*Third Person POV*

  Michael watched Aspen from the back of the MRAP for another minute before standing up and making his way toward its front. He stopped halfway and changed directions, heading towards the front of his truck. There, he picked up the pistol from one of the corpses and fired a shot into the skull of the unfortunate bandit who had only had his leg torn when hit by Aspen's shots, putting him out of his agonizing misery.

  He then walked back to the MRAP, and once he had reached the driver's door, he bent down and looked under the truck. Charlie's eyes stared back at him from under the truck, his tears had dried up, and his face was now covered in dirt from the ground.

  "Are the bad guys gone, Daddy?" Charlie asked.

  "Yes, son. There's no more bad guys here to hurt us," Michael responded.

  "Now come out here and close your eyes for a second," he ordered after looking around for a bit, not wanting him to be more traumatized than he already was by seeing all of the corpses and the gore of body parts strewn about.

  Charlie obeyed his father and came out from under the truck, closing his eyes as he did so. He then put his hands over them so as not to see anything. Michael then proceeded to lift Charlie up into his arms, a grunt escaping his lips as he did so. He then walked around his truck and opened the passenger's door, seating his son down on the passenger seat.

  "Are you ok?" Michael asked Charlie.

  "Mhmm," the boy responded quietly as he nodded his head.

  "I'm sorry son, I- I shouldn't have put you in-" Michael started apologizing to his son, but was interrupted by him.

  "It's ok, Daddy, I'm ok," the boy said with a smile. "You look awesome and strong. Can we go into the city and get ice cream today?"

  Michael was, at first, choked up by the boy's words, but he then smiled as he realized how soon he had moved on from the event that had happened. He knew that there was at least some level of trauma in his son, but he was happy that it didn't seem to be affecting him as badly as he expected, at least for now.

  "Ok then, we'll definitely get some ice cream later. For now, how about you wait in here?" Michael said as he started rummaging through his truck. After fiddling around for a minute, he found what he was looking for: a transparent tablet with some gray lines highlighting its edges. He handed it to Charlie while patting his leg, "Here, watch something on the net while I go have a talk with the pilot we rescued earlier."

  "Ok, thanks, Daddy! You're the best!" Charlie's earlier demeanor had been replaced as his face gleamed with a smile and his eyes shone with excitement.

  Michael stepped back and closed the door to his truck, taking a deep breath as he leaned his back against it. He stared at his shaking hands while taking a minute to get himself together. After calming his nerves, he walked over to Aspen, who was still kneeling on the ground, quietly sobbing. Aspen seemed to ignore his presence as he kept on quietly crying, only reacting when Michael stood behind him and patted him on the shoulder.

  Aspen pulled himself together immediately, his quiet sobs replaced by a pained look, his tears quickly drying thanks to the dry breeze that spread across the dry desert landscape.

  The wind carried the smell of burnt metal and the faint, acrid tinge of smoke. Next to Aspen, his smoking railgun added to the smell. After a minute of staring off into the distance, Aspen looked up at Michael, the emptiness in his gaze felt as vast as the desolate wasteland around them. Michael crouched down by him, his low and rough voice breaking the silence.

  "Hey, socio," he started, Aspen's dead eyes staring back at him, "now, I don't know exactly what it is you're going through, but I think there are enough context clues to kind of picture it. You lost them all, didn't you? Your men?"

  Aspen stared at Michael, his lifeless eyes staring through him. Aspen's hands tightened as he fought to find the words, to bring himself to speak. He looked away and stared off into the distance, his voice cracking when he finally spoke. "They're all gone. The movement, my men… my friends… my sister. I couldn't-" His words faltered, as his voice shook, tears threatening to fall from his eyes once again. "I couldn't save them, he- I got them all killed."

  Michael nodded slowly, his gaze following Aspen's into the distance. He glanced around him and then back at Aspen. He was beaten and weary, yet somehow still barely managing to hold on despite his recent breakdown.

  "War's cruel," Michael said softly. "Takes more than it gives. It's just the law of this fucking universe. I've seen good people fall for money, dying like dogs for what their corporate overlords view as precious, things that should've never been fought for in the first place." He paused, sitting himself down next to Aspen, "You feel like the weight of the world's on you now, but carrying it alone will crush you. Trust me, I've- I've been through it. Through something similar," he paused once again, taking a deep breath before continuing. "When I lost my wife, I didn't know what I was going to do. How I was going to raise my boy, how we were supposed to survive on this wretched fucking planet where you either sell your soul to the corps, sell your morals and become a merc, or decide to step on the little guy and become some sorry excuse of an outlaw."

