Evolve (10)
"I'm being completely serious. Don't you agree, Hyun-woo?"
"Umm..."
"It's no use pretending you don't! I saw everything. When we were surrounded by those pureblood supremacists—remember the pod that went 'click'! and opened? When the mini-missiles launched and cleared everything in an instant! That expression on your face, Hyun-woo!"
Nadia pointed her straightened finger at me. She had the air of a detective revealing the culprit and, as a bonus, declaring "There's always just one truth!"
'What kind of face did I make back then?'
There was no need to ponder deeply. I had a pretty good idea of what expression Nadia saw. I must have had a distinctly relieved look after witnessing that attack, which got us out of a situation where death seemed inescapable.
To be honest, I also recognized the importance of firepower. The reason I hesitated was because Nadia's attitude was so unfamiliar.
It wasn't as if I thought it was weird for the Nadia I knew to act this way—no, I guess part of me did feel that way.
Nadia had always been timid and avoided conflict whenever possible. She'd bare her teeth if it was about me, but otherwise, she'd avoid trouble as much as she could.
I still remember how, back in the residential area, she once ended up buying a wrong item from a shop—though it was the clerk's mistake—yet just stood there fumbling, unable to ask for a replacement.
If I hadn't noticed and intervened, Nadia would probably have spent that night sulking under her blanket. So, to think that she'd become someone who shouts about the need for firepower—it was quite a shock.
'This world... has changed Nadia...!'
It had turned her into someone different. The timid, shy Nadia was no more; now there was only Nadia firmly believing that I, too, yearned for greater firepower.
I had always hoped she would remain my own sweet little Nadia—yet here she was, changed. I felt like crying.
"Hyun-woo, you thought, 'Yeah! That's it!' or something, didn't you? Right?"
Seeing Nadia waiting for my answer with such eager anticipation, I let out a small sigh. I didn't deny it.
"Firepower... firepower is good. But do we even have the necessary materials among our supplies right now?"
To the best of my knowledge, we did not. We had plenty of supplies loaded on the Albatross, but there were no missiles. There was a reason why we mainly used pulse rifles—there weren't many other options.
"And the power loader's a problem too. I think it requires specific connection parts, but we're missing those."
"You're right, Hyun-woo. If we had them, we'd have used them long ago. But it's okay! Because we can just make both!"
Nadia wiggled her finger as if she'd been expecting my response. She insisted that while we had no missiles, we did have enough resources to manufacture them.
To build them—certainly a good choice. But did any of us actually have the technical knowledge required to make missiles?
A maintenance drone flashed across my mind—but I quickly shook my head. No matter how skilled Kyle was, it was hard to believe he could build something like a missile.
"... Who's going to make them?"
"I can make the parts, and as for the missiles... these folks will!"
Nadia sent a silent signal to Carry.
'... Folks?'
So more than one? My question was immediately answered as Carry lifted his support arm and dragged something from behind a pile of supply crates.
With a rattling wheel sound, out came Kyle and Roxy. No wonder Carry had arrived at my room later than usual—he must have stopped to collect those two from the cargo bay.
Kyle was completely knocked out, probably unconscious from exhaustion after his work. Roxy, on the other hand, seemed perfectly composed and greeted me as if he'd been waiting for this moment all along.
"Good morning, friend."
"What the—? What were you doing in there? And why are you dressed like that?"
"They said they needed my help, so here I am."
Roxy began stretching as if preparing for serious work. Since the Maker had been obliterated by the nuclear explosion and the Albatross had hidden itself in this ice canyon, he hadn't left his room.
I had wondered if he might have been severely injured, but seeing him now, he looked perfectly fine. The difference was stark compared to Kyle.
"Help? Don't tell me, you know how to make missiles?"
I recalled that Roxy had helped out before with the shuttle core—thanks to him, we'd managed to correctly install the shuttle upgrade module.
Between the two of them—problem children though they were—it was clear that if they worked together, they could be formidable. They were both technically gifted.
"Hey, I'm good, but not that good."
"Then why are you here?"
"I've had enough rest, and I came to see my new love. I couldn't just sit by after hearing that my prized modification was wrecked."
Roxy pointed at the mini-armed shuttle. He started talking about needing to bond with it, about seeing if their compatibility matched—if someone overheard, they might think he was on a blind date.
