Chapter 48: Inheritance
The fifth dimension bombs should have done it, total eradication of the BETA, but they didn't, obviously. The youth could see the confusion, the anger, the frustration and a shadow of despair haunted within people's face as they walked back to the base to prepare for combat. He subtly leaned and watched Marimo's face, realizing it was painted black with a substance of anger and confusion. It's only normal for her to feel that way, for them to feel that way. They should, the youth thought and agreed to himself that it was the correct emotion that everyone should have at the moment. He then turned around, looking at the girl who held his hand and followed him until now. She was impassive and expressionless like a flake of snow, strangely ethereal and almost alien to the eyes of the beholders. There was no hint of emotion on her beautiful face. It was as if she was a doll. But the youth knew it better than everyone, he could read that emotionless face better than everyone. He was with her long enough, he knew her long enough to read beyond her facial expression. He sensed fear from her, fear, uneasiness and perhaps something else. He bent low to her size, putting her small hand within his palms.
"It's fine," he said, "I'm here," he reassured her.
Kasumi shook her head in respond while grabbing the youth's hands with her everything in silence.
"Don't be afraid. You will be fine," he spoke softly, kissing her forehead and holding her hand, pulling her back to the base along with him and Marimo. Strangely enough, the youth could see that his reassurance brought about the worse of Kasumi's fear and uneasiness. It was as if it only fueled to her fear. He glanced at her every now and then as they walked, that fear and uneasiness never went away from her. They stayed and haunted her, hiding beneath that beautiful and emotionless face of her.
For a moment, he saw a reflection of himself through Kasumi's impassive eyes. It was eerie, eerily emotionless, eerily calm and eerily devoid of fear.
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Three hundred went to battle, a mere thirteen returned, and only ten uninjured and combatable TSF pilots. That was at best a TSF squadron, no more. Never before, the base was that undermanned. Worse, none of the 300 TSFs returned, none. There was only a hand full of TSFs remained at the base, 9 of them were hand-me-down Fubuki models, designed for training purpose and the rest were hand-me-down Phantom and Gekishin models.
The youth could clearly see that he could not win this battle as much as everyone else. There was no way this base can be defended with mere tanks, choppers, turrets and a single TSF squadron. This battle could not be won. This was a battle that no matter how hard he fought or how great a fighter he was, he could never win.
That was on quick debriefing. It was quick and shorter than everyone expected, almost too short and too quick of a briefing. The youth was glad that he made it back in time after delegating Kasumi to Master Sergeant Kyozuka to see her evacuation through.
The commander shared the same mindset with most of the attendees, knowing it was an impossible battle, telling non-combatants to evacuate and all officers in duty to prepare all the necessary procedure to abandon the base. The combatants, tank drivers, chopper pilots, bomber pilots and TSF pilots would engage the enemy at a minimum amount, fighting at distance and buy time for all non-combatants to evacuate. Also, explosives would be planted on the generators, both the manmade and the BETA-made one. The reason behind this was due to the fact that the BETA must refuel themselves through the generators. Without this BETA-made generator, they would run out of energy and die. Therefore, since the Yokohama base was basically an active BETA Hive under the control of man, as long as the generator's active, the stray BETAs, away from their base, hungry and running low on energy, they would risk everything to attack the base for their one and last chance at survival.
Good call, the youth thought and went straight to the changing room to get his exo-suit without asking any question. Good call, except the part about fighting a horde of BETA at distance, like it's possible to do it. How is it even possible to fight a horde of monsters with only a handful of TSFs without engaging in melee? It would definitely end up in a melee, definitely. This base currently do not possess the manpower and firepower to engage and fight the BETA indirectly through artillery and gunfire.
Surprisingly, the youth found himself eager for combat more than he thought. He thought he would be unable to do a damn thing, that he would be shaken, that he would be crushed by his emotion, hurt, went through PTSD like he would like it was always portrayed in drama and stuffs. Surprisingly, he felt nothing like that.
