《The Undying Gear》 Chapter 1: An untimely beginning It was a cold, dark night after yet another exhausting day of school. My legs felt like lead as I trudged along the empty road near the shopping district, a few miles from home. Every step was unsteady, every breath shallow. I was completely drained. "Ha! You actually watch Mecha Slayers? What a loser!" The bullies sneered. "Theyre not stupid! Theyre super cool!" I snapped back, but my voice wavered. That was all it took. They cornered me in the bathroom, shoving me against the cold tiles before forcing my head into the toilet. My face barely avoided touching the rim, but that didnt matterthe icy water rushed into my mouth, flooding my throat. I choked, gagging as my lungs screamed for air. Just when I thought Id suffocate, they yanked me uponly to plunge me down again. Over and over. By the time they were done, I was soaked, beaten, and barely conscious. The teachers found me collapsed on the floor, but that was it. Another incident swept under the rug. I had reported the bullying countless times. My parents complained about how I always came home in soaked, filthy clothes. But no one listened. Not the teachers, not the principalno one. Kazuko came from a rich, well-connected family. His father had ties to the government, so no matter what I did, no matter how much I fought back, he always got away with it. His wealth and influence shielded him from any consequences. It was frustrating. Noinfuriating. I was powerless. Another day, another round of torment. I wisheddesperatelythat things would just change. But they never did. Sometimes, I imagined myself as the heroes in Mecha Slayers. No matter what obstacles they faced, no matter how hopeless the situation seemed, they always pulled through. They always saved the day. I wanted to be like that. I wanted to be someone who stood up for the weak, someone who made a difference. Someone who didnt just suffer in silence. Tears burned my eyes as the sky wept with me. Rain poured down in heavy sheets, drenching my clothes, my bageverything. What could I do? How could I change? I wasnt rich. I wasnt smart. I wasnt strong. I wasnt anything. As those thoughts spiraled in my mind, I stepped onto the crosswalk. The pedestrian light flashed red, signaling me forward. The wind howled, the thunder roared, and the rain pelted down like daggers from the heavens. I barely noticed. Until I saw them. Two red eyes, glowing menacingly in the darkness. The low growl of an engine rumbled through the storm. Before I could react, the truck was already upon me. Time slowed. The world around me seemed frozen, yet the metal beast surged forward, relentless and merciless.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Why? Why did it have to be me? No one ever believed me. No one ever cared. My parents only ever compared me to others, disappointed in my grades, my failures. I wasnt smart, athletic, or talented. I was nothing. And now, I was about to die as nothing. No. I cant die like this! I dont want to die a loser! I want to be somethingsomeonejust not this! The truck hit me with a deafening crash. My body was sent flying, the sky spinning above me in a blur. All I could see was red. The world faded. And I screamed into the abyss "WHY?!" Darkness. An endless void stretched before me, swallowing everything into its abyss. My screams echoed, yet no one answered. Was this it? Was this what came after death? A lonely, eternal nothingness? But thensomething changed. A soft, radiant glow pierced through the darkness. At first, it was just a flicker, a single speck of light in the vast emptiness. Then, like ripples in water, it expanded. Slowly, gently, it reached for me. A hand. Translucent, ethereal, glowing with an otherworldly hue. It beckoned me forward, as if offering salvation. Without thinking, I reached out and touched it. The moment my fingers met the light, warmth enveloped me. A soothing presence filled the abyss, and then "Greetings, young traveler. You have died a gruesome death." The voice was neither human nor divine, but something in between. A woman of light stood before me, her form shifting like mist caught in the morning sun. "Through my judgment of your life, I believe you are qualified for reincarnation." Her words stunned me. Seriously? I can live again? My heart leapt, hope flickering in the depths of my despair. But almost immediately, that flicker was snuffed out. I hesitated. Wait does that mean Ill be sent back to that world? "No. You will be reincarnated into another worldone that needs you." I clenched my fists. Another world? What did that even mean? I barely survived my last lifewhy would I want to live again? Im not special, I muttered bitterly. Isnt there a heaven or something? I dont want to be reborn only to suffer again. Im tired too tired. The woman did not waver. "It is not your time to die." Her voice was gentle but firm. "I am neither an angel nor a devil, but the gate that balances the living and the dead. Your souls time has only just begun, young one. Dont lose faithlive a life worth dying for." The glow around her intensified, and I felt the space around