  Aspen blinked, his voice barely a whisper. "I lost them too… my wife and daughters, killed in front of him- in front of me, after the battle had ended and I had surrendered. They-they," Aspen couldn't continue for a second, as if his words were caught in his words. With a confused face, he stated in a questioning manner, "they were the best to ever happen in my life? And they died because of me, because of my cause, because of my rebellion… and because of that bastard's antics…" Aspen's fists clenched as he said the last part.

  Michael forced himself to look down, he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He had been stumped by the bombshell Aspen had just dropped on him.

  "But I'll make them pay, I'll make them all pay. I'll kill every fucker that deserves death and cleanse this world, this fucking galaxy, this whole fucking universe of the pest that plagues it!"

  "I see," were the only words Michael could muster. The man before him had lost it all, a man with nothing left to lose, a man with a death wish. With no reason left to live other than to get revenge, he would kill all those who caused this to him and many more. He was a man who would dedicate the rest of his days to hunting anything that resembled what he had fought against. And if that claims his life in the end, then so be it.

  Michael stood up and extended his hand out to Aspen. He started at Michael's hand for a second before taking it, helping himself up. "My name is Michael Sullivan, by the way. I may not be able to help you much, especially not with your vendetta, as I'm a scavenger. However, I also happen to be an information broker, and I'd be willing to help you with any information you need for saving my life and…" Michael trailed off as he looked back at his truck, "sparing my boy from such a fate."

  Aspen nodded and shook Michael's hand firmly, "I'm Aspen, Aspen Del Santo. I'm- I used to be the commander of the Phantoms fighting against the Cenollian Order that had been established by some fucking corp… You can call me by my name, or Reaper if you'd like."

  "Would you mind giving me a hand in transporting some cargo for me? I only spared him since he seemed to be the most harmless fool of them all, and considering he's still…" Aspen trailed off as he pointed in the direction of the man who was still in a fetal position, the only bandit to have been spared. "...in such a state, I'm guessing it won't be hard for him to fork over some intel for me."

  "Yes, I wouldn't mind tying him up and bringing him to my place." Michael then reached into his pockets and pulled out a small transparent rectangle that reassembled the device he had handed Charlie earlier. "Let me just get your information so I can send you my address."

  Aspen looked at the device in Michael's hands, not recognizing what it was, and his fragmented memories of this life were of no help. They were like a curse; he only remembered things that were essential to the Aspen of this world, like how to pilot a mech, how to use weapons, what planet he was currently on, who his family and friends were, and his emotions, but that was about it. Therefore, he opted for shaking his head and lying, "I don't have any of that. Since I was fighting against the forces of the Cecillian Order, I thought it best to keep myself off it."

  "That makes some sense, but they're very useful; if you had someone skilled enough, you'd be able to cover your tracks. Well, how about you take that MRAP and follow me?" Michael suggested.

  "I can't do that," Aspen promptly replied as he looked down and kicked the dirt under his boots. "I have a lot of graves to dig…"

  "I- I understand. How about you take my Nexus and I'll just contact you from my son's datapad," Michael said as he handed his device, the Nexus, to Aspen.

  "I greatly appreciate this. Would you also happen to have a shovel?" Aspen replied.

  "Yeah, let's load this guy up first, then I'll get one for you."

  They walked over to the man who was still in a fetal position and used a metal wire to tie him up. They made it tight enough to ensure that if he tried to escape, it would only get tighter and cut into his flesh. They then threw him in the back of the truck's second cabin and then searched for a shovel in the bed of the truck. After finding one, Michael got Aspen two canteens filled with water before getting in his truck and driving away as Aspen watched.

  Once they were no longer visible, Aspen turned around and dug through Typhon's body, searching for any keys to the MRAP. He found a keycard in his pocket and quickly pocketed it before looking inside the MRAP. When he came out, a pry bar had been added to this collection of tools, and he started walking towards the battlefield as he messed around with the Nexus, trying to figure out how to work the thing.

  By the time he had reached the battlefield once again, he had gotten very familiar with the Nexus. He checked the time before putting his Nexus. It was only 12:00 PM.

