Graves and Feelings

*AN: Had to take a break in the middle of writing this chapter, I got dragged to do a couple of things which ended up delaying the upload schedule. It's 1:21 AM for me, but it's 10:21 PM on Friday night in Cali, so technically, it's still Friday. Enjoy the chapter, this is a long one.*

Word Count: 4125 🙂

*Third Person POV*

Michael watched Aspen from the back of the MRAP for another minute before standing up and making his way towards its front. He stopped halfway and changed his path 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. Staring back at him was Charlie, whose tears had dried up and whose 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 Charlie, not wanting him to be more traumatized than he already was by seeing all of the corpses and body parts strewn around.

Charlie obeyed his father and came out from under the truck. He then closed his eyes as if he and put his hands over them as to not see anything. Michael bent down and with a grunt, he lifted Charlie into his arms. He then walked and sat him down in his truck's 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 before Charlie interrupted him.

"It's ok Daddy, I'm ok," the boy said with a smile. "You look awesome and strong, can we eat 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 right now as he expected.

"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 finding a transparent tablet with some gray lines as its outlines, he gave it to Charlie, "Here, watch something on the Hyperspace while I go have a talk with the pilot we rescued earlier."

"Ok, thanks, Daddy! You're the best!"

Michael stepped back and closed the passenger door to his truck, taking a breather as he leaned his back on it. He then walked over to Aspen who was still kneeling on the ground, sobbing his heart out. As he stepped closer, Aspen seemed to ignore his presence as he kept on crying. He only reacted when Michael stood behind him and patted him on the shoulder, his sobbing immediately dying down as if water had been poured on a fire.

The air smelled of burnt metal and the faint, acrid tinge of smoke which was coming from the railgun strapped on Aspen's shoulder. Aspen looked up at Michael, the emptiness in his gaze was as vast as the wasteland around them. Michael crouched down near him, his low and rough voice breaking the silence.

"Hey mate," he started as Aspen's sobbing died down. "Now, I don't know what it is exactly you're going through, but I can kind of picture it. You lost them all, didn't you? Your men?"

Aspen's breath hitched, his hands tightening as he fought to find the words, to bring himself to speak. His voice cracked when he finally did. "They're all gone. The movement, my squad… my friends… my sister. I couldn't—" His words faltered, as his voice shook, tears still wet on his cheeks. "I couldn't save them."

Michael nodded, as if he'd heard those words a thousand times before, though the pain in them never dulled. 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. I've seen good people fall for 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 been through it." He paused. "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 planet full of outlaws and degenerates."

Aspen blinked, his shaky voice barely a whisper. "I lost them too… my wife and daughters, killed in front of me after the battle had ended and I had surrendered. They-they," Aspen paused for a second, as if thinking of what he wanted to say, 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 couldn't bring himself to say anything, he had just been stumped by the bombshell Aspen had just dropped on him. "But I'll make them pay, I'll make then all pay. I'll kill every fucker that deserves death and cleanse this world, this galaxy, this universe of the pest that plagues it."

"I see," were the only words Michael could muster. The man before him was one who had lost it all, one with nothing but a deathwish now, and he would kill all those who caused this to him and many more to ensure history never repeats itself. He was a man who would dedicate the rest of his days to hunting anything that resembled what he had fought against. And it that claims his life in the end, then so be it.

Michael stood up and extended his hand out to Aspen. Once Aspen took his hand, he helped him up. "My name is Michael Sullivan, by the way. I may not be able to help you too much with your quest as I'm a scavenger, but, 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."

"I'm Aspen, Aspen Del Santo. I'm- I used to be the commander of the Phantoms fighting against the Cenollian Order… but you may call me The Reaper of God, or just Reaper," Aspen introduced himself to Michael, shaking his hand firmly. 

"Would you mind 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 he can help provide me information."

"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 Hyperspace information so I can send you my address."

