Part 1
The room was dimly lit by the bluish glow of several screens.
The air smelled of cold metal and reheated coffee.
In front of the central monitor, a young woman with short, dark hair stood with her arms crossed, studying the data with unwavering focus.
"How's the new prototype?" asked a man's voice from the screen. His tone was firm, laced with a calculated arrogance.
The girl blinked, unmoved.
"Ready for demonstration… in theory. Still needs live testing, of course."
"Good. And the test subject?"
"You mean Akari Tsubasa?"
One of the monitors flickered, displaying a frozen frame: Akari, in her teddy bear pajamas, carrying Touma like a sack of potatoes.
"I heard she took down Duval's prototype," the voice continued.
"She did… though that wasn't the most interesting part of the event."
The girl switched monitors with a subtle flick. Now, Touma Kisaragi was on-screen, activating the "ED1" Exo, his face pale, wearing an expression that screamed I'm not ready for this.
"So? What's the issue?" the man asked, impatience creeping into his voice.
"The issue isn't the prototype…" she replied, expanding a neuromuscular sync graph. "In the right hands, ED1 could potentially rival Akari Tsubasa."
"But?"
"That boy. Touma Kisaragi. He's not a pilot. Not a fighter. Technically, he shouldn't even be near an Exo."
"And?"
"And yet… not only did he survive—he pulled off defensive maneuvers that aren't in any manual. It's like he was… improvising from instinct."
The voice on the other end went silent for a few seconds.
"Any abnormal readings from his Astra Core?"
"Negative. Still at baseline. The most notable thing in his record… are retro gaming trophies."
The man chuckled under his breath.
"So, a lucky gamer."
"Maybe. But it felt… too precise to be just luck."
"Research is full of guys like that," he scoffed. "Lab rats with decent reflexes."
"I wouldn't underestimate him, sir," she added quietly. "There's something… odd about him. I can't explain it."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let others analyze him. For now, focus on the demonstration."
"You'll send the designated pilot?"
"Yes. Project Void Reaver needs real data. And she's the only one who can handle it—for now."
The girl nodded. With a few clicks, a name in red appeared on screen:
Li Meiyun – Special Authorization: Neural Control Type V.
"The best pilot in Beijing… and the most dangerous," she murmured. "This isn't a test. It's a provocation."
"And if this Kisaragi boy is involved… we'll soon find out if it's coincidence or something else."
The call ended.
Only the steady hum of the air conditioner remained… and the flickering lights of the servers.
The young technician stood silently for a few moments.
She closed her eyes, as if calculating her next move, and then murmured without turning around…
"Don't just stand there playing mysterious…"
A barely visible silhouette peeled away from the shadows. Leaning casually against the wall, a young woman with dark violet hair narrowed her eyes in irritation.
"Hmph. How rude… I don't like interrupting other people's conversations," she said, her tone as sharp as it was refined.
The technician didn't flinch.
"You know what to do. Investigate this Kisaragi guy."
The shadow straightened. With a motion as smooth as it was silent, she drew her black katana, wrapped in dull gleams. Without a sound, she made a subtle slash through the air… and the world cracked.
A violet rift split the space before them, as if reality itself had been sliced open by an invisible blade. Beyond it—only darkness.
"I told you not to give me orders…" the girl muttered, annoyed. "I'll do it because that boy piqued my interest. Not because you said so."
Without waiting for a response, she stepped through the portal, her stride soft but full of purpose.
Silence reclaimed the room.
The technician rested her chin on her hand, allowing herself the faintest smile.
Unaware of any of this, Touma Kisaragi was facing the most primal, universal fear known to any halfway sane teenager:
Not falling asleep during Gen Kirishima's class.
"In any case…" the professor droned in his deep, drowsy voice, "the best defense against a Nulvoid attack—assuming you don't have an Exo handy—is to learn basic spells that enhance your physical abilities…"
He paused, scanning the classroom. Several students were already nodding off. Touma was one of them.
"Whatever…"
Huh? That's it? Touma thought, cracking an eye open.
"Starting tomorrow, research division students will have joint classes with the combat division," Kirishima said, as if dropping a completely irrelevant detail.
The whole class shot upright.
"WHAT?!"
"Oh, right… I forgot to mention that," he said, scratching his neck.
"In a few days, we'll have the first trimester showcase: the Seisen International Invitation."
Murmurs exploded across the room.
"Quiet… please… you're giving me a headache," he muttered, his tone unchanged, though his face showed the existential misery of a man who regretted every life choice.
"As I was saying, the tournament is meant to show the world how our institute… earns its funding."
"Recruiters, investors… and students from other NovaTech-affiliated academies will be attending," he added, yawning openly.
"And…"
He stared into space.
"…I forgot the rest. Eleonor or Valverde will explain the details. I'm out."
And with that, he grabbed his teacup and walked out. There were still twenty minutes left in the class.
"What a shameless guy…" Touma muttered, forehead against his desk.
"Even you'd give better lectures—and you don't know anything," added Jake, stretching like a lazy cat.
"Ha… ha…" Touma replied in a flat tone.
"Japanese people have no sense of humor," Jake sighed, shrugging.
Then Hina turned toward them, eyes sparkling.
"I got some new movies to watch! Wanna go buy snacks?" she asked like she was planning a covert military op.
"YES! I want those animal-shaped cakes!" Akari shouted from her seat, hands raised high.
"I just want some chips… and maybe a soda that isn't one of Jake's weird ones," Touma added with a pained expression.
"Hey! My sodas are amazing. Your taste buds are just outdated, bro."
Jake crossed his arms, his dignity clearly wounded.
"Though… I'm skipping the club today. Got a special training session."
"Training?" Akari repeated, tilting her head.
"Yeah. It's just for the mecha pilots. Don't worry about it," he said, trying to sound cool.
"Great! More cakes for me!" Akari cheered, raising a triumphant fist.
"Looks like a new pilot from China is arriving today, so they called all the elite unit members," Jake added seriously.
But by then, Touma, Hina, Akari, and Mirai were already walking away from him like they hadn't heard a thing.
"THANK YOU! LOVE YOU TOO!" Jake cried out, arms lifted in theatrical despair.
And so, while the group plotted a peaceful afternoon of movies and sweets…
A sharp-eyed shadow touched down on Japanese soil.
Li Meiyun—the best pilot in Beijing—had arrived.