After equipping the Model 2065-S Truman Suit—the same powered suit I'd worn before—I made my way to the cargo hold. Inside, a chaotic pile of large asteroids greeted me, their dull gray surfaces rough and uneven. Each one varied in shape and size, some were larger than a house, others just big enough to be cumbersome.
Without hesitation, I turned on the mining laser built into the suit and began searching. The suit's visor scanner quickly checked the contents of the closest asteroid, verifying what I suspected. A rectangular object was concealed within each of these lifeless boulders—the object of interest.
The catch? Whether I would find what I was looking for on the first try or spend hours digging was all up to my rotten luck.
"Hmm... no. Still the wrong one."
As I expected, the search wasn't going very smoothly. With the enhanced strength the suit offered, moving any of the bigger asteroids was strictly out of the question. Instead, I had to chip away at their surfaces, melting and cutting through dense rock layers with the mining laser until the "package" inside would be revealed—if there even was a package inside.
By the time I had finished the first half of the pile, I had nothing to show for my work but oddly cubic metal clusters. They certainly didn't look like natural formations, but they didn't look anything like what I was searching for either.
"Well," I said to myself, wiping imaginary sweat from my visor, "considering the history of the weapon I'm after, I guess this is normal?"
The weapon's lore in the game described it as the remnant of what was once a Super-sized Leviathan-class ship. The thing had met a rather premature doom in this unforgiving stretch of the cosmos, destroyed by some unknown cause. Its components had spread over space, carried away by debris and dust over time until such an asteroid field formed around itself—the one we had navigated through earlier.
Each of these asteroids might hold a fragment of the vessel; the particular rectangular piece I desired, however, was the only treasure that mattered. The sucker was frustratingly elusive, though.
"OH?!"
When I reached the 44th asteroid, a familiar shape finally appeared beneath the rock's rough surface. My heart thumped in excitement as I sped up, chipping away at the craggy stone with newfound vigor. Slowly but surely, the object emerged.
Before me now stood a three-meter-long, one-meter-wide, and two-meter-tall piece of metal encased in rock. Its outline resembled a standard turret, but I knew at a glance—it was the item I'd been searching for.
Without wasting a second, I loaded the massive object onto a Maglev Cart, its weight pressing heavily against it, lowering the cart's altitude from five inches off the ground to two. I dragged it away from the cargo hold, knowing that removing the surrounding rock required precision far beyond the capabilities of the mining laser in my hand.
From the cargo bay, I entered a small service elevator, ascending to the level above. The extractor room was waiting for me—a stark, industrial space centered around a hulking machine. It resembled an oversized MRI scanner designed for giants, but its purpose was far different. This machine, the Industrial Material Extractor, specializes in separating useless materials like rocks from valuable alloys with molecular precision.
Carefully, I hoisted the rock-covered turret onto the extractor's central platform. The powered suit groaned faintly as I guided the cumbersome object into place. Once I made sure that the turret was in the correct position, I hurried to the control panel, adjusting the settings with practiced efficiency.
"Process: Rock and mineral removal. Non-corrosive target: Titanium Alloys." I mumbled to myself, my fingers flying across the interface, checking off boxes and fine-tuning parameters.
When all was in place, I reached out and pressed the huge red button on the console, triggering the extractor.
A low hum filled the room as the machine roared to life. The large circular apparatus at its core began spinning, and a web of invisible lasers converged on the object. My visor's anti-glare protection allowed me to witness the transformation in mesmerizing detail—a privilege that the game's repetitive, blinding flash transition effects never provided.
Piece by piece, the rocky shell evaporated in bursts of fine vapor. The process was seamless, with each molecular layer stripped away to reveal the gleaming metal beneath. Slowly, the turret emerged, its intricate design becoming clearer with every passing second.
"Amazing…" I whispered, transfixed by the sight.
Within a minute, the extraction was complete. The extractor powered down, its motors winding to a halt as the lasers faded. I pressed the blue release button on the console, and the protective cover over the platform slid away.
Finally, there it was.
Instead of the rugged stone surface from before, a beautiful turret stood before me, its polished metal shining under the room's bright lights. The familiar colors and curves were unmistakable. Nostalgia coursed through me as I took a step forward, placing a hand on its warm surface.
"Welcome back," I muttered softly, my smile growing as I spoke to the weapon by its name. "Brionac."
"So that's the thing we risked our lives to get?"
"WOAH!"