me shifting. Waitno, please! Panic surged through me. I reached for her, desperate. I cant go back! Its too painful! I dont want thisI cant do this again! My cries were met with silence. And then Light exploded around me, swallowing everything. The void shattered. And so did I. Chapter 1.1: Bonus content Mecha Slayers: The Legend of the Purple Mecha Slayer For over a century, humanity has waged war against the Abyss Dwellersnightmarish mechanical horrors that emerge from the void, consuming entire cities in their relentless advance. The only line of defense? The Mecha Slayerswarriors who summon humanoid war machines, each an extension of their very soul. Among them, one name stands above the rest: The Purple Mecha Slayer. A legend forged in the fires of countless battles, the Purple Mecha Slayer is feared by enemies and revered by allies. Unlike his comrades, who fight with shining ideals, he is a warrior of pragmatism and brutality. He has been defeated more times than any other Slayer, but he never stays down. No matter how broken, bloodied, or betrayedhe always rises again. The world calls him a hero, but his methods are anything but noble. He fights dirty, exploits weaknesses, and does whatever it takes to win. He doesnt believe in destiny or hopeonly the will to stand back up when everything is against him.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The Power of the Purple Mecha Slayer His mecha, Violet Revenant, is an armored behemoth, battered and scarred from a hundred battles yet still standing tall. Its power? Undying Vengeance. A broken machine piloted by a broken manyet together, they rise where others fall. Chapter 2: The “friendly” neighborhood dumpster diver Its been six years since the day I saw those mechas. Six years since I realized how far away my dream truly was. Ive grown since thenwell, as much as a six-year-old can. My body is still small, my limbs still weak, but my mind? My mind is sharper than ever. If I want even the slightest chance of reaching those skies, I need to get stronger. Right now, that means learning magic from my mother. I dont know anything about what it takes to become a mecha rider. We cant afford books, tutors, or even basic lessons beyond what my parents know. All I can do is train little by little, improving myself however I can. And so, one day, I asked her. Mom, can I ask you something? Yes, dear, what is it? she replied with a warm smile. I want to learn how to use magic like you do. Her eyes gleamed with joy, and before I knew it, she had pulled me into a tight embrace. Of course, honey! Ill teach you everything I know! she said, her voice brimming with excitement. I wasnt expecting such enthusiasm, but I wasnt going to complain. This was my first step forward. We stepped outside, the fresh morning air crisp against my skin. My mother led me to an open patch of land behind our small house, where the dirt was soft, and the sun bathed the field in golden light. She knelt beside me, her hand glowing faintly as she spoke. Magic is like waterit flows, she said, stretching her fingers in the air. It moves in and out of our bodies naturally. But to shape it, to control it, we need mana. Without mana, magic wouldnt exist. I nodded, soaking in her words. "Mana behaves like water it flows through us. But where exactly does it come from? And how does it exist in the first place?" A thought nagged at me. Something about her explanation felt incomplete. Mom, where does mana actually come from? I asked. She smiled gently. Mana comes from all around us, and it exists within everybody. Everyone has mana, in one way or another. That didnt really answer my question. She was explaining that it exists, but not why. But before I could ask anything else, she lifted her hands. Here, Ill show you a simple water spell. She chanted strange, flowing words, her voice carrying an otherworldly rhythm. Glowing magical circles appeared on her palms and beneath her feet, symbols pulsing with power. A sphere of water formed between her hands, hovering for a moment before it shot forward, splashing against a nearby tree. I stared, wide-eyed. That was awesome. Wow, thats so cool! I said, my voice filled with awe. She giggled, pulling me into another hug. Aw, thank you, my boy. Determined, I clenched my tiny fists. If she could do it, then I could do it too. I took a deep breath and tried to mimic what she did. I chanted the words she had spoken, but the syllables tangled on my tongue. The harder I tried, the worse it gotlike forcing my way through a locked door. It felt like I was trying to shit out a brick with how much effort I was exerting. I I cant do it, I finally admitted, my shoulders slumping. Its too hard. My mother gently patted my head. Dont give up, honey. Youve only just started. Magic takes time. I guess so, I muttered. After our short morning lesson, the rest of the day went by as usual. I helped my father log firewood, my small hands gripping an axe too big for me. I struggled, but I refused to stop. I helped plow the fields, the dirt rough against my fingers as we prepared the soil for planting. This was my life. We lived in a small