Chapter 72: I Will Show You... My Everything
"I merely borrowed the cane for a few unavoidable cosmic variables," Rekka said, pressing a hand to his chest in mock sincerity. "Besides, Uncle Yang still has me. I can totally fulfill the role of his trusty walking stick..."
Welt closed his eyes. A deep, long-suffering sigh escaped his lips, as if he were trying to gently wake his own sleeping soul and remind it of the virtues of patience.
"Of all the people across the vast multiverse to mimic," Welt said, his voice dangerously even, "you just had to learn how to talk like Otto."
Without another word, Welt reached out and snatched his cane back from the boy's grip.
Rekka merely grinned, entirely unrepentant.
"By the way," March 7th chimed in, leaning forward to inspect Rekka's face. "What exactly happens after your Path of Elation changes your appearance today?"
Rekka blinked. "...After? After what?"
"Wait, hold on. Don't you have some kind of..." March 7th gestured wildly with her hands, mimicking a flurry of punches and explosions. "Ability copying? Stat copying? Ultimate move copying?"
Rekka shook his head, his expression entirely too innocent. "Nope."
March 7th's hands dropped to her sides. "...Just an appearance change? No hidden mechanics? What about your base stats? Not even a little boost?"
Rekka nodded.
"Wow. Today, you are truly weak." March 7th sighed heavily, reaching out to pat him sympathetically on the shoulder. "Don't worry. Today, you can just hide behind this lady."
"The bodyguard job is mine. Please don't steal my work, thanks." Rozaliya suddenly stepped right between March 7th and Rekka, crossing her arms and swishing her tail defensively to block the pink-haired archer's view.
Watching the chaotic Express crew bicker, the towering silver mecha standing a few paces away remained completely still. Inside the heavy armor, Firefly felt a deep sense of awkwardness. The internal gears of the SAM suit whirred with a soft, rhythmic clunk-clunk-hiss, making her feel like an oversized, heavily armed third wheel.
"Want to go for a walk?"
Stelle's voice broke through the mechanical hum. The tall, gray-haired Trailblazer had been hovering nearby, shifting her weight from foot to foot for a long time before finally choosing to follow the bizarre advice Rekka had given her two days ago.
It was a mental manual Rekka had proudly titled: How to Get Along with the Glamoth Iron Cavalry.
According to Rekka's highly questionable teachings, the fearsome Stellaron Hunter known as Sam was actually a cute girl. He had compared her to the 'Thunderbolt'—a mecha on his own battleship—claiming they were both the deeply shy type.
But precisely because Rekka had insisted on drawing that specific comparison, whenever Stelle looked at the imposing, lethal SAM armor now, her brain automatically superimposed the image of a giant mechanical death machine wearing a two-piece swimsuit.
"Okay."
Sam's reply was brief, filtered through the heavy, synthesized vocal processor.
In truth, Firefly desperately wanted to talk to Stelle more. Her heart hammered against her ribs, but she simply didn't know how to start a normal conversation. Worse, the current environment wasn't secure enough for her to safely disengage the armor.
Stelle and Sam walked side-by-side down a quiet, cobblestone street. The heavy, metallic thud of the mecha's footsteps contrasted sharply with Stelle's light tread. Warm, golden light spilled through the windows of the surrounding houses, casting long shadows across the pavement. The muffled sounds of clinking glasses and distant laughter drifted out from the homes, wrapping the street in a peaceful, domestic atmosphere.
"Actually, I didn't expect you to agree to come for a walk with me," Stelle said, a low chuckle escaping her lips. "Rekka said you're a cute girl, but right now... I really can't imagine what you'd look like in a dress."
"..."
"Yesterday, I even dreamed you were wearing a school uniform," Stelle continued, her tone completely deadpan. "It woke me up in a cold sweat."
Sam's heavy footsteps ground to a sudden halt. The mecha's glowing visor stared down at the Trailblazer. "...Why would you have a dream like that?"
"Because that guy Rekka said you're the shy type, just like the Thunderbolt," Stelle answered, as if this were the most logical conclusion in the universe. "So my brain automatically overlapped you with that giant robot in a swimsuit."
Sam stood frozen in silence for several long seconds.
"What is... the Thunderbolt?"
"A mecha on Rekka's battleship. A really cool one, too," Stelle explained, rubbing the back of her neck. "It's just that the fact he specifically showed me a giant robot in a swimsuit—twice—is a bit hard for my brain to process." As she spoke, Stelle tilted her head, her golden eyes scanning the sleek, silver plating of the SAM suit. "If you were to wear a swimsuit..."
