noticed as his grip on the pillar was torn loose.

The world turned upside-down as Sam was swallowed up into the heart of the supercell.