village just outside the capital city of Zenith Primea sprawling metropolis known for its talented mecha riders and cutting-edge magical technology. The heart of Eldorath, a country famed for its military strength, technological innovation, and, most of all, its mechas. But despite the grandeur of the capital, the divide between the rich and the poor was massive. Nobles, scholars, and mecha pilots lived in towering skyscrapers, basking in wealth and luxury. Meanwhile, the outskirtsour villagewere little more than a place to extract labor and resources. We werent warriors. We were farmers. And yet, even in this forgotten corner of the world, I refused to let go of my dream. Thats why, every month, when the village received shipments of scrap from the capital, I made my way to the scrapyard. To everyone else, it was a pile of useless junk. To me, it was a treasure trove. I foraged through the scraps of metal and garbage. The smell was pungent and unbearable. "Man, this stinks. Literally. This smell is way too bad," I thought to myself, scrunching my nose in disgust. But I wasnt here for comfort. I was here for treasure. I walked, jumped, and scouted for anything that seemed remotely valuable. Most of it was uselessa rusted gear here, a shattered mana crystal there. But then, as I kicked aside a pile of rotting fabric, something caught my eye. A book. It was old, its cover worn and covered in grime. The pages were thick and yellowed with age, and as I dusted it off, my heart skipped a beat. The cover had an image of a mecha. I flipped it open. Inside were detailed diagrams of mecha componentstheir inner workings, circuits, and power cores. But there was a problem. "Jackpot! I found a mecha manual or something!" I said out loud. Then, my excitement faded as I scanned the text. "...But I cant read it." The words were written in strange symbols, characters unlike anything Id seen before. They almost looked like Russian lettersjust slightly off, slightly different. Even though I couldnt understand it, I knew this book had value. If I could just figure out a way to read it, I might learn something useful. I spent the next hour searching for anything else worthwhile. I found a few bracelets, broken microchips, and dismantled power supplies, but nothing nearly as valuable as the book. I wasnt a genius engineer or anything, so these scraps were just thatscraps. "Guess this is all Im getting today," I muttered, tucking the book under my arm and heading home.
As soon as I stepped through the door, my mother gasped. "Elfred! What on earth happened to you? You smell like a garbage pit!" I barely had time to react before she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me toward the washbasin. "But Mom, I" "No dinner until you wash up!" she scolded. I sighed in defeat. After scrubbing off the filth, I sat at the dinner table with my parents. The warm stew smelled amazing after a long day of scavenging. Halfway through the meal, I decided to ask. "Mom, Dad, do either of you know what this says?" I asked, holding up the book. They both glanced at it, their expressions shifting from curiosity to discomfort. My father shook his head. "No, son. Weve never learned how to read." I felt my stomach drop. I knew we were poor. I knew life wasnt easy. But I hadnt realized it was this bad. "Oh... okay," I replied softly. They returned to eating in silence. I didnt press further.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The next morning, I woke up early to practice magic again. My mothers lesson still lingered in my mind. I stood in the same field as before, focusing. I tried chanting the spell multiple times, mimicking her exact movements, but nothing happened. Why isnt it working? I thought, frustrated. Then I remembered what she saidMana flows within everything. If that were true, then just existing should be enough to channel mana. So why were chants necessary? Wouldnt the act of speaking just waste more energy? A thought struck me. What if instead of chanting, I simply imagined the spell? What if I visualized the magical seal in my mind and focused my energy into it directly? I closed my eyes. I pictured the glowing circles that had formed on my mothers hands. I imagined the way the mana gathered, how it swirled and took shape. Then, I reached deep within myself, feeling for that same current of energy. I tried. Nothing. I tried again. Still nothing. But something felt different. The failure wasnt as harsh. I didnt feel drained or exhausted like before. The headache that usually followed a failed spell was weaker this time. This is possible. I just needed to keep trying. Same as yesterday, after finishing all the chores I was given for the day, I went off to dumpster dive like before. While other kids played with each other, running around and laughing without a care in the world, I found more enjoyment in something elselearning about mechas and searching for new finds in the junkyard. At some point, it became a hobby. I never thought Id get into something like this, but I guess life has a way of leading you down weird paths. "It is what it is, huh?" With my usual scrap sack slung