He could not cry and he didn't understand the emotion within himself. He would want to believe that it was sadness and grievance. But, reality was… he had not a single idea of what it was. He felt there was a hole inside him for a very long time since the White Knights were officially listed as MIA, yet no emotion could be squeezed out of that hole, that void inside him, none. He could not tell if he was simply being in denial unconsciously or perhaps Shirogane Takeru did died on the Sadogashima battle that day, along with the White Knights and he was in fact, a remnant, a hollow shell of what once was Shirogane Takeru.
The youth met and had a quick discussion with his newly assembled squad. They elected him as their commander and he agreed. Including him, that made eleven, a size of a TSF squadron. As far as combat concern, he believed that they would do fine. He knew them just enough to understand their proficiency in combat. In fact, among the men, seven of them participated with him in the suicide assault back at the Sadogashima battle. They were capable, more than enough to take care of themselves and watching his back. The other three, they were the survivors of the Cracker and Shark, what remained of them. He remembered fighting against them and their units in the past. They were among the veterans who saw more combat than he ever did. They would do just fine, probably.
The youth kept the discussion short and parted with his new squad mates shortly as they went to pick up their Exo-suit. The youth said he needed to grab a few stuffs first before he could go and change into his combat Exo-suit instead of going along with the team. It was an excuse. He could go with them, using the same locker as them but he would not. The group brought his excuse and they parted shortly.
He went to the changing room of the White Knights to grab an Exo-suit. Nostalgia, he felt it, his fondest memories flushed backward, running in his mind. However, his mind could not go to such length and dug all of his old and cherished memories up one after another like he would believe. They were there, in the void and stayed right in the void of his heart, locked and barred shut.
The room door was suddenly opened and the youth watched as Marimo walked into the room. She glanced at him for a second then went straight to the end of the room.
He heard a rumbling sound from within his body, probably his guts. Something cracked inside his head at the same time.
"What are you doing Marimo?" the youth asked.
"Fighting, I volunteered," Marimo curtly replied as she opened a locker.
"Are you stupid?" the youth asked, almost surprised at how loud his voice was, stood and watched as Marimo stripping in shock.
Marimo didn't reply, started to strip, downed to her underwear in seconds and changed into her Exo-suit in the next while appearing to have no interest to answer the question.
The youth stared and asked, "Why are you doing this? Can't you see that this is a no-win battle? It's not like it would make a different. Just go and evacuate with the non-combatants for god sake."
He stood and waited but Marimo never replied, she kept doing what she was doing. Impatiently, he launched himself at Marimo, forcefully grabbing her by the shoulders, forcing her to face him.
"Answer me!" he growled.
Her eyes were red from all the crying and tears back at the grave site. Even now, they were red, moist with brimming tears. And yet, the youth could see a fire flickered in those eyes. It was raw and fierce, unlike anything he has seen from Marimo.
"I could ask the same damn question. Why are you fighting? She barked right back at him.
"Unlike you I'm still a fucking soldier at this base. I was ordered to fight so I fight," the youth replied.
"Then I'm fighting. I'm, too a soldier and an Eishi. What's wrong with me fighting this battle?" Marimo brushed off the youth's hands, zipping up her suit.
The youth was speechless for almost a second due to the sheer incomprehensiveness and stupidity that came out of Marimo's lips. He glared, grabbing Marimo's formal uniforms, the pair that she wore for the ceremony and shove them to her chest.
"You are not fucking fighting this battle," he growled.
Marimo didn't reply, at least not verbally. She slapped his hands and glared right back at him in grudging silence.
"I said you are not fucking fighting this battle," the youth growled, moved his hands, reach for the zipper of Marimo's exo-suit, try stripping Marimo of her combat suit and forcing her greenish Imperial Army uniform back on her. And immediately, Marimo fought back. She grabbed the youth's hand, toppled him and slammed him to the ground in an arm-bar take down.
"First, it's not your call to tell me whether or not I get to fight," Marimo growled in a low and angry tone as she has the youth pinned to the ground, "This is my decision, mine. I will fight this battle."
The youth immediately snarled, "Are you out of your mind?"
"Second, you are in no position to ask me a question," Marimo reminded the youth as she put more force into the lock, bending his shoulder blade, "You haven't even answer my damn question. Why are you fighting?"
The youth grunted from the pain, glaring Marimo with his bloodshot eyes, flared up in anger. He tried to turn the situation around, flailing his body to remove the lock.