  *First Person POV*

  Finally returning to the battlefield, I spoke to Jarvis. "You may talk again, give me the notifications of the things I've received, too."

  "Yes, Host. I'm sorry for doubting your judgment earlier. Here are the notifications that you muted earlier.

  Ding! You've received 23 CSP from killing random bandits x12, assist x1. CSP can be derived from killing an opponent, and it varies depending on how tainted their souls were.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ding! You've completed your quest! 100 CSP awarded.

  Ding! You've completed a hidden quest: Associate yourself with your savior. Reward: 20 CSP

  Total CSP balance: 143"

  "Ok, thank you, Jarvis. If I have anything in mind, I'll ask you; until then, please give me some time to myself."

  "As you wish, Host."

  I walked over to the bodies of the ones who are supposed to be my wife and children. I squat beside them, and foreign emotions take hold of me. God, they're kind of annoying. I can't control myself at times like earlier, when I just broke down sobbing. I thought the memories would just help me orient myself, but the fact that they provide very little information about this universe and are only about things that were deeply important to this Aspen is kind of a letdown.

  I sat by their bodies, tears filling my eyes, and remained next to them for the next 30 minutes, stroking the hair of my girls as silence reigned supreme.

  "Hey, Jarvis, is there anything that can be used to regrow skin in the system shop?"

  "There certainly is, Host. The price for 1 capsule is 40 CSP. However, judging from your thoughts, I would not recommend wasting it on these corpses."

  "Would it work if I applied it to them even if they are dead?"

  "...Yes, it would, Host."

  "Good, purchase two of them. Also, is there anything to mend broken bones? On the dead, obviously."

  "Yes, Host. Each capsule to mend broken bones is worth 50 CSP. Would you like to purchase one?"

  "Yes"

  "Ding! Remaining CSP: 13"

  After confirming, 3 capsules appeared in my hands. I put the 2 pink ones in the mouths of my skinless daughters and the yellow one in the dead Autumn's mouth. After about 30 seconds, I was able to witness how skin grew over the bodies of the 2 girls, and then I watched as Autumn's body twitched, accompanied by some audible cracks and pops. Once the processes were done, I stared at them. Autumn's skin was still pale as ever, but Aria and Alicia's skin was white with hints of pink, and if not for the fact that they had no pulse, I would have been fooled into believing they still lived.

  "Time to get digging," I say to myself, and grab the shovel.

  I look around the desert landscape and find a path of soil with grass growing over it. About 20 minutes later, I stood over the trench I'd managed to make, the weight of the shovel was light in my hands, but I felt a weight pressing down on my chest. It was the heaviest thing I had ever felt. These feelings have been something to battle while digging.

  The earth was hard and stubborn, as if even it was resisting the idea of burying them. All I could think of was them, Autumn and my daughters, lying just a few feet away, their

  bodies wrapped in some bloodstained fabric I had managed to find. I can't bear to look at them. Every time I looked at their faces, it felt like my world was ending, and now, I'm just going through the motions. I climb out of the meter-and-a-half trench and pick up my Aria's and Alicia's bodies. I feel an urge overcome me and I kiss them each gently on the forehead before softly laying each one of them into the makeshift grave I've made. I made sure that Autumn was between Aria and Alicia, her arms around the two of them, doing what he- what I had failed to do, protecting them.

  "I know I'm not their actual father, just another version of him, a younger version of him that took over his dead body. So I can only pray that if we have separate souls, he's with you all. And if not, well then, please take care of them for me." I say before I start shoveling dirt into the trench. Once I'm done, I find 2 pieces of metal and create a makeshift small cross that I then plant into the earth, marking their graves. I then placed everything that I wouldn't need for the moment next to it.

  I stop for a moment, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and I stare at the graves I've made. I know it's not what they should get, but it's all I can do at the time. I feel the turmoil of emotions inside me become slightly calmer as I have to put them to rest, maybe one day I'll come back and give them more worthy graves.

  Then I cast my view behind me and just take in the scene. The air was thick with the stench of burnt metal and scorched earth, a battlefield frozen in the aftermath of carnage. My boots sank into the mud as I took my first steps toward the nearest mech, its hulking frame twisted and torn. Smoke still rose from the wreckage, white tendrils snaking into the sky.