over my shoulder, I made my way to the scrapyard, eyes scanning for anything new or interesting. After some digging, I came across the same bracelets I had found yesterday. At first, I thought they were just useless trinkets, but after checking through one of the old books I salvaged, I realized something They were in the book. One of the images had a bracelet identical to these. I had no clue what they were used for, but if they were worth being documented, they must be important. Without a second thought, I grabbed a few and stuffed them into my sack. I continued diving through the piles of discarded tech, shifting through rusted parts and shattered components. Thats when I found something more familiartools. A micro-screwdriver, a regular screwdriver, and some strange magical tools Id never seen before. Some of them had engraved circuits glowing faintly with residual mana, while others looked like they had been custom-made for precise mechanical work. "These could come in handy." But just as I was about to move on, something really caught my eye. Lying partially buried under broken machinery was a mechanical glove. It had the appearance of iron, yet the surface looked smooth as silk. It wasnt rusted, nor did it seem damaged like everything else in the scrapyard. I had to have it. I climbed up the pile of junk, carefully stepping over loose metal and unstable stacks of scrap. My fingers stretched toward the glove, about to claim my prize Until another hand grabbed it at the same time. We both froze. Then, naturally, I did what any mature and civilized individual would do. "This is mine! Get your own! I ain''t sharing anything! These scrapyards arent big enough for two of usits all mine, mine, mine, mine!" I yelled, tugging at the glove. "NO! Theyre mine! Get your grubby hands off of them!" the stranger shouted back. The voice that screamed at me was horrible. Sharp. Shrill. High-pitched enough to make my ears want to rip themselves off. It was like nails screeching against a whiteboard. We kept pulling and tugging, neither of us willing to let go. It was a battle of pure willpower, fought atop the grand mountain of garbage. Then, with one final yank, I managed to wrench the glove toward me But I also ended up pulling the annoying brat on the other side along with it. With zero balance and zero grace, we both tumbled down the junk heap, crashing into discarded metal and broken scraps until we finally hit the ground with a loud thud. And man, did it hurt. "Ugh! If you had just let go, we wouldnt have had to fall, you know?!" I groaned, sitting up and shaking the dust off me. Then, I looked down And saw a girl. She had short red hair, a simple brown dress, and her whole outfit was covered in the grime of the scrapyard. "Wait. A girl? In the scrapyard?" That was unexpected. The girl sniffled, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye before glaring at me. "That hurt, you jerk! Is that how you treat a girl?!" she yelled, crossing her arms angrily. "My bad. I thought you were a boy. Thats my mistake," I admitted, shrugging. I didnt even try to deny it. She just looked like one. As she got up from the fall, she looked like she was about to explode at meher cheeks puffed up and red, her eyes brimming with anger. "You don''t just go around pulling people down hills, you know! That''s not nice!" she huffed, brushing the grime off her dress. "And calling me a boy? Rude! I''m obviously a girl. Do you even have eyes?" I shrugged, crossing my arms. "Well, how was I supposed to know? You dress like every other scrappy kid around here. And besides, you''re the one who wouldn''t let go of the glove. If anything, you pulled me down." She scoffed and dusted off her dress with exaggerated force. "Cant believe I ran into an idiot scavenger." Then, straightening up, she jabbed a thumb at herself with a confident smirk. "My names Lyra, by the way. I have every right to be here. This scrapyard is like my second home." I raised a brow. "So, you live here or something?" She rolled her eyes. "No, genius. I come here to find parts and materials for projects. I build stuff. Fix things. Unlike you, whos probably just here picking up junk without knowing what any of it does." I scoffed. "Pff, I actually know what Im looking for." "Oh, really? Then tell me, do you know what those bracelets in your bag are for?" She leaned in with a smug grin, hands on her hips. I hesitated. "Ha! Of course, I do. Theyre thingys that help you transform into a suit for mechas." Shit. I have no idea what any of this crap does. Im just assuming theyre some magical-girl-type transformation nonsense or something. I cant be caught losing to another kid who looks about the same age as me! Lyra sighed. "Well, I guess you have an idea, but you''re still wrong." This kid is a real smartass, ugh. "Theres a reason Im here, you know. I want to become a mechanic for the Mecha Brigade one day, so I come here to collect rare parts and study them," she said. I narrowed my eyes at her. "Aren''t only royalty or high-ranking nobles capable of getting into the Mecha Brigade? How are you going to do it?" She crossed her arms and