"Answer me, why are you fighting?" Marimo yelled into the youth's ears, twisting his arm to gain a more dominance position in the process.
"I gave you the damn answer. I am…"
"You clearly know that was not what I meant. Why are you fighting?" Marimo cut the youth off.
"I had my order," the youth barked as he struggled to break free of the lock.
"Why are you fighting?" Marimo yelled, jerking the youth bended arm to give him some extra pain as she prevented the youth from freeing himself.
"I have told you," he grunted
"Why are you fighting?"
He knew Marimo would not break his arm, he knew therefore he struggled wildly to free himself from the lock. But it wasn't that easy, it never was. Marimo kept the pin, relentlessly maintaining a favorable position through and through without giving the youth a chance. He was young and stronger than her. His physic was better but she had the upper-hand in position and skill. She pinned him down hard, applying even more force to the lock, just enough force to give him the pain without breaking his shoulder.
"What the fuck is your problem?" he yelled.
"Why are you fighting?" she asked the same question, applying more force to the lock.
The youth grunted from the pain. His breathe ran ragged. Still, he stubbornly tried to break free with strength, sprawling clockwise on the ground to make Marimo to lose her balance.
"Why are you fighting?" Marimo asked the very same question, putting more weight into the lock, lying down shoulder to shoulder with the youth to prevent him from escaping. She move in the same direction with the youth and provide him no chance to escape.
He tried and tried he did, to no success. Marimo kept repeating the same question as she would bend his arm, giving him a sharp pain each and every time he failed to answer her question.
"Why are you fighting?" she asked.
"You crazy old hag," the youth cursed aloud, frustrated from the pain and his inability to break free.
"You…why are you fighting?" Marimo gritted her teeth and twisted the youth's arm, making it extra painful this time.
"Fuck you,"
He cursed and cursed he did.
"Why are you fighting?" Marimo roared, persisted in her objective.
"I had my fucking order. What do you want from me? Why the fuck are we doing this?"
"Your eyes… you are so eager to fight this battle, aren't you? You know that this is a losing battle. Why are you so eager to fight it?"
"I…" hotheaded as he was, he tried to argue, spewing out anything, any excuse to defend himself, still, not a word came out. He could not come up with any excuse.
"You have no intention of living," Marimo roared as tears flew across her cheek.
He was silenced. Marimo's words hit home and he knew it.
"See? I knew it. Your eyes say it all. You have no intention of winning this battle let alone living through it," Marimo criticized in a loud voice, screaming into the youth's ears.
He struggled to free himself still and defiantly asked, "So what?"
Marimo kept bending the youth's arm with her right and immediately punched him with her left, "You coward. What do you even mean by "so what"? Everybody is doing their hardest to live, to survive. Why can't you see it? Why do you even think about dying?" She punched him and punched him and punched him, without stopping.
The youth used his free arm to block the punch, hardly succeeded. Marimo's fist rained and hit home each and every time. However, he sensed Marimo's strength behind the lock weakened and he wrestled, tore himself free of the arm-bar by twisting his center of gravity. He heard a loud noise and Marimo's groaning voice. He turned and looked, realizing Marimo was lying on the floor, trying to stand up. The locker doors behind her warped and distorted from her fall, he hit her hard, real hard. Her eyes were brimming with tears. Her figure looked awful. Her long flowing hair flushed disorderly over her half naked body. Her exo-suit was half undone, showing much of her skin. That sight, it was like a cold bucket that watered down his head. He immediately felt a sting in his chest, trying to give Marimo a helping hand which she immediately slapped away.
The youth froze, tore his sight away from Marimo's half-naked body and found himself running. He ran, escaping from Marimo, escaping from the scrutinizing look of Marimo, escaping from that anger and that pity directed at him and escaping from his guilt. As he ran, he heard Marimo's angry voice from behind, "Coward."
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"1st Lieutenant, your face…"
As the youth walked into the common hangar, several members of his mechanic team immediately notice his bruised and swollen face.
"Don't worry about that. It was nothing," the youth waved his hand and pointing a finger at the substitute machine he supposed to get into, "How is the tuning going on?"