  Forty-nine, that's how many graves I had to dig now, that's how many I had to bury. Forty-nine men and women who followed me into this hell, fighting on behalf of my beliefs, and a shot at freedom from the corps. Forty-nine lives I couldn't save.

  I forced myself to keep walking, even as my legs screamed for rest, even as my mind begged me to stop and close my eyes, just for a moment, to escape the weight pressing down on my soul. But there was no escaping this. No running from the faces of those whom the previous me had led to their deaths.

  Before me loomed the wreckage of one of the 49 mechs, Jenkins. His callsign was Bullseye. Now, his mech was nothing more than a shattered husk, its cockpit buried beneath debris from the firefight. I stood there for a long moment, lost in thought, lost in these foreign yet familiar feelings, staring at the twisted metal, wishing that I could rewind time, wishing that I could make it all disappear, fix my mistakes, not trust Ajax.

  But that wasn't going to happen.

  I grabbed the pry bar that I had and got to work, gritting my teeth as I wedged it under a bent piece of plating. The sharp metal edge scraped and groaned as I pulled, forcing it open rather easily to my surprise.

  When the hatch gave way, a putrid smell assaulted my nostrils. My stomach churned, and the desire to vomit was overwhelming me as the acrid stench of burnt flesh, oil, and death. But I pushed it down. This wasn't about me. The least they all deserved was a shallow grave in this wasteland.

  I climbed into the cockpit and found him, his burnt corpse slumped over in his seat, his helmet cracked open, blood staining his burnt face. His eyes were closed.

  "I hope you were at peace before you burned," I told myself. It would be a small form of mercy, if it even counted as such.

  I pulled his stiff body out as gently as I could and laid him on the ground, his body turned away from the wreckage as his face was turned left, toward the cloudy sky.

  One down. Forty-eight to go.

  I moved to the next mech. Brooks, callsign Chatterbox. He was always the life of the party, according to my memories. His mech had taken a direct hit to the chest, a clean shot that split through his shields and tore into the inside of his cockpit before it blew it apart from the inside. It took me longer to get to him, the twisted metal making every movement a fight, but I kept going.

  When I finally pried open his cockpit, I found him. Part of his mangled body was crushed against the remains of the console. The rest of his body was pierced by tons of metal shards, and his hands still clutched the controls. He had fought to the very end, one of the few trying to cover our retreat. His eyes were still open, a fierce look frozen in time on his face, a part of his mouth raised in a smirk. He didn't feel a thing.

  I reached out and loosened his grip on the controls. I wedged my pry bar between the twisted metal and managed to pull him free... managed to pull part of him free. The rest of him was gone, bits and pieces of bone, flesh, and cloth scattered around what I believe to maybe be the base of his seat. It was harder this time, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. Brooks deserved to be buried with the others, not left to rot in this mech.

  And just like that, I kept it pushing.

  Simon, Santos, Maximus.

  One by one, I pulled them from their mechs, their cold bodies a grim reminder of the dangers of this new world, of my past self's fuck-up. Each name carved itself into my mind, etched there like scars on a body. My memories had almost completely taken over me as I whispered their names while I laid them down, a subconscious prayer for the dead.

  The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time I reached the last one, my second-in-command, Jess. Long shadows were cast across the battlefield by now. Her mech was the one with the least damage on it, almost intact at the front, save for all the bullet scratches and the small burnt section on her cockpit where a missile had struck but not penetrated.

  However, it was enough to dislodge a piece of glass from her HUD and pierce her heart. She had gone down trying to protect me, covering my flank as I retreated to the ridge with what was left of our forces. I never even realized she had gone down.

  I stood in front of her light-gray mech for a long time, staring at the barely damaged cockpit. Jess had been more than my second-in-command; she'd been one of my closest friends, I had come to call her a sister, and my daughters would even call her Aunt J. She was the one person I trusted to the same level as Autumn and that fucker Ajax. All that was for naught, because now... now she was just another body, another name to whisper to the dirt.

  Her cockpit was already open as I had taken her railgun earlier, and though I had managed to keep myself together when I did so, my hands were trembling now. Whether it was due to the fatigue that was starting to accumulate or because of my emotions was up for debate.

  Jess was slumped back in her seat, just like the others. Her face was looking up, as if she had seen the angels who had come and gotten her when the shard of glass, about 12 inches long, was planted in her heart. I stared at her, my throat tightening. These feelings I had for people I had never met in my life overwhelming me.

