Chapter 1 An Inconvenience

"Hard to explain" did not begin to accurately describe his current situation. "Hard to explain" was best used for situations involving embarrassing deaths through sexual misadventure, not the centuries long displacement currently being experienced.

His name was Strayed. Last Lynx of ORCA. A super-soldier mercenary fighting in the twenty-fifth century against The League of Ruling Corporations for the future of Earth. He had hunted, slaughtered, and conquered his way across the world against armies, Lynx, and Arms Fort battle stations.

At the end of his campaign, fighting the cause for dead men he respected, he had succeeded, only to get caught in a ten-megaton explosion from a defeated Answerer Class Arms Fort. Yet instead of a quick death, he found himself back, to the year 2016, in a nation called Japan.

Highly confused but not incapable of decision, he had moved to hide the tool of his trade. A fourth generation Armored Core NEXT. Despite being one of the most advanced weapon systems ever created, the ten-meter-tall mech was near useless after his final battles. The armor was ruined, mechanisms slow and sticking, sensors half blinded, heat sinks melted, and ammo depleted; it had but two useful components left.

It's computer systems, and its reactor.

Having successfully hidden the mech in an abandoned warehouse, he first used the computer systems to hack his way into government networks to not only make himself a legal citizen of this land, but also to set up his next step.

It took weeks to build, but he had successfully removed the miniaturized cold-fusion Kojima Reactor from his NEXT and incorporated it into the local power grid. Set at a safe setting, the reactor could sustain 75 Terawatt hours of energy every year, which by his count was three times more powerful than the best nuclear reactors of this time.

Yet making millions from a self-sufficient reactor and selling patents for advanced technology wasn't good enough. As a Lynx, he lived for violence. Hunting and ending targets was hard coded into his split psychology.

Unfortunately, society was not in collapse. Corporations did not rule the world. Mercenaries were not the middle class. His kind of work was not in high demand. So, he had to go looking for it.

Tokyo-Upper-class District/ 22:00

The lights of Tokyo did not impress him. He had seen greater mega-structures in his own life that dwarfed his current surroundings, both in scale and capacity. Yet he was on a mission. The most basic and straightforward mission he had hoped he would not repeat. Looking for work.

He knew exactly where he was going. A side entrance to an upscale office led him to a heavy door with a sliding view-port. Knocking heavily, he waited a moment before a face with hard, dark eyes appeared in the slit.

"Fuck off Gaijin."

The slide shut violently. With a sigh, Strayed readied himself, put on his best smile, and knocked again.

Before the slider had finished opening, he had already punched the door. Right off its hinges. The man on the other side became trapped beneath the door. With his opening made, Strayed leapt into the room, eyes up and scanning for threats.

His eyes fell on a surprised guard, stunned and reaching for a gun on the table. Before he could raise it, the soldier was upon him, striking fragile pressure points in his arms and shoulders, disabling them. The man stood, his gun clattering to the ground while his arms hung weakly at his sides.

Without pause Strayed had already ran into the next room, a group of three men were up with guns in hand. A nearby table rested at his feet. With a flick of his ankle the table was flung at two of the men. The third man was too surprised to shoot, doubly so when the lone Lynx rushed him, jumping over his head and kicking him in the back. After falling to the floor, the man turned to regard his attacker, only to find an air duct had been smashed open and the Lynx was nowhere to be seen.

. . .

The boss in the building held his gun toward the door. A calm expression on his face. He was an older man of high esteem. Respected and feared in the city. He considered who had been foolish enough to break into his building and attack his men. If they were after him, they would have a hard time getting past one hundred men, including his best fighters, and through the single door to his office.

He didn't have time to turn around when his ceiling collapsed, and then felt the strong arms of a tall man wrap threateningly around his neck.

With a choke and a gasp, the man struggled to speak. Fortunately, Strayed was ready.

"Listen. Not here to fight. Just looking for work."

The calm, foreign voice spoke into his ear.

"Y-y-you broke into here! Just to look for work! Do you know who we are!?" The older man exclaimed.