The mechanics hesitated for a moment before a man replied, "The old man told us to leave that machine alone, paying no mind to it and instead working on other TSF."
"What?" the youth couldn't help but question if the head mechanic was sane or perhaps he has loss it to his old age, "I can't exactly enter a battle with a machine like this," he said, pointing at his second hand-me-down Fubuki model. It was not in a state where it could enter a battle.
"He told us to pass the message that you are to meet him at your squad's special hangar," one of the mechanic said as he wiped his oil stained face with his sleeve.
"What's going on with everyone today?" the youth clicked his tongue before thanking the mechanics and started walking toward his squad's special hangar.
He walked along the busied corridor filled with people. He saw teams of mechanics, running and moving TSF's part along with them. Every now and then, he saw the combatant troops, chopper pilots and tanks drivers running and rushing, minding their own business. Some of them saw him, waving at him as some sort of greeting. He waved right back at them, nonchalantly as if there was nothing wrong.
Ironic, he thought, what an irony it was. He was searching a reason to fight before, trying to find a reason to fight, to not give in to despair, to not running away, to move on and he did. He had a reason to fight, a family to protect. Yet now, when that reason disappeared, when that family, that home he was trying to protect was gone, he was more eager to fight, more so than ever. He wanted to fight and kept fighting. He wanted to enter a TSF's cockpit as soon as possible, fighting anything he could whether it was for sport or it was against the BETA. He couldn't care less about that. He felt like he could fight on and on, forever.
Then, he saw phantom images rose from the depth of his mind and from within the void of his heart. He saw himself and the white knights, young and in the early state of their training. He wasn't as competent as he was now. He was always the deadweight. They have to pull him up, along with them and never allowed him to give up. The youth shook his head as he walked, ignoring those phantom images which have invaded and distorted the very reality, his reality. He closed his eyes, blinked slowly as he walked. They disappeared, one after another only to be replaced shortly with a different version of themselves, one memory for another different memory. He ignored them all. He knew they were not real. He knew that they were only memories. Meiya died, Chizuru died, Ayamine died, Tama died and Mikoto died. Of course, he knew that better than anyone. He was the one who dug their graves, one grave for each of them. He even had their reissued dog tags with him inside of his pocket, not sure why he did that but he had them inside his pocket since. He had not clear out the rooms, their rooms and their belonging. He should but he didn't. He used all sort of excuses to delay it since.
Marimo was right. He wanted to fight. He wanted this fight, an impossible battle, and an unwinnable battle. He wanted to fight and perhaps if chance allowed it, he could see Meiya and everyone again. The weight in his heart, he could not endure it. He wished that he could cry, to get that weight and that void out of his chest, to scream and to yell. But it didn't work. He could not. Perhaps, Marimo could see it all along, she was trying to get them out of his chest. But even that didn't work. It felt terrible, very much so.
A phantom image more vivid than all others overlapped within the youth's vision, showing a smiling Meiya walking next to him. She walked slowly matching his pace, humming and smiling. The youth reflexively raised his hand, trying to reach out for Meiya. His hand passed through thin air and the phantom Meiya, the smiling and humming Meiya disappeared. He wanted to cry. However, his eyes were dry and tearless. He could not cry, still. He bit into the inner of his lips and continued to head toward the special hangar.
"Old man,'' the youth called out to the head mechanic the moment he saw him.
The old man rested his back to the wall with a cigarette in his mouth. He slowly turned to the youth, puffing a smoke. He looked tired and depressed. He was the oldest among the mechanics, in the mid of his fifty, but he seemed aged 20 years into seventy with his current look.
"Shirogane," the old man greeted.
"You call me, here I am."
"Yes, I did," the old mechanic nodded, "Your machine, I have finished tuning it."
"What machine?" the youth questioned, confused, turned around and searched.
The old man remained silent, chewing into the cigarette butt and puffed out the smoke. He directed his sight at a single machine in the hangar. The youth followed his sight and hit it right on a single TSF.
"Stop joking. It's not even funny," the youth said.
There was only a single TSF inside this special hangar as of now. With the Valkyries gone and his White Knight gone, there was no other TSF in this hangar except for one. His eyes have hit the machine even before the old man's sight gave it away. But, it has never crossed his mind that it was that machine. Never in is mind that it would be "that".