looked off to the side. "Ill figure it out somehow." I smirked. "Well, I want to join the Mecha Brigade as a pilot. I want to learn as much as I can about mechas so I can make it someday!" Lyra burst into laughter. "Haha! There''s no way youre gonna make it. Nobles are super strong and dignified, and youre the opposite of that!" she said, laughing mockingly. "Damn it! Just you watch! Ill be the best damn pilot out there!" I shot back. "Yeah, yeah, sure you will," she said sarcastically. This brat is making me mad, ugh. Then she grabbed the mechanical glove from the ground and held it up to the light. "But first, Im taking this." "Hey, no way! I found it first!" I lunged forward, grabbing onto the glove as she yanked it back. We struggled for a moment before she slipped away and ran off with the glove, her arm raised in a victorious pose. "Hehe, it''s mine, and you can''t have it!" She winked, stuck her tongue out at me, then spun around and dashed off, disappearing into the maze of scrap and metal. I watched as she vanished. "I hope I dont have to meet her again. Shes too annoying for me to deal with." With the sun beginning to set, I decided to head back early. But before going home, I found a secluded spot to continue training my magic. I tried repeating the same process as in the morning, focusing my thoughts and envisioning the magical circles from before. For about an hour, I meditated, trying to conjure magic, but nothing happened. Then I changed my approach. Instead of forcing it, I tried to gather mana in a more natural way. I took deep, controlled breaths, imagining magic as something that existed like air particles or water moleculeselements with energy that could be shaped into symbols. To my surprise, a tiny blob of water, about the size of my fingertip, formed in the air. "Yes! I did it! I actually cast magic!" I shouted in excitement. Encouraged, I tried again, this time aiming for something bigger. The second water sphere was nearly as big as my palm, but it wobbled, barely holding its shape. "Well, Ive got a long way to go, but this is still great progress," I thought proudly. After training, I headed home for the night. During dinner, as we ate the wild boar my father had hunted, my parents brought up something unexpected. "Alfred, weve been talking, and we think it might be a good idea for you to go hunting with your father," my mother said. I frowned. "Aw, but I dont want to hunt." To be honest, I was way more interested in mechas than hunting. "Why would I need to learn that, anyway? A mecha pilot probably wont use that kind of stuff in combat." "Thats not true," my father said. "Mechas use swords and magic staffs to operate. Hunting is also a good survival skill." The words "swords and magic staffs" echoed in my head. Mechas are supposed to be super weapons with guns, energy shields, proton swords, blazing turbine boosters, tracking missiles, transformation mechanics, and supernova blasts. Why the hell are they being used in such a boring way? Thats blasphemy to all mecha fans out there! "Hmm, I guess they kinda do, in a way," I muttered. "So, would you like to go hunting with me, son?" my father asked. I hesitated but nodded. "Okay, Ill go." "Great! Then well head out tomorrow morning. Itll be your first time hunting, so get ready. Well be going with some of my friends and their kids." I didnt miss the way my mother smiled at that. They werent just trying to teach me to huntthey wanted me to interact with kids my age. I had never really made any friends, and I guess that worried them a little. Still, I wasnt sure if running around in the woods with a bunch of other kids was going to change that. Chapter 3: Hunting and gathering Dammit, why did I agree to go hunting with my father? I''m already dying and sweating, and we''ve just started. Shit. There are two other men who are friends with my father. They always go hunting thrice every week to get food and make some extra money by selling to merchants in the capital. In order to hunt, we have to wake up early in the morning. Seriously, the sun hasn''t even woken up yet, and Im here walking in the middle of the woods. For fucks sake, ugh! "Oi, Elmer, are you ready for the hunt today?" the tall man said. "I''m more than ready. I''m feeling real lucky today, haha," my father replied. "Oh, you brought your son today this time, huh?" said the muscular man. "Yep," my father said with a hint of pride. "Come on now, introduce yourself," he told me. "Um, my name is Elfred, and I can''t wait to start hunting today with everyone," I said. To be honest with you, I really don''t want to go hunting, but it would be awkward to say that "My goodness, he looks just like Gladace when you were both younger, haha," the taller man said. "My name is Ralvus, I''m real mean with the Blacktooth Repeaterbest shooter here!" he said with his chest puffed up. "This is my boy, Garric. Hes two years older than you." "The names Durnak, lad. When it comes to wrestling monsters, I can take em down with my bare hands! They don''t call me Iron Fist Durnak for nothing, you know. I got the pelt to prove it!" he said while showing off the