"Mmmm, Yakuza last I checked. Unless, I'm mistaken. This isn't the orphanage is it?"

"Fuck You!"

"Heh, well, whatever, point is I'm looking for work and your organization is the closest thing offering what I need."

"You think we just hand out jobs to any trash that walks in here, huh punk?"

"Oh, you have got it all wrong old man."

With a shove, the boss was freed from his grasp and collapsed onto his desk. He stood and turned, gun still in hand, at his attacker.

With his gun on target, a hand shot out of the dark, removing the slide from it and leaving half a gun left in his hand. From the dark of his office. Another hand lightly threw something at the boss, who caught it at his chest. Bringing it up, he was shocked to see he was holding 1,000,000 Yen.

"You see, I'm not interested in money. I just want to work. As a cleaner. And you seem like the only organization in the area to offer that kind of thing."

The man regarded the words and the money in his hand. Smiling, he lowered his half gun and took his attacker seriously.

"If you just wanted to kill for fun, why didn't you go to the Middle-East? It's open season on terrorists now."

The shadow he had been speaking to shrugged.

"My main source of income is energy and patents. Can't do either of those without a stable infrastructure. And I don't kill for fun. It's just what I do best."

The Yakuza boss considered the offer. Smiling deviously, he extended his hand.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to see an example of your work first. I have a 'job' a few rooms over. If you are up for it…Mr?..."

Stepping into the light, a young man, European/Middle-Eastern mix with dark hair and cold, orange eyes stepped up to him. He was dressed in dark combat fatigues and a faded and worn black trench coat. He raised his hand as well and shook it.

"James Klein. But you can call me Strayed."

. . .

Led apprehensively to a dark room, Strayed strode into it and saw a man tied to a chair, a hood on his head.

"This the guy?"

"Yes. Caught this fucker skimming our funds for himself. But let's make this quick, I have to oversee the damage you did breaking in here."

The Yakuza boss took out his gun and turned it for Strayed to take, but he declined.

"Actually, I'd like you to see how committed I am to the job if you don't mind."

The boss shrugged but nodded. Strayed removed his trench coat and handed it to one of the Yakuza men. The man spat on his coat.

Strayed turned to the man tied in the chair. Without hesitation his right hand burst forward and penetrated the man's chest, lifting him while he did so.

The man screamed horribly and loudly, kicking and choking with his hands still bound. With another motion Strayed threw his hand down, the man collapsing in a heap on the floor. A still beating organ in his hand.

Turning around the eyes of the boss and his thug were wide. The man with his coat took out a handkerchief and began to clean the coat before handing it back.

With a sigh and a smile, Strayed took his coat back, taking the handkerchief as well to clean his bloodied hand.

"A pleasure doing business with you. Let's do this again. Real soon."

Author's Note: Welcome reader. This is not my first attempt at a fanfiction story. My first one started five years ago and I had to stop because my main character's design had changed drastically. As well, I kept adding sub-plot onto sub-plot to the point that a story that was originally similar to this in scale at the outset would come to encompass an entire planet. I haven't given up on that story, but I will need to rewrite it in it's entirety.

This story I started just over half a year ago, after playing Doki Doki for the first time. I thought, "What if I put my OC into this world?" and this story was the answer. Do not worry, I have every intention of finishing it, and a dozen chapters are already ready, waiting to be edited for release. While my approach to the 'Armored Core' part of the story is imaginative at best and controversial at worst, I hope it does not remove from entertainment I hope to bring you. Please Enjoy!

Edit: Added and extended some breaks. The ". . ."s in there. Also italicized some lines for consistency.

Edit2: Added a line break between the end of the chapter and the Author's Note at the end of each chapter. Doing this for all chapters.

Edit3: Added details about cover art per details of contract.

Edit4: Somehow misspelled "Answerer" just a few lines in, and that mistake has been shown for months. Big oof on my part.

Thanks to Cyba-Fyba for the incredible cover art. Check out their other works or support them on sites such as Reddit, Deviant Art, and Twitter.