"There is no way. Not a chance in hell," the youth said, "Nobody, nobody other than Meiya could activate it. You know that. I know that. Everyone know that.''
Type 00 Code name Takemikazuchi, the end product and the masterpiece of Japanese third generation TSF. It was the superior version of the Japanese third generation model Shiranui in everything, speed, power, resilient and combat potential, everything. However, due to the production cost and the political tying to it, the Type 00 Takemikazuchi was given to the Imperial Royal Guard's TSF pilot only and thus became the symbol and identity of the Imperial Royal Guard. It was noted that even among the Type 00 model, there were many variants, starting from the Type 00-C, the cheapest variant to manufacture among all Type 00 models. They were always painted black and given to non-nobility TSF pilots who pledged their service to the Imperial Royal Guards. Despite being note as the cheapest and the pale imitation of the blueprint design of the original Type 00, Type 00C was a masterpiece of its own, proving superior to the Shiranui and many third generation TSF in specs. Next in the Line, Type 00-A, painted in White, had much better performance than the Type 00C, given to TSF pilots of samurai noble houses. After that, the Type 00-F, even surpassing the Type 00-A by a large margin in its spec. The Type 00-F were mostly painted red or yellow and given to TSF pilot of Shodai families. And lastly, Type 00-R, only a handful number of these units were manufactured due to its steeping pricey cost. They were painted purple or blue base on the color of the Shogun and the five ruling houses. By all aspects other than their produce cost, the Type 00-R were by far the best of their Type 00 family in term of specs and performance. However, above all, the reason why the Type 00 stood out among other TSFs was the fact that it was known as a unique sword, a sword that pick and obey only to its master. These Type 00 units were designed to activate only when its assigned TSF pilot used it, otherwise, it would remain inactivity.
The machine in front of the youth was one of its kind, the best and greatest TSF to ever create in the land, Type 00-R Takemikazuchi.
"The lass asked me to get this one readied for you. She had a message for you…So, go," the old man snuffed out his cigarette as he pointed at the Takemikazuchi.
The youth was quiet. He gazed at the machine with transfixed eyes. He stared for a moment, hesitated and before he knew it, his legs made the choice for him. He opened the TSF's cockpit and climbed inside. He mechanically activated the machine. The bluish screen flashed and the OS requested an identification scan before it could fully activate.
Thanks to the dim light, the youth saw a certain object tugged into the control stick area.
"Why are you here?" surprised words leaked out.
The youth's trembling hands went and grabbed it, carefully. It was the Minaru Kamui, Meiya's katana.
"Why are you here?" the youth questioned, his voice slightly trembled.
This katana, it was gifted to Meiya by her sword instructor during her graduation from his school. It was one of her most cherished items. It was her pride and the symbolism that linked Meiya to her past and heritage. It was her identity.
The youth stared at the sword in his hand and the bluish screen that prompting him to complete the identification scan. The youth complied mechanically despite his inner turmoil, brought his face closer, allowing the machine to scan his eyes.
It should fail. He expected it to fail. He expected a red warning window would appear to notice that the identification did not match and the TSF would shut down. However, the OS booted up and a dim light filled the cockpit, notifying that the system was online. The TSF came alive.
"Why? How?" the youth asked in bewilderment.
Suddenly, a window popped up on the HUD, a video record ran.
"Meiya," the youth whispered in a surprise tone as his eyes fixed on the record.
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"Takeru,"
Just a single word, it was softer and sweeter than anything he has ever heard. How he missed it, her voice, the way she called him. How he missed her, his beautiful Meiya. The tear glands that he thought to be damaged, ran dried was surprisingly came alive. He felt his sight started to blur and immediately wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"Meiya," he whispered, trying to reach her but his hand passed through thin air. There was nothing there. The Meiya in front of him was but an image, a recording that play right into his HUD. She was real but at the same time as unreal as the phantom image he saw earlier.
"I don't intend to give up easily, but just in case… I really hope that this message never gets to you, because if it does that means I could no longer stay at your side… because if it does, I probably could not see you again in this life time.
This is harder than I thought. I don't really know what to say here Takeru.
