Hitori Nojima - Death Stranding - The Official Novelization, Volume One

Deadman – A member of Bridges and an ex-coroner. He is in charge of BB maintenance among other things.

Die-Hardman – The director of Bridges, an organization created specifically to rebuild America. A close associate of Bridget.

Bridget Strand – The last President of the United States of America. She has devoted herself to rebuilding the UCA to reconnect a broken world.

Amelie – The leader of Bridges I, who went out west to rebuild America. She is currently being held in Edge Knot City.

Sam Porter Bridges – A “porter” who has rejoined Bridges for the first time in ten years. He is heading west as Bridges II.

Higgs – A member of Homo Demens who is trying to prevent the rebuilding of America and accelerate human extinction.

Fragile – The young, female leader of the private delivery organization Fragile Express.

Heartman – A member of Bridges who hopes to unravel the mysteries surrounding the Death Stranding and the Beach.

Mama – A mechanic from Bridges involved in the development of the Q-pid and Chiral Network.

Bridges – An organization created by the last President of the United States of America, Bridget Strand, for the sole purpose of reconnecting all of the disjointed cities and people across the ex-USA and rebuilding America.

Death Stranding – A mysterious phenomenon that affected the entire world. When antimatter stranded from the world of the dead comes into contact with the living, it causes a voidout.

BB – Bridge Babies. Artificially created “equipment” that allows its users to sense the presence of the dead.

This child’s special.

Countless faces were staring at him. They edged closer until they filled his entire view, before disappearing. Faces he had seen before, faces he might see in the future, faces he would never encounter and faces that died long ago; they all appeared before him and vanished. Pinned down like an insect under a microscope, he was unable to move. All he could do was let them examine him.

Which are you? A face he didn’t know swam into view. Am I connecting to you? Or are you connecting to me? Where are you? Are you in the past? Are you still alive? Are you in the land of the living? Or the land of the dead?

Somewhere in the distance, a whale was singing. The sound of a mating call. But is it? Couldn’t it be crying out in sadness?

One of the many staring faces, a woman, split from ear to ear, becoming one giant mouth. Small canine teeth crowded the mouth right to the back of its throat. It made a disturbing tearing sound as it gnawed through the invisible wall that protected him. The stench of rotting organs surrounded him. He watched a star explode, followed by a vision of a world full of the microscopic life that was first born to these lands. He slid down its throat, mingled with its gastric juices, before being pushed through its contracting and relaxing intestines. Finally, he was expelled from its anus.

A wave washed over the naked body, the ha , that was soiled with blood and excrement. A simple lump of flesh, it had neither hands nor feet. An enormous wave broke overhead, before bursting into a million water droplets and showering down upon him. His ha began to develop exponentially, its ageing and growth accelerated almost as if being struck by the timefall. Eyes, a mouth, ears and a nose burst forth as it took human form and sprouted both arms and legs.

This child’s special.

The feeling of being held and protected by someone else reassured him, yet… When he looked back up, he was once again surrounded by countless faces.

“Where are you?” he was asked as he began to feel his own body fade away. A bottomless fear crashed over him like a surge of water.

And so, his dream ended.

Now it was time to wake up.

“Sam Porter Bridges.”

His eyes opened at the sound of his name, and a woman’s face appeared before him.

“You’re finally awake, Sam Porter Bridges.”

Sam flinched as his mind pieced back together his last waking moments.

He had sought shelter in a nearby cave to avoid the timefall. After unloading his gear he’d lain down for a much-needed rest and must have fallen asleep. He couldn’t have been out for long, though.

“I’m sorry,” the young woman apologized. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

She wore a black rubber suit, protecting her body from her neck down.

“What’re you doing here?”

The woman smiled faintly at Sam’s question.

“Trying to stay dry, same as you. Timefall’s let up.”

Sam shifted his gaze to the entrance of the cave, where the storm of time-accelerating rain had passed and faint rays of sunlight were beginning to peek out from the thin layer of cloud cover that remained. Thankfully, it had moved on before the dead awoke.

“My name is Fragile.” The woman held out her hand, encased in a black glove. Sam frowned. He didn’t have time for this. He pretended not to notice her offer and made his way over to his pack.

Sam knew the mark depicted on the back of her suit. The unmistakable logo of two bony hands gently cradling a package. “Yeah, I’ve heard of ya.”

“That right?” Fragile asked musically. “I’ve heard of you too, Sam Porter Bridges. The Man Who Delivers.”

Sam continued sorting his gear, ignoring her. It wasn’t like this woman would have really known the real him, anyway.

“You want it?” Fragile suddenly held something out toward Sam’s face. A bug-like creature wriggled and squirmed between her finger and thumb. “A cryptobiote a day keeps the timefall away.” She popped the live larva straight into her mouth. Her noisy chewing sounded almost animalistic as Sam glanced back at her.

“Wanna come work for me?” Fragile’s smile softened her features, erasing the feral expression. “Must be tough out here on your own…”

“Yeah? I thought Fragile Express had plenty of people.”

Fragile Express was a delivery company that operated in the central regions. Ever since civilization had collapsed, they had chosen to deliver supplies to those affected by the disaster and had dedicated themselves to supporting recovery efforts. Unlike Sam, they weren’t freelancers, but an organized force made up of many people and resources whose mission was to help this world. Without a functioning country, a delivery company like them was indispensable, forming essential lifelines to isolated communities.

“Plenty of traitors. Not much left of us now, save for a few honest folks. And on top of that…”

Fragile removed the glove from her right hand. Her hand looked like it belonged to someone else entirely. Covered in wrinkles and blemishes, the veins that protruded from beneath the skin only served to accentuate the boniness of her fingers. They were the hands of a decrepit old woman. “Not much left of me either. Got soaked from neck to toe.”