monster''s cloak strapped around himself. Holy shit, this guy is a badass, I thought to myself. "MY NAME IS VOLGRIM! NICE TO MEET YOU!" the muscular mans son bellowed. Hes really loud. Sheesh. "Nice to meet you too," I replied, extending my hand for a handshake. To my surprise, he gripped my hand with ridiculous strength. It felt like my bones were about to be crushed. How strong is this kid? Hes about the same age as mewhat the hell? "Let''s get hunting now!" my father said. "We gotta get going soon before the Grekhars start waking up. Since it''s summer, they''re in season, and they taste real good right now." As we walked deeper into the forest, Volgrim matched my pace, his energy never seeming to drop. "Hey, Elfred, you been goin to the scrapyard a lot lately, huh?" I nearly tripped over a rock. "Huh? What are you talking about?" "Cmon, dont play dumb! My uncle works on the transport wagons to the capitalhe says hes seen you sneakin around there a lot." Shit. I didnt think people noticed. "Uh, I just like looking for cool stuff, thats all," I said, trying to play it off. "Thats so weird, man! What could you possibly find in a junk heap? Aint like there''s treasure in there. You some kinda scavenger?" Volgrim teased with a grin. "Its not just junk. Some of its useful," I defended myself. Volgrim gave me a skeptical look but shrugged. "Whatever you say, scavenger boy. Now hurry up, we got monsters to catch!" We scoured through the dense woods, searching for Grekhars. These creatures, similar to oversized burrowing chickens, hid underground to avoid predators while protecting their eggs. Tracking them down was proving to be a challenge, and after an hour of searching, we had yet to find any burrows. I couldnt shake the feeling of unease. Here I was, gripping a mini-shotgun that felt almost comically oversized for a kid my age. The fact that they even handed me a weapon like this was weird, but I wasnt about to complainI had something cool. After more searching, we finally stumbled upon a flock of Baravelslarge, feathered beasts with razor-sharp talons and beady red eyes that scanned their surroundings for danger. "Sheesh, be careful," Ralvus whispered. "Theyre really sensitive to sound. One loud noise, and theyll scatter. Get down and crawl forward through the bushes." We all lowered ourselves and crept through the underbrush. My heartbeat drummed in my ears as we edged closer to the unsuspecting Baravels. Then, with swift precision, Ralvus drew his shotgun and fired. The nearest Baravels head exploded in a spray of crimson. My father followed up instantly, his weapon booming as he shot another in the torso. The creature flailed, trying to escape, but he quickly finished it off with a rapid succession of shots. The intensity of the moment spurred me into action. I raised my shotgun, lined up a shot, and squeezed the trigger. The blast connected, hitting a Baravel right in the head. It dropped instantly. "Not bad, kiddo!" Ralvus grinned. "Your aims better than I expected." "I guess I got lucky," I said, trying to play it off, though a small surge of pride filled my chest. Vilgrim, carrying the hefty corpse of a Baravel over his shoulder, stared at me in awe. "Whoa, that was awesome!" "Im more impressed that you can lift that thing," I admitted. The creature was massiveeasily twice the size of an average adult. "Are you secretly a dwarf or something?" I asked. Vilgrim chuckled. "Nah, I just train a lot." "Its only natural for my son to be this strong!" Durnak boomed with laughter, slapping Vilgrim on the back. Meanwhile, the older kid with uswho still hadnt bothered introducing himselfsilently hauled more carcasses onto a makeshift sled. He didnt seem interested in talking, and honestly, I didnt mind. After a few more hours of hunting, we still hadnt found any Dernaks, the rare creatures we were originally after. "Well, no luck this time," my father said, stretching. "Dernaks are a delicacy for a reason. But well find one eventually!" The morning hunt wrapped up in what felt like a mild success. Id managed to land a shot, which was more than I expected, but my mind was already drifting to something elsepracticing magic again. "Next time, Im gonna catch something even bigger!" Vilgrim declared, waving as he and his father parted ways. The quiet older boy followed after his father without a word. Once I was back in the village, I made my way to a secluded spot where I could practice undisturbed. There was something peaceful about being alone, surrounded by quiet, with nothing but my thoughts and the rustling trees. I took a deep breath, clearing my mind, and focused on conjuring the water sphere again. The first few attempts were shakyjust like before, the water wobbled uncontrollably before splashing apart. "This is harder than I thought," I muttered. But as I continued, I started to notice something: the instability wasnt just random. The vibrations in the water seemed to be coming from external forces interfering with the spell. What if I could eliminate those influences? I adjusted my approach, picturing a vacuum around the spherean imaginary space that cut off outside