Takeru, I love you. I really love you. I feel that I am the luckiest girl in this world to have you by my side. I always love how kind and caring you are. Even though you are weak and a coward, you would give it all to protect me and everyone. I always love the touch of your hand, how you would brush your hand against my cheek and comb my hair. I love how you kiss me, tenderly and sweet. I have received from you more than I could ever ask. I really love you Takeru. I want to stay by your side for as long I could, for as long as I live…"
Meiya, the Meiya in the record said as tears welled up in her eyes and streaked down on her cheeks. Her image slowly blurred as tears welled within the youth's eyes at the same time. He forcefully wiped the tears with his sleeves while clutching tighter to the Minaru Kamui.
"Takeru, I wish to leave both my Minaru Kamui and my Takemikazuchi with you. I want you to have them since they are my most cherished items. I believe that a part of me reside inside them. I wish I could give you more than that. This is just my wishful hope but I want to stay by your side for as long as I could even if that was just a small part of me reside in these items and perhaps, be useful to you when you are in need of some help. About the Takemikazuchi, It was a gift to me from the Emperor, now, it's yours, Takeru you can do however you wish with it. If it ever becomes a burden or a political dead weight, please make sure to dispose of it completely so that it would never fall into the wrong hand. Though, I wish you to have it and I know it would aid you well in years to come.
Lastly, Takeru, I know you are very sad by our parting. But, please don't become the kind of man that you are not. Please don't try to something stupid. Please trust that this parting is only momentary and that we would be reunited in the world beyond. I will definitely wait for you and continue to wait for you. And you still have everyone, you still have the White Knights. I hope you do. But, I made this record with the worst assumption I have in mind, it is unlikely but in the case that you are truly alone… Please, please find the strength and courage in you to live and move on. Please search for anything, any reason to give you the courage to live and to fight Takeru. I know I'm being unreasonable but please Takeru, I don't want to see you again so soon. I don't want to meet you so soon only to hear that you, the man I love give in and die for some stupid reasons. Takeru, Ikinasai, for me, Ikinasai."
The record came to an end, it ended. The youth still sat in his seat, sobbing with his hands covered half of his face. He began to sob as his vision blurred into tears. His vision completely distorted. He could not stop the tears from flowing. He cried.
"Meiya, I miss you. I miss you so much," he cried in a quiet and lonely voice, "You are really unfair. Why did you break our promise? I have return home like I promise. Where are you? Why are you telling me to live on? I have nothing to live or to fight for now that you are not here."
The youth cried his heart out. He cried and cried he did, without caring of anything else. He thought of Meiya. He missed her, terribly so. He wanted to hug her. He wanted to feel her warmth with his fingers. He wanted to kiss her and no longer could he. She's gone, forever. He did thought about dying in battle to see her again real soon and now he was forbidden from doing that. He thought, what a terrible lover she was for doing and saying something like that, how he would hate her for that. And he thought of her final word in the record. "Ikinasai".
Why using that word in particular? Why did she use that word instead of using "Ikiro" which would simply mean "to live" or using "tatakai" which mean "to fight"? Why did she use the word "Ikinasai"? What did she mean by that? Did she want him to live or she want him to fight or live fighting or fight to live? However, he felt that the word "Ikinasai" had an impact on him, like a mysterious code, a supreme order that compelled him to obey for the rest of his life.
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"Feel better?" the old man asked.
"No, I feel like shit," the youth replied. His eyes were red, but they were lit as if there was a fire inside, "Anyway, thank you."
The youth understood why the old man purposely made sure nobody was there to watch him crying. The old man understood that all of the combat personnel would heavily depend the youth on his reputation and skill. Therefore, the youth would hate to let other see his weak side, how he cry openly and how he could be so emotional. But above all, the old man kept such secret, about Meiya, about the Takemikazuchi and the record without sharing it with anybody until this moment.
"You're welcome," the old man nodded, "You owe me for this. Tuning this machine to your specs alone by myself was a difficult job, I expect something great after this."
"Champaign, vintage, 1980, I had one in my room, what do you say? Good?"
"Great. Make sure you deliver it yourself after this."
"I will," the youth ended the conversation and headed out with his new machine.