Inside the cockpit, Firefly inhaled sharply.
That feels a bit bizarre, she thought, her cheeks burning.
"Actually..." Stelle's voice softened, losing its usual deadpan edge. She hesitated, her fingers playing with the hem of her jacket. "I don't know if I should ask."
"What?"
"Why are you protecting me?" Stelle stopped walking and turned fully to face the towering silver mecha. "You're a Stellaron Hunter. You should be an incredibly powerful, busy person... but you've been following me, watching my back since the day before yesterday."
Sam remained silent, the ambient hum of the suit's reactor filling the quiet street.
"This is my mission," the synthesized voice finally replied.
"Mission? Who gave you this mission?"
"Elio."
Stelle tilted her head, her brow furrowing in thought. "And who is Elio?"
"He can see the future."
"Oh." Stelle nodded slowly, only half-understanding the implications. "So he told you to protect me?"
"To ensure you walk the correct path," Sam said, the mechanical voice carrying a strange, heavy solemnity. "To allow the galaxy to reach the correct conclusion because of you."
Stelle looked down at her boots, piecing the fragments together. "So... we were very close before, right? Before I lost my memories."
"...Yes."
"Rekka said you care about me very, very much," Stelle murmured, looking back up into the glowing visor. "He said that to you, I'm the most important person. He advised me not to be too cold to you. He told me a lot about you, actually. He said you're a genuinely good person who just isn't very good at expressing herself, and he told me I should take the initiative to talk to you more."
Stelle talked incessantly whenever she mentioned Rekka, a fact that made Firefly's expression inside the cockpit twist into something deeply complicated.
On one hand, she was overwhelmingly relieved and happy that Stelle wasn't keeping her at a distance. But on the other hand... why did Stelle have to keep bringing up Rekka in the middle of their moment?
"Oh, right, this!" Stelle suddenly reached into her pocket. "He told me to give this to you. He said it can let you out of the mecha for a short time without triggering... what was that disease called? Anyway, he said it provides a temporary healing effect."
Firefly stared at the small, complex cube resting in Stelle's palm. "...Entropy Loss Syndrome."
"Ah, right! That's it." Stelle beamed, holding the device higher. "Do you want to try it? The inventions Rekka makes are always incredibly effective!"
Inside the armor, Firefly's eyes widened in genuine shock. "...When did he collect my medical data?"
"Yesterday, I think? He used some kind of scanner on you while you were distracted looking at March."
Firefly fell silent. The boy who always seemed to be laughing, joking, and causing absolute chaos was actually operating on a completely different level, doing things silently in the background to protect them all.
"Do you trust him?" Firefly's voice echoed from the mecha, her tone layered with complex emotion.
"I do," Stelle nodded, her answer immediate and absolute.
The massive silver mecha shifted slightly, the heavy shoulder plates dipping as if in hesitation.
"Want to try?" Stelle asked again, her golden eyes shining with quiet expectation. "I want to see what you really look like."
Another heavy silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sounds of the city and the soft hum of the armor's core.
Finally, the massive, articulated metal hand reached out and gently took the small cube from Stelle's palm.
"Alright."
Sam lowered his heavy, armored head, the glowing visor locking onto Stelle's face.
"Stelle... compared to the other Stellaron Hunters, I am not as well-versed in the human heart as Elio or Kafka. I do not possess a specialized, versatile skill like Silver Wolf or Blade. The only thing I am truly good at is scorching the earth—a skill only applicable to villains who deserve no mercy. I don't know how to get along with people. I don't know how to speak without sounding strange."
"Don't say that," Stelle interrupted softly. "I think you look incredibly cool just as you are. And back there, the way you stepped up to protect everyone... there was nothing strange about that at all."
Stelle's expression was so open, so blindingly sincere, that Firefly found it hard to look directly at her through the monitors.
"Okay."
Sam's voice was still a dull, electronic synthesis. But immediately after the word was spoken, the entire mecha emitted a sharp, deafening hiss of venting pressure.
A massive cloud of steam and brilliant flames erupted from the armor's joints, briefly obscuring Stelle's vision in a wave of heat and light. As the fire dissipated into the cool night air, the heavy armor peeled away, dissolving into embers.
In its place, a slender, silver-haired girl stood before Stelle's eyes, her soft features illuminated by the fading sparks.
"I will show you..." Firefly whispered, her real voice clear and trembling slightly in the quiet night.
"My everything."
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