The Greatest Mecha-Chapter 34: A Run-In With A Ghost

That day, Amy had woken up earlier than usual. After she had freshened up, she walked out of her room and over to the training room. The training room was open at all times, but that wasn’t why she was waking up early. The reason she was up and about at that time was to find the so-called mech designing room.

After she had run into her childhood friend days earlier, she had been trying to find any clue as to his whereabouts. Following her promotion from trainee to first-level officer—or in other words, cadet—she had expected to find the room, but it seemed impossible.

Every time she approached someone about it, they always seemed too impulsive to divulge the location for some reason. Those that did manage to talk spoke of the place like some fabled room that existed on another planet. She wished she had access to some map of the mech division base, but there was none. She had no memory of every path she took in her search each day.

Alto meant a lot to her—he was her best friend. But more than that, she wanted to see him again. As she walked down one of the paths she hadn’t passed before, she thought about the recovering mech pilots from the struggling battleship.

As much as she tried to gather information from them, she wasn’t classified to come into contact with them. It felt frustrating, but she wanted to know what war they had fought in. Since the chances of a kaiju-infested planet in their star system were very low, she doubted that was the case. And since their battleship was badly damaged, that must have meant it was a battle in space. She ruled out the possibility that they were attacked by an alien race.

Alien species did not exist in their star system either, so the only thing that could have put their lives in danger was space pirates. It wasn’t uncommon, as they existed in almost every star system—always hiding on some uninhabitable asteroid or unregistered planet, or in some far star system like Xardar.

She knew measures would be taken to ensure that the pirates were dealt with or chased away. She knew it was far above her jurisdiction, but she desperately wanted to be free from the confines of planet Soto. She wanted some action, and she hated that she lacked that.

Soto was a quiet planet—it was the same as being dead, and she hated that. She had no idea what the mech division base stationed there even did aside from occupy space. She had heard of cross-division competitions held in every star system, where various mech pilots in training battled and challenged each other. With her track record, she knew it was a possibility. But without any action, she highly doubted it. After the test with the Shadow Dancers, she had yet to pilot a mech again, and she wanted so desperately to feel that again.

She came to a sudden halt just then as someone appeared before her. A scream escaped from her lungs as she jumped back in fear. She was sure no one had been there a second ago—so where did this person come from? Amy’s trained instinct kicked in, and she threw a kick the moment she felt grounded.

To her surprise, the person caught her by the foot, stopping her attack with ease. Amy did not look shocked—rather, she looked threatened.

"It’s you," Eleven said as he let go of her leg, causing her to stagger backwards before she stabilized herself. "I apologize, but your presence here has been very... recent."

Amy recognized him as the boy from days before, but she didn’t understand the gesture or what he meant by "your presence."

"Why—how did you sneak up on me?" she asked in a commanding tone.

Eleven looked as nonchalant as ever. His pale face showed no emotion, and his fluffy white hair was tied back with a small rubber band. He was dressed in casual clothing, like he was going for a stroll.

"Which do you want me to answer first, the how or the why?"

Amy raised an eyebrow. "Both."

Eleven then went mute and said nothing.

Amy groaned and hissed at him. "You’re weird."

Eleven eyed her from head to toe and opened his mouth to speak—but then closed it shortly after. This further annoyed Amy.

"Well, are you going to say something?"

Eleven sighed. "You’re dangerous." With that, he walked past her.

Amy groaned again. "That was rude. I’ve never met someone as insufferable as you." When she turned back, he was gone without a trace, which baffled her even more. The hallway was long, meaning there was no way he could have reached the next intersection, even if he had been running. But he seemed to have vanished without making a sound.

"Fuck, did I just imagine that guy?" she said in disbelief as she turned and walked away to the training room.

It took her a few minutes to get there, and when she did, the rest of her class was already there—just a handful of three, excluding her. They appeared to have arrived a bit earlier than she had. Aside from them, there were the second-level officers, who were wearing the customary battle suits that amplified the physical prowess of the human body as they did more rigorous training.

The first person to spot her was Denise, who simply waved at her before shying away under Amy’s stare. Amy didn’t know it at the time, but despite being beautiful and strong, her eyes and body language simply told people to fuck off. She gave off the kind of energy that pushed others away. She had no idea she gave off that energy, but she had never been one to want to make friends to begin with.

Kram, who had been doing some bench presses, noticed her then—and he was anything but subtle about it.

"Hey, you’re late, Red."

She told him off with a deep glare. "Shut it, knucklehead." She didn’t feel the need to validate herself or her actions to others.

Kram, who knew Amy was never late to training, felt a bit concerned—but he knew better than to pressure her. Now that he thought about it, he was never good at talking to her or handling her. That was Alto’s job. He punched himself in the gut for even thinking about that poor loser.

Vexar greeted Amy with a light nod. She greeted him likewise before going to do some warm-ups. Just then, the doors to the training room opened, and in stepped two figures in black uniforms. From their outfits, it was clear who they were—the survivors from the battle fleet that came from mech division #1176.

The two figures—a male and a female—looked around the room until their eyes fell on them. They proceeded to approach calmly.

"Are you guys the newest cadets here?" the pretty young woman with blonde hair said with a smile. "Care to have a spar with us?"