  "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely a rasp. "I'm so damn sorry. FUCK!" My eyes watered as I slammed my fist against the edge of her chair.

  I freed her from her chair and held her in my arms, stroking her head for a little bit, tears streaming from my eyes. I touched the HUD of her mech, and a few alarms of critical system failure popped up. The damage may not have been visible, but it was there nonetheless. I slowly pulled her out, cradling her body as I carried her away from the wreckage to her last resting place.

  The wind howled across the open field, kicking up sand, but I kept going. I laid her beside the others and next to Autumn and the girls' grave, my legs giving out, finally dropping me to the ground.

  Forty-nine bodies. Forty-nine graves to dig.

  I threw the pry bar aside and rested for a bit, my legs and arms aching. I then grabbed the shovel, actually feeling a certain weight this time around.

  I dug the first grave in silence, the sound of metal biting into the earth the only noise in the growing dark. The hole wasn't deep, it didn't need to be. It was enough to cover the dead, to keep them safe from the scavengers that would surely come, as I had already met one today. I doubt they would be as respectful of the dead as Michael.

  One grave, then another. My hands bled onto the shovel, but I didn't stop. I dug until my muscles screamed, until my vision blurred, until the pain in my body matched the ache in my heart.

  Forty-nine graves. One for each man and woman. One for each name my soul would never forget.

  By the time I finished, the first light of dawn was breaking over the horizon. The battlefield had been eerily quiet for hours, just the sound of my shovel biting into the earth accompanied by the wind. But all that had stopped, the world had stilled, it was as if the planet itself was holding its breath. I stood at the edge of the graves, staring down at the mounds of earth that marked the final resting place of my men.

  "I'm sorry," I whispered again, my voice barely a breath. But with the last bit of strength I still had in me, I decided to make a vow.

  "I may not be the same Aspen you all met, the one you all trusted, followed into this battle without question, and now, you're all gone for it. Every last one of you, even those who weren't directly involved, and it's his fault, my fault. For I share the same name and body as the one who led you here, the one who gave the orders, and the one who couldn't bring a single one of you home, not even his own family."

  "But I'm not done. Not yet. I may not be the exact same man, but I have been tasked by the Almighty with cleansing this universe, and I feel like I owe you this much. To start cleansing this universe by hunting down the bastards who did this. I don't care if I have to go at it alone; that was my task anyway. And even if I have to crawl through hell itself, I promise you I'll find them. I'll make them pay. I'll make him pay. I'll make sure this ends. For you, Autumn, Alicia, Aria, and Jess. For all of you. One way or another, I will see this through."

  "The battle started with 50 men and women willing to lay down their lives for freedom from the grasp of these degenerates and disgustingly vile, wretched corps that dare call themselves human beings. And now, only I remain. May you all rest in peace, may the Lord have mercy on your souls, and may you all rest in His embrace."

  "Ding! The Host's heartfelt words have touched God, the souls of up to 6 of the Host's fallen subordinates will now be available for purchase at the System Shop. The bodies buried will be renewed, and they will be summoned at the Host's current location. The price for each one of these souls varies. The cheapest one of these souls is 10,000 CSP. Their physical abilities will be half of the Host's current abilities, while their mental abilities will be the same as the Host's, with the potential to grow along with the Host.

  Ding! The Host has completed a hidden mission. Reward for the Completion of the Hidden Mission: Rest at last…: 1x soul summoning voucher.

  Ding! The Host has received a new mission: No Rest for the Wicked. Hunt down the ones behind the destruction of your forces.

  Hunt down and kill ??? Reward: 5,000 CSP

  Hunt down and kill ??? Reward: 6,000 CSP

  Hunt down and kill ??? Reward: 9,000 CSP

  Hunt down and kill ??? Reward:12,000 CSP

  Hunt down and kill Ajax Reward: 20,000 CSP

  Hunt down and kill Valina Reward: 25,000 CSP

  Would the Host like to use the soul-summoning voucher right now? Options for soul-summoning are the following:

  Jess (95,000 CSP), Santos (80,000 CSP), Ghost (45,000 CSP), Carlos (35,000 CSP), Diaz (20,000 CSP), Harken (10,000 CSP)."

  "Holy shit."