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As far as parameter and specs concerned, the youth has never piloted anything like this, not even close. He piloted a Fubuki which was known for its simplicity. He piloted a Gekishin which is known for its tough defense despite its drawback in weights and obsolete design. He had many chances to toy with the Wadatsumi, TSA-Type-81 Wadatsumi a variant of the Gekishin which was modified for aquatic combat thanks to his connections with the UN marine TSF pilots, it was a tough machine, a powerhouse. Even the Eagle, he had chances to pilot them after begging comrades for an opportunity at trying their machines, strong and fast they were. And even the Mk II, his illegally modified machine, insanely wacky and powerful in its own right. This machine, Type 00-R Takemikazuchi, it left them in the dust in term of specs and parameter.
It's a beast, a terrifying beast with great strength and power. He could sense it without trying. The youth took his time to adjust to his machine, commanded it to do simple task. The machine obeyed marvelously to the minute detail. The old mechanic really did a terrific job in tuning this beast of a machine to the youth's liking.
The control sticks felt somewhat foreign in his palm, perhaps due to their strikingly resemblance to that of a katana's handle. But, it's a minor discomfort, the youth believed that he would get used to that in no time.
As the youth walked his new TSF toward the meeting ground to assemble with his new squad, he felt a strange connection with his machine. He could not quite put it into words. Something was there all along, an invisible link, a bond existed, connected man and machine together.
"We might as well win this battle," he said, not quite confident in the authenticity of his words. He knew it better than anyone that this was a battle that he could never win. However, he had a feeling, an inconsequential and nonsensical feeling that he might never suffer a defeat ever again.
That day, the failed knight, the rejected knight, the lord-less knight met the most unlikely man to be its master. A knight of steel it was, strong and proud, it was a gift from the Emperor to the Shogun herself and became a gift to a great person. But a gift it was, as powerful and majestic as it was, it was rejected. It was rejected and became a piece of junk, humiliated and left to be covered in spider web and dust. It was reduced to be a joke, a joke of knight, a rejected knight, a knight that failed to serve his lord, a knight that failed to live to his lifetime purpose and until the end, he watched, failing to protect his lord, not that he was allowed to. He failed and failed he did, miserably.
He was the strongest knight, the best knight to ever be created in the land. People could forget about that. People could make a joke about that, of how as strong a knight he was… was nothing more than piece of junk. But he alone remembered, his purpose.
A failed knight he was, a rejected knight he was, a piece of junk he was, the knight of steel and iron would now devote his entire life to uphold a single promise, to serve his unlikely master, now and forever, until death and destruction do them apart.
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Author section:
If you are reading this… it would mean that I have…
… uploaded this chapter on my page. Yeah, I was joking. Anyway, this chapter was originally supposed to be a single chapter with chapter 47. Life goes on. However, I felt that chapter 47 has too many exposition in its paragraph that it would lessen the impact that it had and therefore splitting it into two. I might as well spitting it into three chapters in the future. Guys, if you have any comment on that, please do so. I appreciate and welcome any opinion as long as it sounds.
This is one of the many chapters that I have really struggled to write. I planned this chapter for almost two years ever since I started writing this fanfic, and believe me, I drafted it again and again. I had many versions of it, way too many than I thought I could have, ranging from the more emotional to the more depressing and dark one. Though, I believe that this one would suit the flow of this story the best out of all the drafts I had due to its simplicity and the fact that none of the characters have ever had a moment to really mourn and truly feel the loss they experienced.
A thank you to kenshin135 for your notice regarding the missing content of chapter 18. For some reason, it seems to be replaced by chapter 46. I will fix it very shortly….except that I just could not find the backup for that specific chapter in my laptop… just my luck… I might as well rewrite that whole chapter…. Or perhaps that whole arc….starting now.
On a side note, I figure that you all must feeling depressed and bored with this dream sequence by now. I will switch it back to its real time in two or three chapters… or perhaps four, maybe five? I'm still drafting these chapters and feeling unsatisfied with their current state, so I will not upload them any time soon. So the next update will take a while… it will include the remake version of the Sadagiri's rebellion arc and the conclusion of this post Sado-alternate world arc.
Final words, thank you for reading and supporting.