Hitori Nojima: Death Stranding: The Official Novelization, Volume Two

“I just took your cuff links offline,” he explained.

His tears were probably real, but while he pretended to wipe them away, he accessed Sam’s cuff links using his own.

“In that state, there’d be nothing to stop you from removing them. If you did, the UCA wouldn’t know where you were or how to find you. You’d be invisible. When you use the incinerator, you’ll be reconnected to the network automatically. You can’t use it offline. I trust you’ll remember what I said?”

“Right. Absolutely.” Sam took the pod. “Thanks for everything.”

Before he ended his sentence, he turned around and hugged Deadman. That man who had first burdened Sam with Lou behind his back was now openly entrusting him with the BB. The weight and significance of the action was completely different from last time.

The shutter went up with a creak. Pale light streamed into the room and a shadow of a person was cast over the floor of the entrance.

“How’s the weather?” Sam asked. Fragile turned around.

“Don’t think you’ll be needing an umbrella,” she answered.

She had made a complete recovery. It seemed to Sam like her smile had become softer than before. There were no longer any gloves covering her hands as she put the umbrella away. She had stopped hiding her scars.

“I decided to follow my father’s dream after all. Don’t worry. I won’t get mixed up with any terrorists this time. UCA’s got my back. We’re the first private delivery company to get official approval,” Fragile explained.

“Sounds like you’re moving up in the world. Congratulations,” Sam told her.

At her chest, over her brand-new uniform, hung a quipu , exactly the same as those worn by Deadman and the others.

“Thanks. Wait. There’s something I have to tell you.” Her smile turned into a more serious look. “I didn’t shoot Higgs. Couldn’t pull the trigger. So, I let him choose. Death or eternal solitude on the Beach.”

As she bit her lip slightly and looked at her feet, it was difficult to tell from her face why she was telling Sam this. Did she regret not getting her revenge? Did she regret exacting her revenge on him, the same way he did her?

“Fair enough. You never did like breaking things.”

“That’s right. I find and fix what’s broken and reconnect it. I’m Fragile…” Her tone and expression lightened up a bit. “But…” She looked Sam in the eye. Sam nodded and opened his mouth…

“…but not that fragile!” they said in unison.

“Wanna come work for me? Could use a man like you.” Fragile asked the same question she had asked back in the cave so long ago. Sam had to play along.

“The world’s still broken. The same as before.”

“Come on. You put America back together, didn’t you?” she countered.

“Doesn’t mean there’s a place for me. I’ve got no ties to anyone or anything. I might as well be dead. I felt like that when we first met in the cave, and I still do.”

Fragile put her hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Don’t act like you’re the same person! You’ve learned how to touch. To feel. You’ve connected with people—with us!”

She was right. Ever since she jumped him back from the Beach, he had begun to get better. Yet he still couldn’t bring himself to be openly happy.

“Everything I touch, I lose,” Sam told her.

Fragile’s hand left Sam’s shoulder. Both her warmth and the weight of her hand disappeared.

A ray of light pierced through a gap in the thin cloud cover. It was a sight that no one had seen for a while. Fragile squinted up at it.

One day, a woman like her might be able to go beyond the clouds. He secretly hoped that she would.

“C’mon, Lou. One last delivery,” Sam muttered to himself as he began to climb the slope.

The ground underfoot was frozen and hard. But the blades of grass that covered it were soft, like they were newly grown. A young Bridget had said that the sand on the beach she dreamed of when she was young was made of the corpses of coral and shells. But this ground was made up of the rotting corpses of living creatures, too. After the Big Bang, the small amount of matter that remained that didn’t come into contact with antimatter came together to create this world. If it had come into contact, it would have disappeared. This world existed because something didn’t reach out in return.

Sam crossed a river that froze him to the bones, circumvented a cliff that looked like it was about to collapse, and struggled up the slope of a hill. Cryptobiotes wriggled out from the shadow of a rock and floated idly in the air. If it hadn’t been connected to the world by the Beach, this strange creature would never have been discovered. It would never have been preyed upon by humans, either.

Right in front of him was something that Sam had never seen before. He stopped. It was a dull white, rod-shaped object. Slender like a stick. It didn’t look human. No matter how humans died, it was unlikely they would leave bones behind. Whether it was a voidout or incineration, no trace of humans was ever left behind now. They weren’t returned to this world. Nor were they eaten by animals, other than the BTs. They were completely erased from the circle of life on this planet. Eventually, all trace of them would wither away and they would disappear.

Sam licked the bone. It tasted of dusty earth. Humanity didn’t return bones to the cycle of life and death, instead they remodeled them into tools of aggression and destruction. Humanity had made its own system and become the rulers of this world. But that too was about to end.

If I survive until that time comes, will I see her again? Will she be there waiting for me on the Beach?

It was impossible.

Sam flung the bone away as hard as he could. Being so light, the bone didn’t even follow a curve, it just dropped to the ground. It felt like someone was telling him that it was never going to reach beyond the clouds. It was of this land, of this earth.

As Sam reached the top of the hill, the incinerator came into view.

The inside of his nose began to hurt and his eyes began to water.

This wasn’t an allergic reaction. They were tears of mourning. Tears that the living shed in tribute for the dead—for they could not lay the dead to their eternal rest where they belonged, but, for their own protection, had to incinerate them into nothingness. Sam understood that now.

He was still outside the facility. To enter, he would have to verify his identity.

Should he go in? Should he go back?

The inside of the pod was dark. Sam couldn’t tell what kind of condition Lou was in.

Not knowing whether he was doing the right thing or not, he pulled out the cord and connected to Lou.

His mind exploded.

— This child’s special.

—This child will be the bridge that connects us all.

Sam heard a muffled voice and opened his eyes. Everything around him was blurry when someone’s face swam into view. No, that’s not right. Water flooded into his mouth as he tried to open it. It tasted like the sea. It ran down his throat and filled his lungs. But he wouldn’t drown. He hadn’t been born yet. He was still a creature of the sea.