They say there's a fine line between genius and madness—often those who are truly obsessed act like this. Right now, Roxy was the perfect example.
He continued, "I wasn't joking about helping. I'll be working with you today, so if you need a hand, just call. I may look like this, but I really am good with my hands."
With those words, Roxy waved towards the shuttle and left. All that remained was the still-unconscious Kyle.
"Hyun-woo, let's wake him up. He's our only hope."
"He isn't dead, is he?"
"Everyone dies sometime."
"No, that can't be right. You said he was our only hope..."
I pressed my palm to my forehead. I didn't know where to start. My head throbbed. He looked so unwell, I was worried he might drop dead from being woken up.
Suddenly, Roxy, now perched atop the shuttle, called out, "Don't worry, friend! Wake him up! He always looks like that from chronic fatigue!"
Given the brothers' claim, it was convincing. Now that I thought about it, I'd never seen Kyle look any better. So I decided to just wake him up. Shaking his shoulder, he groaned like a zombie.
"Uuugh..."
"Kyle, wake up."
"... Ugh, what is it...?"
A bit more shaking and finally Kyle opened his eyes. He squinted into the bright overhead lights, then eventually propped himself up and instinctively scanned his surroundings.
He was slow to grasp the situation, so Nadia explained for him.
"It's time to work. So get up."
"...."
"Hurry up! Weren't we making missiles together?"
Nadia began circling Kyle like she was performing a rain ritual, chanting, "Firepower! Firepower!"
It looked almost like an exorcism.
"Another day begins..."
Kyle let out a deep sigh and grabbed his head. He twisted back and forth as if blaming the artificial lighting—like a corpse rising from the dead.
'... Is he really possessed?'
In the past, I'd have scoffed, but I'd seen too many impossible things by now. Just remembering what happened in the central sector, the Nexus, of the Heaven mining base, still gave me chills.
If things like disembodied consciousnesses existed, an evil spirit wasn't much of a stretch. If Kyle really was possessed, I was ready to bash his head in at any time.
"Kyle, do you want to sleep a little more?"
"No... I slept enough, actually."
"How much?"
"A bit less than four hours. Anyway, I'll quickly wash up, so please set things up until I'm back."
Having checked the time, Kyle seemed to know that hesitating would only add to the work time. Staggering, he made straight for the restroom, never quite losing his balance.
Nadia and I watched Kyle leave, then turned to look at each other. Nadia giggled. She said now half the puzzle was solved and finished organizing the tools, spreading them out for easy access.
From nearby, the sizzle of a cutting laser told us someone—probably Roxy—was already making heavy modifications. He was stripping off the extra armor plate he'd just attached, and we just watched.
If anyone else had tried that, I would've stopped them immediately, asking what they were doing. But Roxy was different. He lived and died by the shuttle, so us interfering would just have been meddling.
"Here, Hyun-woo. Take a look. This is the direction I want to go."
Nadia projected a concept design she'd drawn up onto the holographic screen, her excitement obvious.
"Until now there's never been anything like this! Is this a power loader or a missile? Behold, the Armored Type!"
"... Isn't that just a giant cluster bomb? It looks like it'd blow up from the slightest tap."
There was no hiding my reluctance. I wasn't joking—there were three extra connection parts, and all the limbs and missile pods were attached. I didn't even know how it was supposed to move.
"I made the armor thick, so it's fine! And this is my dream."
Nadia insisted. She was looking more unfamiliar than ever. When had she fallen so completely for firepower?
If I had to guess, it probably started piling up gradually after this crisis began, and she snapped when the nuclear explosion happened.
'No, wait.'
That doesn't make sense. She was unconscious thanks to Cystus when the explosion went off.
At that moment, Carry tapped me and started playing a video. Crackling with noise, the footage showed a gigantic mushroom cloud. There was no sound, but the majesty and weight were unmistakable.
「ദ്ദി(•̀ ᗜ〈)」
Carry gave a thumbs-up. The true culprit for turning Nadia into a firepower fanatic had been close by all along. I'd asked him to look out for her, and this was the result.
Upon seeing the video Carry played, Nadia clasped her hands and squealed, wagging her tail furiously, eyes completely enraptured. Not quite the look she gave me, but nearly so.
