Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 54 - The Great Third Years

Chapter 54 - The Great Third Years

As we slipped through the backstage area, I absentmindedly ran my fingers through Myrrh's silky, smooth hair, the sensation akin to stroking the finest velvet. She remained silent, though her cheeks were tinged with a delicate pink, her icy-blue eyes flickering with a mix of embarrassment and a cold, distant glare. Despite her stoic demeanor, she made no move to protest, allowing my hand to linger as if she were a reluctant pet indulging her owner's whims.

The hallway ahead was dimly lit, the faint hum of distant machinery creating an almost reverent silence. As we turned a corner, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows. Her silver hair shimmered under the dim light, flowing like molten silver, and her amber eyes glinted with a sharp intelligence. A red armband on her sleeve marked her as a senior, but it was her regal bearing that truly stood out—Michelle Gehabich moved with the grace of an aristocrat, each step purposeful and measured, like a sheltered princess navigating her domain.

By her side stood a towering man with a perpetually impassive expression. His uninterested eyes scanned the area as if everything around him were beneath his notice. He bore the same red armband, marking him as part of her support unit, and his stiff posture exuded the air of an unyielding sentinel.

"Oh, congratulations on your win, Mister," Michelle said, her voice smooth and polished, carrying a faint note of amusement.

"Thank you, senior," I replied, offering her a polite smile as I continued to stroke Myrrh's head, much to her silent dismay.

Michelle tilted her head slightly, her silver locks cascading like a waterfall over her shoulder. Her curiosity gleamed openly as she asked, "That weapon you used—Lightning Storm, was it? I've never seen anything like it. Was that your partner's Ultimate?"

The question caught me off guard. Myrrh stiffened beneath my hand, her frosty gaze snapping toward me like a blade made of ice. Reluctantly, I withdrew my hand, trying to mask my unease with a faint smile. "Yes," I replied, the lie slipping out smoothly, though it felt like a stone lodged in my throat.

Michelle's amber eyes flicked toward Myrrh, studying her with an unsettling intensity. "Oh, that's an incredible Ultimate. But yesterday, you had those spiky sword-wings. Does your Ultimate change forms?"

My heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, my entire body tensed. Of all people, it had to be Michelle who noticed such a minute detail. Her perceptiveness felt like a scalpel, cutting closer to truths I couldn't afford to reveal. The Blade Wing she mentioned was Myrrh's true Ultimate, a manifestation of her own power. The Lightning Storm, on the other hand, was a weapon of devastation—a WMD Series gifted by the enigmatic Machine God.

I couldn't let her—or anyone—know about the system that linked me to that foreign entity. The stakes were too high, and the consequences of discovery too dire.

"It depends on my opponent," Myrrh interjected smoothly, her voice calm yet carrying an edge of authority. Her words spared me from the burden of crafting another lie. "My 'Wings' can adapt, taking different forms depending on the situation."

"Oh, so you're an adaptive type. I see." Michelle nodded thoughtfully, her slender fingers coming up to rest lightly on her chin. Her amber eyes seemed to glaze over, lost in a moment of quiet contemplation, as if she were analyzing Myrrh's statement for hidden meanings.

Meanwhile, her towering partner remained an island of indifference. His gaze, cold and unwavering, lingered somewhere above my shoulder, completely detached from the conversation. The disinterest etched on his face made it clear that our exchange barely registered to him. Yet, his silent vigilance gave him an air of understated menace, like a blade concealed in plain sight.