The Siberian Defense Line became Kenji's new, frozen cage.
Days bled into weeks under General Volkov's patronage. Volkov was true to his word: he provided Kenji with top-tier access to intelligence and resources, ensuring his B-Rank status was untouchable by rivals like Commander Aoi. But Volkov demanded results, constantly pushing Kenji into high-risk scouting missions where the only measure of success was survival and the flawless execution of a structural kill.
Kenji's power grew fast in the frigid landscape. The raw environment was rich in heavy metals and high-density debris from constant fighting. The Yami-ishi core inside him greedily consumed the salvaged scrap, forcing the creation of stronger, more refined Gattai armor. He was learning to summon his black Kuro-Tetsu plating in milliseconds, using it for focused bursts of power or as a surgical shield.
But the cost was steep. The power was addictive, and the constant stress was wearing down the Sensory Lockdown he had initially achieved. His cynical snark remained, but the exhaustion was real.
The Call from Home
One bleak morning, after surviving a brutal overnight tunnel clearing mission, Kenji was back in his sparse barracks. He was cleaning the dark residue from his healed-over arm when his secure comm unit pinged with a civilian number—Naomi Sato.
He answered immediately, his voice dropping the arrogant edge. "Naomi-chan. You shouldn't be calling this channel."
"I know, but I had to," Naomi's voice was tense, laced with worry. "The Kōrin Assembly filed a formal complaint with the Child Welfare board, citing your 'unauthorized deployment to a high-risk zone' and 'unstable work environment.' Sanae is using it. She has a hearing date set."
Kenji slammed his fist down on the steel table. The dull thud echoed in the silent room. "Aoi. That bastard is using bureaucracy because he can't kill me in a straight fight. When's the hearing?"
"Two weeks. And Kenji, she's not just using the deployment. She brought in Kaito Jin as a character witness. He's going to testify about your 'reckless behavior' and 'unfitness.'"
The anger burned white-hot. Kaito wasn't just pursuing petty jealousy; he was actively trying to destroy Kenji's life.
"Fine. I'll be there," Kenji said, his voice dangerously low. "Tell Akari to pull me out. I need an official leave."
"I already tried," Naomi admitted. "She said your status is 'critical' and you cannot leave Siberia without Volkov's personal authorization. Kenji... you're trapped."
A slow, terrifying realization washed over Kenji. Volkov didn't just give him a job; he gave him a leash. He was an asset, and assets don't get custody hearings.
"I hear you, Naomi-chan," Kenji finally said. "Just keep an eye on Hikari. I'll figure out the rest." He hung up, staring at the scarred black lines on his forearm. If he couldn't leave, he'd have to use the very thing that imprisoned him to break free.
Volkov's Test
Kenji immediately went to General Volkov's command center. Volkov was reviewing battlefield reports, his face unreadable.
"General," Kenji stated without preamble. "I require two weeks of emergency leave. I have a mandated civilian obligation—a custody hearing for my daughter in Tokyo."
Volkov didn't look up for a long moment. When he did, his gaze was colder than the Siberian wind. "No. You are a B-Rank asset. Your value here is too high. The Tundra-Eater is mobilizing again. Civilians matters are secondary to the defense of the region."
"Secondary?" Kenji laughed, a short, bitter sound. "General, if I lose my daughter, I lose my only reason to control the thing on my arm. You don't want to see what happens when the scrapper runs out of reasons."
Volkov stood, his massive frame radiating intimidation. "Is that a threat, Ikeda? To your commander?"
"No. It's a calculation," Kenji countered, meeting the S-Rank's gaze. "I am your scalpel, but I need incentive. Give me a clear target, General. A high-risk mission that absolutely requires my presence. If I succeed, you grant the leave. If I fail, you won't need to worry about my custody hearing."
Volkov considered this, a rare flicker of approval in his eyes. He appreciated the cold, transactional nature of the deal.
"Very well. The Kyojin have established a deep-earth supply tunnel leading directly to the main Null-Stone vein near Sector 7," Volkov said, pointing to the map. "We have never been able to breach it. It is heavily shielded by something unlike anything we have fought—a defensive Shikō-tai called the 'Stone Heart.' Conventional artillery is useless. You will go in alone, breach the shield, and collapse the tunnel."
"The Stone Heart," Kenji repeated, committing the information to memory. "What's the defense structure? Metal? Crystal? Biology?"
"All three. It absorbs Aether and redirects kinetic energy. It is invincible," Volkov said, a challenge in his voice. "No structural vulnerabilities have been identified. It has no vents, no visible weak points."
Kenji's lips curled into his signature arrogant smirk. "Then the flaw isn't structural, General. It's design. Give me a day to prepare my junk. I'll be back in Tokyo for my court date."
Preparation for the Impossible
Kenji retreated to the hangar, knowing he had twenty-four hours to prepare for a potentially fatal mission. If the Stone Heart absorbed energy and redirected kinetic force, standard attack patterns were useless. He needed to find a way to make the shield attack itself.
He started salvaging. Instead of looking for alloys, he looked for highly dense, fragile, pressurized containers—old chemical reservoirs, decommissioned plasma coils, and heavily compressed fuel tanks. He also found something critical: several dozen obsolete Kesshō amplifiers that, when overloaded, would violently neutralize each other.
For this mission, he couldn't afford a slow, steady Gattai. He needed to create an explosive, single-use weapon, relying entirely on the chaos of the Yami-ishi to stabilize the volatile components long enough to deliver the payload.
He worked through the night, the freezing air ignored as he focused. His Kesshō Insight was in overdrive, performing thousands of mental simulations. He had to create a device that was structurally flawed, chemically unstable, and designed to fail at the perfect moment.
It was the ultimate technician's trick. It was beautiful chaos.
As the sun finally crept over the icy horizon, Kenji stood over his creation: a crude, multi-layered black device fused to his gauntlet. It looked like a cancerous growth of junk, held together only by the constant, humming pressure of the Null-Stone. He called it the "Structural Bomb."
He knew that unleashing this much unstable power would require his Sensory Lockdown to be absolute. If his control wavered for a single second, the bomb would detonate and vaporize half the Siberian base along with him.
"Alright, Scrapper King," he muttered to himself, forcing his mind into the cold, silent clarity of pure focus. "Let's go win a custody hearing."