The transfer field flared, swallowed Grow Savior whole, and vanished. Lemon watched the empty space where Axel had been, lips moving before her mind caught up.
"…Don't tell me he'll unconsciously pick up girls in the next world too—like Fiona or Ouka."
Her lover was, frankly, flawless. He made her feel cherished in ways no one else could. But his single, colossal flaw? Accidentally seducing women left and right. If he meant to, she could scold him. Unconscious charm was the real killer.
A chill of premonition. She shook it off. Axel was gone; White Star's command fell to her. No room for jealousy.
"W16, round up every idle tech. We're pushing deeper into White Star."
Echidna, waiting nearby, gave a curt nod and strode out to relay orders.
"Lemon-sama, we're coming too, right?"
A tech checking Ryukeios looked up, eyes glittering. The rest behind him mirrored the hunger—unknown tech was catnip to this crew.
"Today's the mobile weapon plant. That work?"
"Megilots—er, Bugs formally. Those, yeah?"
"Exactly. We can't run White Star solo. Megilots fill manpower gaps. Only three lines intact—we're optimizing production."
"Count us in!"
The lead tech pumped a fist; the pack behind him roared agreement. Lemon hid a wry smile and led the flood—nearly the entire division, minus a few glued to critical tasks—toward the production sector.
"Up close, it's brutal."
A tech whistled behind her. The lines were gutted—near-total loss. Three Megilot lines surviving was a miracle.
"Enemy weapon factory—priority target. Fan out. Flag anything useful for Megilot production; call me instantly. Top performers get first dibs on Kibuts next round."
"Seriously!?" "I'm in!" "No cutting!" "Like hell I'll lose!"
They scattered like shrapnel. Kibuts—suspected elemental transmutation—was the holy grail. No tech would miss it.
By day's end, Lemon's team had salvaged tech and devices aplenty. Line count stayed three, but efficiency soared. White Star-bred Megilots—numbers and specs to plug Shadow Mirror's manpower holes—ferried rift debris to Kibuts for conversion into vital supplies. Later, Lemon-tuned Megilots became linchpins in cross-world battles. Once one per tech became personal units, White Star's hangars bloomed with wildly customized variants.
"W16 incoming—scatter!" "Zephyld Crystal research is banned. You knew that." "She's heeeeeere!"
Axel had warned of the crystals' peril; Lemon forbade study. Still, rogue techs tried. Echidna—tasked with surveillance—fought a blood-soaked war of enforcement. Or so the rumors went.
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