Chapter Text
Rain is never just rain. Timefall accelerates the age of everything it touches. Plants grow and die in seconds. People shrivel and die in the blink of an eye. The Death Stranding had upset the world, turning it into a void out-ridden soup of preppers trying to survive, porters risking their lives, and few people trying to change the state of the world.
In Middle Knot, everything was gone. The collapsed buildings were rusted and nearly leveled. No living creature survived the void out. From what she had heard, someone committed suicide and their body had gone unnoticed. It wasn’t long before the BTs claimed the bodies, then subsequently the lives of everyone else in Middle Knot.
Ren still periodically stopped by the area, picking up stranded packages and delivering them to their rightful owners. Today the timefall was heavy, the deluge causing pools of timefall to form in the muddied dirt and gravel. She sat quietly on a collapsed wall, eyes alert and scanning the void-out crater.
BTs floated between crumbling pillars. Large ones, small ones, skinny ones. Babies sometimes. Her eyes strained, keeping track of most of them; she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. Her skin did not creep; her eyes did not water. She could not feel them but see them clearly. Their umbilical cords tangle endlessly into the sky.
It wasn’t abnormal that they gathered here. It rained here constantly. There were other places nearby where they gathered, but Middle Knot drew them in. The sense of loss. The emptiness. Hollow.
Something twitched out of the corner of her eye. A baby BT floated into her vision, its tiny hands making a reflexive grasping motion. She didn’t move or look away; it simply floated there before veering in her direction. Ren leaned back and sucked in a breath, lying flat on her back to let the baby float over her. It was so close she could faintly hear its cry.
As it passed over her, umbilical cord trailing along behind it, she slowly let out the breath she’d been holding. She closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of the rain and wet concrete. The pitter-patter of the rain was somewhat soothing if she could ignore everything else.
One mistake meant another void out. Death of everyone in the area – potentially even more void outs. Not a risk she was willing to take. Middle Knot hadn’t changed that much since getting wiped off the map, but lately there had been more lost packages than normal. She had picked up ten just the other day. She would come back the next day, and there would be more, sometimes less.
Porters typically don’t venture far into the crater. Too dangerous. Especially for those without DOOMS. Ren didn’t have DOOMS abilities like “The Great Deliverer” or anything, but she could get by. Seeing BTs has its pros and cons, as does “feeling” them, she’s sure.
How does someone even feel one?
She kicks one of her dangling feet over the edge of the wall, timefall trickling down her pantleg and kicking it off into the air. What do they feel like? Sad? Angry? Lonely? Not questions she can answer. The BTs float aimlessly around the crater, bumping into one another. Their cords do not intermingle, connection just out of reach. Sad probably.
She notices movement near the edge of the crater. Too solid for BT movement. The dark blue shoulder of someone crouched between two columns, rebar jutting out across the openings. She begins to lean closer, pulling up her legs slightly for a BT passing beneath her.
The person, still crouched, moves slowly from behind the columns. Their face is covered by a shield of polarized orange and a hood, protecting them from timefall. Odradek opens and closes repeatedly. Ren pulls her legs up to kneel, rising slightly for a better eyeline.
The person stops abruptly as their Odradek quickly changes from its previous pattern to spinning. Its white lights blurring to form almost a complete circle. They pause, remaining crouched, facing forward as the BT floats around them. It hovers near their right shoulder, wiggles, then moves on, drifting aimlessly away from them.
Their shoulders drop slightly. They can’t see them. The Odradek reverted to opening and closing, directing its attention to another BT nearby. The person reaches over a puddle, grabbing a package buried in the mud. They give it a quick shake before slipping it into their backpack. Ren shifts to a crouch; another BT passing overhead.
Hm. Porter, hopefully. The person slowly creeps through the crater, picking up a package here and there – even one of the big ones of fuel. Jeez, definitely Porter. They stop at a terminal covered by the remnants of a shelter. Covered from the timefall, the Porter rises to stand cautiously, Odradek still clicking on their right shoulder. They check over both shoulders before the suit and face shield come down simultaneously.
His hair is longer, weathered. Skin untouched by timefall, maybe middle aged. Old enough to remember the before, for sure. He raises his chin slightly, pulling something out from around his neck. Placing it gingerly under the light of the terminal, he shifts slightly, blocking Ren’s view.
What is he doing?
She collects her feet under her, rising slowly to stand, peering over the crater at the ruined shelter. A BT cord flops around in front of her; the BT below causing tar bubbles beneath its hovering feet. The man at the shelter is suddenly enveloped in lights and flashing waves of holograms. His body rises slowly off the ground, his pack and Odradek rising with him. The Odradek quickly spins, then forms a pointed cross shape in the direction of the terminal.
The sound is mesmerizing. Like the slow beat of an electronic heart coming in and out of focus. Connecting to something new. And before Ren can process what the terminal is actually doing, it’s gone. The man drops back down to the ground. He takes whatever it was from the terminal and quickly tucks it back into his coat.
He turns, shifting his weight to lean against the wall of the ruined shelter. His chest rises and falls, taking a deep breath and sliding down to the floor. He looks exhausted. He sits there for a moment before his fingers work on disconnecting his Bridge Baby from his chest. His Odradek’s rhythm dies entirely, but the BB pod lights up a soft orange.
It looks almost like he’s... rocking it. Ren glances down at her own. The shell of the pod is solid black, a little orange cat charm dangling from the loose connection. It hasn’t lit up since Mountain Knot, not that it needed to. When connected, all it does is cry.
So why is he rocking his like an actual baby? It’s odd. A BB is a tool to be used, not an actual human child. It doesn’t need to be rocked. Right?
Sam sat quietly, rocking BB to gentle hums. It danced and laughed, giving him a thumbs up here and there. He felt a smile growing at the corners of his mouth- but this was hardly the place for that. Tears drying on his cheeks; he snapped the BB pod back into place on his chest. BB looked up at him with curious eyes.
He drew up the connection cord, forcing the prongs together- the sound of gravel crumbling echoing in the crater. He paused, standing completely still and measuring his breaths. Getting caught by a BT here would certainly result in another voidout. Glancing around but not feeling any BTs close, he slowly snaps the connection cord into place.
The Odradek springs from his shoulder; lights and petals flashing to the south near the exit of the crater. BB somersaulted in the pod, letting out a small squeal then dedicated their full attention to the task at hand. Sam takes a careful step forward out of the shelter. His hood and face shield slide into place.
His skin erupts in goosebumps, hair standing on end. The faint screech of a BT and tar bubbles force him to stop. Allowing the unseen to pass, Sam sidesteps around the tar left in its wake. He sucks in a breath and holds, forcing himself forward, and scans the rubble. Column, wall, rebar pile, wall, crumbling building.
Slowly letting out the breath, he quickly flicks his wrist, silently instructing the Odradek to pulse. Loose rock here, flat terrain, nothing abnormal. He crouches and moves forward silently, sucking in another breath – Odradek clicking behind him.
A small blue footprint edges into his vision, not enough for a tag. The Odradek’s clacking getting louder, Sam sucks in another breath, bead of sweat rolling down his hairline inside the helmet. He pulses the Odradek again, fully lighting up a series of footprints exiting the ruins.
His eyes scan the path before landing on a tag a few paces away. Blue. Porter.
ASSCTN: BRIDGES
R. KURODA
PRTR LVL. 132