She was so engrossed, I couldn't even bring myself to blame Carry. I decided to think of it as her being happy—never mind that it made her look like a future bomb fanatic.
"So how does it move?"
"It uses military thrusters! That's why I put pods on the bottom, too. My ultimate goal is to modify it for EVA use."
Nadia knocked on the stripped-down power loader cockpit. EVA—a term for extravehicular activity in space.
We'd need it, in principle, if we wanted to escape Titan. Outside gravity, there would be no atmosphere.
Even if we made it up, battle might not end instantly. We had to be prepared for any situation—waiting till the last minute would be too late.
'Maybe it's not bad after all?'
I caught myself thinking that. I wasn't a specialist, so we'd have to test it to know if it was realistic. But I couldn't deny I was tempted.
Nadia, sensing I was halfway sold, let out a little laugh. Her tail perked up, and her ears twitched in delight.
As Nadia and I discussed the direction for power loader modifications—
"... Even if the missiles are small and the pods can be purged at any time, this is too much. It needs to be reduced."
A voice cooled off our heated debate. Kyle had quietly approached. Whether he'd just washed or fallen in a river was hard to tell, but he was definitely awake now. There was a new sharpness in his eyes.
"The leg movement can be compensated for with thrusters to some extent, but this design won't work, not even for EVA purposes."
"But... I can't give up!"
"You can't choose death either. Give it up. This just won't do. Do I need to spell out all the reasons why?"
"... Fine..."
Kyle's blunt professionalism crushed Nadia's spirit. Her ears and tail drooped, and even I felt sorry for her.
That didn't mean I objected—like how Santa doesn't exist, there were things stubbornness alone couldn't fix.
"About how much should we cut back, then?"
"Forty percent."
"Forty percent, huh..."
"We need to strip off everything except forty percent. To be honest, even that's generous—since if you pile up even small missiles, the weight becomes a real issue."
Kyle began tapping at the holographic screen, removing missile pods attached all over. Nadia pleaded with her eyes for him to stop, but he paid no heed and finished the job.
"Armored concepts like this have been around a long time, and there are still plenty interested in them. There are plenty of fans who see the appeal. But almost none have been mass-produced or deployed in actual combat. Do you know why?"
"Why not?"
"Because they have limits. No matter how thick you make the armor, there's a limit to how much it can absorb, and no matter how many missile pods, there's always a finite amount."
According to Kyle, an armored type sacrificed mobility for concentrated firepower, and with that kind of build, it's impossible to avoid attacks so you'd have to tank them with armor—which was the biggest flaw.
"It's always easier to attack than to defend. There's just no comparison in terms of efficiency. That's why battlecruisers are covered in energy fields—if the engines or munitions storage sector get hit, there's an instant detonation and down she goes."
Struggling desperately just to block attacks versus pressing a button to fire a penetrating shot and blow up your opponent.
When Kyle showed a crude drawing as an example, Nadia just pursed her lips, unable to laugh. She clearly had a lot to say, but knew she'd be argued down.
I decided to step in.
"Then does that mean focused firepower types are just hopeless?"
"The problem isn't the concept, it's equipping only missile pods. You'd be better off fitting cannon-type weapons. Most military power loaders use those, anyway."
"A cannon...? Which one do you recommend?"
"Hm. Hand cannons are good, but I'd go with a shoulder cannon."
Kyle tapped his bracelet, bringing up a set of designs on the screen—brutal, simple cannons mounted on the power loader's shoulders.
"Ugly..."
Nadia muttered, and a vein twitched on Kyle's forehead. At first, I thought I'd imagined it, but no—he was definitely annoyed. The fact that he suddenly started talking more and faster was proof.
"It's simplified for the battlefield, not ugly! It's cool in its own way! Missile pods are far uglier, all blocky and such."
"But it *is* ugly... and the blocky design is because of how precise everything fits. You don't love that click of precision? The circus of dozens of missiles launched at a target with one switch—that's the real dream!"
"No way! The true romantic ideal is the big gun! The cockpit-shaking vibration when you fire, the whiff of gunpowder... That's the real deal, not these sticks—!"
Kyle suddenly burst forth with passion. I unconsciously took a step back in surprise. I'd thought he'd been merely practical; turns out he's just as crazy.
Now two fools, poisoned by dreams of firepower, glared at each other.