I nearly leaped out of my suit at the sudden voice. Spinning around, I saw Eva leaning casually against the doorframe, her eyes alight with curiosity as she studied the turret.
"What the hell?! When did you get here?" I stammered, my heart racing.
She raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "You really didn't notice me? I've been calling your name for the past minute, but you were too busy drooling over that hunk of metal."
I blinked, realization dawning. Had I been so focused on Brionac that I completely failed to notice her? Damn, talk about tunnel vision.
Eva shook her head. A bemused smirk twisted the right side of her mouth. "So, was all that commotion worth it? Or are you gonna sit there and tell me that this thing's actually an oversized coffee maker?"
"Ah, of course, it's worth it. This is Brionac," I declared, my voice tinged with pride. I tilted my head thoughtfully before adding, "Rather than just telling you, it might be faster to show you. Percy, display the stats for Brionac."
[Command received. Fetching information on the weapon: Brionac... Complete.]
There, before our eyes, a hologram flickered to life, showing the weapon's stats in excruciating detail. Thankfully, the ship's database contains data even on the ancient stuff.
[---
Manufacturer: Unknown
Type: Highly-concentrated Energy Laser Turret—Brionac
Version: Unknown
Charge: 100% / 60 sec
Cooldown: 300 sec
Range: 500,000 km
Power Consumption: 50 GJ/s
Energy Efficiency: 750%
Damage Against Shield: 1,200%
Damage Against Hull: 1,500%
---]
As expected, the manufacturer and version were blank—details lost to time. After all, this was an ancient relic, probably made in an age far beyond the scope of modern technology. I smiled at the familiar stats, but the sound of Eva choking on her disbelief made me glance her way.
"W-What the heck?! These stats are insane!" She exclaimed, her eyes wide. "This can't be real—right?!"
I understood her reaction. Such performance in the present universe was utterly absurd. The defensive turrets on planets and moons were much bigger, but could barely compare. But regarding its range? They were nothing in comparison. It was a weapon that could hit targets 1.67 light seconds away!
"Joke or not, we'll know once we set it up," I said, shrugging. "But first, we need to see if it's still functional."
It had been sealed in stone for some unknown period of time. Even with this corner of space's near-absolute-zero temperatures slowing the wear and tear, the passage of time was merciless.
"If it still works..." Eva muttered, her eyes on the hologram, a spark of interest lighting them up. Then, her tone shifted, dripping with greed. "Hey, your ship's already fully decked out, right? Maybe I could just—"
I didn't let her finish, cutting her off with a playful grin. "Oh, no, you don't. Do you want to take this from me? Forget it. It'd be a useless relic on your ship."
"W-We wouldn't know without trying, right?!" She countered, though the blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her desperation.
"Miss 'Let's Try It,' look here," I said, sighing as I pointed to the stats. "See this? 50 GJ per second. Your little ship's generator caps out at, what, 3 GJ/s? This thing would drain your power reserves in a fraction of a second!"
Eva frowned, then looked away. She was not accepting this by choice. My chuckle elicited a pout from her, and I couldn't blame her. The allure of this overpowered item was too enticing for any genuine gamer. Rather, if she didn't try to lay claim to it, then she's no true gamer...! Wait, was she one in the first place?
Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to Brionac. Under Eva's watchful, calculating gaze, I carried the turret to a diagnostic scanner nearby. The machine hummed to life, its sensors sweeping over the turret's intricate frame and inner workings. A minute later, the results appeared on the console, and my excitement was dampened.
"This isn't good," I muttered. "Half the internal components are completely broken. The rest are functional but nearing their limit. Even with repairs, it might only fire two, maybe three times before falling apart."
"Is that so?" Eva asked, tilting her head. "Then. are you still going to repair it?"
The answer was obvious. I looked her square in the eye and grinned. "Of course! There's no way I wouldn't!"
Brionac would be more than worth repairing. This weapon had helped me clear one of the toughest chapters in the story mode back in the game—with just a single blast! Letting it rot here, unrepaired, was unthinkable.
"Percy! Activate the repair station and prepare replacement materials for the components marked as broken!" I ordered. "Time to show off my Certified S-Class Mechanic skills!"
Eva crossed her arms, scoffing as she watched me dive into action. "Well, let's see if your so-called 'Certified S-Class Mechanic' skills live up to the hype."
I shot her a confident smirk. "Just sit back and enjoy the show."
The real work was just beginning!