Aspen looked at the device in Michael's hands, not recognizing what it was and his 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 currently was on, and who his family and friends were, 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 were 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," Michael said as he handed his device, now known as a Nexus, to Aspen.

"I greatly appreciate this, would you happen to have a shovel?" Aspen replied.

"Yeah, let's load this guy up first and I'll get one for you." As Michael finished talking, they walked over to the man who was still in a fetal position and used a metal wire to tie him up. They make it tight enough to ensure that if he tried to escape it would only get tighter and cut into his flesh. They 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 this is what was used to turn on the MRAP. He quickly pocketed it and looked 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 then put it in his pocket but before doing so he checked the time, it was 12:00 PM.

*First Person POV* 

As I arrive at the battlefield again I speak to Jarvis. "You may talk again, give me the notifications 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 bandits x12, assist x1. CSP derived from killing an opponent varies depending on how tainted their souls were.

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 walk over to the bodies of the ones who are supposed to be my wife and children. I squat beside them, and emotions foreign to me take over 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.

As I sit by their bodies, tears fill my eyes and I spend the next 30 minutes like this, stroking the hair of my girls as silence reigns 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 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 ones in the mouth of my dead wife. After about 30 seconds I was able to see as skin grew over the bodies of my 2 girls and then I watched as my wife's body twitched as some cracks and pops were heard. Once their 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 as I grab the shovel. About 20 minutes later, I stood over the trench I'd managed to do, the weight of the shovel was light in my hands, but the weight pressing down on my chest was the heaviest thing I had ever felt. These feelings have been something to battle while digging. 

The earth is hard, stubborn, as if even it resists the idea of burying them. All I can think of is them—my wife, 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 kiss them each gently on the forehead and then lower them into the grave I've made. I then pick up Autumn's body and place her in the middle of Aria and Alicia. 

"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 play 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 make a small cross on it and push it 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. I then 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 for the chance of freedom. 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 the previous me had led to their deaths.

The first mech loomed in front of me— 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, as if I could will it to rewind time, as if I could make it all disappear.

But that wasn't going to happen.

I grabbed the pry bar that I had from my belt 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 finally gave way, the smell hit me. The acrid stench of burnt flesh, oil, and death. My stomach churned, 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, slumped over in his seat, his helmet cracked open, blood staining his face. His eyes were closed. "At least he didn't die scared," I told myself. Small mercies, if they even counted.

I pulled him out as gently as I could and laid him on the ground, his face turned away from the wreckage, toward the empty 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 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. His body was mangled, crushed against the remains of the console. His hands still clutched the controls, as if he had fought to the very end, trying to hold it all together. I reached out and loosened his grip, pulling him free. 

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 like this, I kept going.

**Michaels, Harken, Diaz**. One by one, I pulled them from their mechs, their cold bodies a grim reminder of my past self's failure. 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 prayer for the dead.

By the time I reached the last one, my second-in-command, **Jess**, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the battlefield. Her mech was the one with the least damage on it, almost intact, 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 gray mech for a long time, staring at the damaged cockpit. Jess had been more than my second-in-command— she'd been my friend, I had come to call her a sister and my daughters would call her Aunty J. She was the one person I trusted to the same level as Autumn. And 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. Jess was slumped over in her seat, just like the others. Her chest was still as a 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 water as I slam my fist against her chair.

I pulled her out, cradling her body as I carried her away from the wreckage. The wind howled across the open field, kicking up dust, but I kept going. I laid her beside the others and next to Autumn and the girls' grave, my legs giving out as I finally dropped to the ground.

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

I dropped the pry bar and grabbed the shovel, actually feeling its weight this time around. I dug the first grave in silence, the sound of metal biting into the earth the only noise in the 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. Though 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 was quiet now, the wind having stilled, the world 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 cleaning 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 alone, that was my task anyway, and even if I have to crawl through hell itself. I'll find them. I'll make them pay. I'll make sure this ends. For you, Autumn, Alicia, and Aria. 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 degenerates and disgustingly vile wretches 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,"