The Greatest Mecha-Chapter 67: A Call To The Angels

The bright blue eyes of the blonde boy gleamed as he received the notification that the creator of his very first mech, the White Blade, had now released another design. Being the weekend, he had woken up early to play the game but was surprised to find the notification.

Truthfully, he had forgotten that he had set his systems to announce to him when The Disciple uploaded another mech design. But he could not forget the feeling of piloting his first mech, even if it was substandard at best. He had long since bought a much better mech and abandoned his very first one—using it had strained his body and mind extensively.

Damian Vostinauch was curious to see what the young mech designer had been up to all this while. He had suspected that the mech designer had given up on his work, realizing that the trend was not for him. But as it turned out, he was indeed still at it.

A few seconds later, the image of The Percival lit up within the pod, and compared to his previous design, this was a real mech—it looked like a knight. It was white, with stripes of blue and grey at its joints. It carried this sense of something remarkable. It was either that, or Damian just fell in love with the design at first sight. But he was not so deceived into buying the design—lest he repeat the same mistake as he did with his first mech.

"I’m sorry, buddy, but I can’t run in blind and waste my precious credits on this. I might be rich, but I can’t be foolish," Damian said to himself after a bit of consideration. He decided to call one of his friends—his closest, in fact. The person he was calling was a young lord of one of the ruling families of their star sector. This friend of his also carried the X gene, hence would become a mech pilot. With parents that were close to the Embassy itself, they were definitely top-tier in the line of royals.

Damian tapped his fingers hesitantly on his furnished gaming chair within his oval pod. "Come on, do you always have to make me wait so long?"

The call ended without any response. Damian tried again, and this time it was picked up on the first ring. The image of a beautiful young girl appeared on his screen. She had a pale glowing face, soft glossy lips that reflected sparkles, and fluffy white hair reaching her shoulders. Her hair was rough and unkempt. Damian had always noticed that side of her—despite her high status that was considered even godly at times, she always acted like an everyday girl, and quite rough.

She smiled, her white glassy eyes reflecting his face right back at him. She was entirely angelic in every nature. She smiled with innocence and serenity as she spoke.

"Why hello there, stranger. Come to beg for money again?"

Damian frowned at her and blushed slightly at her voice and beauty.

"Fuck off, Sól. That was only one time. And why did you not pick up my first call?"

He tried not to sound entirely upset, which was easy to do with such an angelic figure before him. freewёbnoνel.com

The girl on the other end was, in a way, considered to be from the family that stood at the apex of human civilization. Their history went as far back as hell-man civilization itself. It was said that the initial venture of mankind into space after Earth was claimed by the kaiju was disastrous. Humans started to go wild and even prey on themselves. There did not seem to be an end to their madness. But this was stopped by a number of people. When humanity’s creation of mechs threatened civilization, the descendants of those first monarchs of the human race formed the Embassy. It acted as the world government and managed all affairs of mechs and human civilization. They enforced rules that could not be broken. The families that ruled from the top were considered gods—with their godlike appearance and the near impossibility of being seen outside.

They were called the Seraphyne, meaning "the holy blood." These people carried themselves as heavenly beings and looked down on all other forms of human life.

Sól was considered such. She had happened to meet Damian a few times when his family would travel to her planet on business matters. His father would encourage him to keep a close relationship with her, though it was against the law to interact with them without just cause. His father’s words meant he should continue to be in her favor rather than incur the wrath of the Seraphyne. Sól had always struck Damian differently than how her kind had been portrayed. They kept close contact with each other and talked frequently and casually, despite it being secret. And just like Damian, she was an enthusiast for mechs—perhaps even more than him. She reviewed the mech he first piloted and clearly labeled it as trash, which in turn made Damian feel like trash. He shuddered to even dare recollect that day.

He knew Sól to have a disdain for lackluster performances or things that did not meet her standards, and this part of her was where she showed her bloodline nature.

"I don’t see a need to answer your call on the first go. So what’s up? Why did you call?" Her tone was angelic, soft, controlled, and low.

Damian knew that she had already closed that Chapter, so he ignored it and carried on.

"Alright, first of all—how are things there?"

Sól wanted to make fun of him just then, since her life regularly rotated around a realm of order in which their idea of fun was rather boring in her eyes. She stopped herself from making fun of him as she recalled that no one ever asked how things went. She knew Damian knew that she would be in perfect condition always—but still, instead of his question being foolish and amusing, it was reassuring.

"You did wake me up, so you decide," she said, with a slight smile formed at the corner of her lips.

Damian scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Oh, sorry about that. It is a bit early."

Sól laughed softly and said,

"I’m just kidding. I was actually doing my morning exercise. So I take it you just didn’t call for calling’s sake?"

Damian sighed in relief. He could not even think what would happen if he got on her bad side. He knew they were close friends, but there was a difference between angering a friend on his level and her level. If she angered him, the best he could do was boil inside and throw a fit afterwards. But if he got her angry, she could easily purge his entire planet like it was nothing more than taking out the trash. He had to tread lightly and think about every word he said to her.

"You remember the first mech I piloted, right?" he asked her, and was shocked to see her fuming.

Sól’s face softened almost immediately, but her voice sounded a bit sharper as she spoke—showing that her emotion had shifted slightly towards being impulsive.

"Damian, you’re doing it again. I am no fool."

Damian hurriedly apologized for his mistake. In his time being friends with the Seraphyne, he had come to know this: while being cautious with his words, he would often come out as slow and overly considerate. Sól hated this, as she felt that she was being taken for a fool. She hated beating around the bush, though she would agree to play along for a while. If he persisted, she would end the conversation and not talk to him for days—at times, weeks.

Damian wasted no time in explaining why he had contacted her. When he was done, he concluded with a few simple words—but her reply had him by the throat.

"So you want me to test the second mech of this trash mech designer whose first work was also trash?"

Damian gulped in fear. He took a moment to think and then realized how stupid he was. Who in their right senses would tell a Seraphyne to test run a mech of some unknown person?

The silence persisted for longer. Sól’s eyes were shut for a long time, and Damian was sweating despite the air conditioning unit in his pod. When Sól finally opened her eyes, he tensed even further.

"How bold of you. Do you think I am your cheap mech tester you can just hire off your peasant streets? Damian, you mock me."

Sól could not believe her time had been wasted for such a thing. She had expected Damian to be telling her another one of his adventurous stories, but apparently, he was just being "silly."

Before Damian could apologize, she ended the transmission, leaving him in a state of fear.

"Shit... Did I just fuck up the planet?"

Damian, in his innocent nature, had simply wanted her to experience things of the outside world since she was always intrigued by such—but at times, he always seemed to pass the boundaries. He gulped down and prayed she would calm down soon... or at least not nuke his planet.

A/N: Will upload the next later. Sorry for the wait