CHVLR: Mission 4

Deployment Phase

D6 roll: 2

1. 10 of diamonds		A dark, heavy rain falls as you're on sentry duty one night. It obscures your vision and makes it impossible to see. There is almost a peace in it. What do you think about as the sound of the rain envelopes you?
2. Six of clubs		The only place that you've managed to find any peace and serenity on the base is inside your cockpit. More and more often you can be found reading reports and spending time off duty inside your CHVLR. Why has it become your refuge? [Pull from the tower.]

Mission Log

25/9 10:45
Designation: 23
Unit: Canter 01

The rain hasn’t let up. It’s heavy and dark, swallowing the base in a constant thrum that drowns out the world beyond. I’m on sentry duty tonight, but there’s nothing to see. The storm makes sure of that. For once, it’s quiet. No orders, no missions. Just me and the rain.

It’s strange. Out here, soaked through and staring into the void, I feel... calm. There’s peace in the sound of it, the steady rhythm on the metal around me. I let the noise fill the space where my thoughts should be. In the rain, I don’t have to think about the war, the Resonator, or the strange dreams that still come in flashes when I least expect them.

But I can’t ignore it forever.

After a while, the cold starts to creep in, and I find myself heading back to the hangar. I could go to the barracks, sleep off the rest of my shift, but I don’t. Instead, my feet take me to Canter-01. They always do these days. I’m spending more time in the cockpit than anywhere else. It’s the only place where things make sense.

Inside, the hum of the machine wraps around me. The rain’s just a distant echo now, muffled through the thick metal. I settle into the seat, the controls fitting under my hands like they’re part of me. Ever since that first full sync—when I felt Canter-01 truly open to me—I’ve felt a strange pull toward it. Here, everything is clear. No confusion, no doubt. Just me and the machine.

I pick up the mission reports I’d left in the cockpit earlier, but I don’t read them. I’m not really here for that. The silence inside Canter-01 is the only place where I can think, but even that’s starting to become... complicated.

Lately, I’ve been getting these flashes. They come at the edges of my mind—quick, barely-there images. Landscapes that don’t belong to this world. Sometimes, I hear voices. They feel familiar, like something I should remember, but they’re always just out of reach, like fragments of a dream slipping away the moment I wake up. Few understand the burden upon your shoulders. It echoes in my head, but I can never grasp it fully. Not anymore.

The Resonator’s to blame. I know that much. Every time I step out of a session, those fragments are fainter. The connection, the strange pull I feel—it’s weaker. But I can’t let go of it. It’s like something’s missing, and the more time I spend inside Canter-01, the more I feel like I’m on the verge of remembering what it is.

I lean back, staring at the dark screen in front of me. Outside, the rain keeps falling. Inside, the cockpit feels like the only refuge I have left. I think about the missions, the way the aliens have been moving lately—protecting certain areas, avoiding direct conflict. It doesn’t make sense. Not in the way they’ve been telling us.

The military says they’re enemies. That they’ve always been enemies. But that’s not what I see. And it’s not what I feel, either.

I close my eyes, and for a moment, I let the silence take over. There’s something there, just beyond my reach. A bond that the Resonator’s been trying to sever. Something far older than this war.

Maybe the aliens aren’t our enemies at all.

End of mission log roll

D6 die: 2

Tokens left: 8