disturbances. When I cast the spell again, the water held steady. A perfect, still sphere floated in my palm. "Holy crap, it actually worked!" I grinned. "Am I a genius or what?" Excited, I decided to push my theory further. Instead of a sphere, I attempted to create a cube. I imagined the same vacuum effect, shaping the water into sharp, rigid edges. To my shock, the spell materialized flawlessly. "No way!" My mind raced with possibilities. "So the vacuum theory actually works" Feeling confident, I set myself a new challenge: maintaining the water sphere for as long as possible. I managed to hold it for fifteen whole minutesan insane improvement from my previous failures. I clenched my fist in excitement. That day, we had a feastmore food than Id ever seen on a table before. A complete contrast to my past life, where dinner was usually instant noodles or whatever cheap takeout I could afford, eaten alone in the dim glow of my computer screen. Something about eating together as a family felt... warm. Comforting. Why had I never done this before? Then, like a cruel joke, my mind pulled me back. A memory struck, unbiddena sharp, suffocating vision of cold water and mocking laughter. My head, shoved into a toilet. My struggles met only with sneers. The voices of classmates and even teachers, ridiculing me. The blonde rich kid and his gang, their jeering faces burned into my mind. My breath caught in my throat, my hands tightening into fists beneath the table. Alfred, dear? Are you alright? Did something upset your stomach? My mothers concerned voice cut through the haze. My fathers brows furrowed as he set down his mug. You look pale, son. Was today too much for you? I forced a smile. No, really. Everythings fine. The foods great. They didnt seem entirely convinced, but they let it slide as I shoved more food into my mouth, hoping to bury the memories along with it. The meal continued, but I had already lost my appetite. I think Ill turn in early. Goodnight, Mom. Dad. I left the table before they could protest, heading straight for my room. Once inside, I flopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling, my emotions twisting into an unrelenting storm. That memory... I hated it more than anything else. No matter how hard I tried to forget, it clung to me like a parasite. I had been powerless. A joke. A punching bag. No matter how much I screamed for help, no one ever came. I clenched my fists, teeth grinding as I struck my bed in frustration. Not this time. Not in this world. I didnt care how unfair my reincarnation wasI would fight for my place. I would become strong. I would ride that mecha, like the Purple Mecha Slayer. No one was going to stop me. That was the last thought I had before exhaustion pulled me into sleep.
The next morning, something unprecedented happened: I woke up early. A sight rarer than pigs flying. Maybe the sheer force of my frustration had shocked my body into functioning properly. Taking full advantage of this miraculous event, I got my chores done before anyone could nag me about them. I plowed the fields, watered the crops, and even went to fetch water for the bath. As I neared the well, I spotted someone familiarStickman Senpai, the tall, lanky older kid from yesterday. To my surprise, he wasnt alone. A girl stood beside him, around his age. She was pretty, with soft features and an air of quiet confidence. From the way they spoke, it looked like he was trying to talk to her. Maybe even flirt. Oh, this was gold. After a short conversation, the girl bid him farewell, offering a polite wave before heading off. Stickman Senpai (whose real name I still didnt know) watched her go, looking slightly dazed. It was the perfect opportunity. I crept up behind him, a wicked grin forming on my face. Then, in my best dramatic villain voice, I struck. Well, well, well... What do we have here? Stickman Senpai nearly jumped out of his skin, spinning around with wide eyes. I smirked, arms crossed. Was that your girlfriend? Or are you just out here collecting rejections like theyre rare trading cards? No, I''m not, and she''s not my girlfriendjust a girl who is a friend, okay?!" Stickman Senpai said with a flustered expression, his face turning a shade of red that almost matched the morning sky. "Same thing in my opinion," I said, flashing a wide, playful grin. "No, they''re totally different!" he protested, arms flailing as if trying to physically push the idea away.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. "Sure, sure." I waved him off with a smirk. "Anyway, do you wake up every morning like this? I can barely roll out of bed by nine. Getting up at four or five in the morning is practically superhuman." "Yes, I do," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "But only because I have to get water for the day. She just so happens to do the same thing at the same time as me, alright?" "So it''s all just a coincidence, huh?" I raised a skeptical eyebrow. He nodded frantically, looking almost desperate for me to believe him. To be honest, I kinda called peloni, but whatever. Not my business. "Alright, Stickman Senpai, I believe you," I said, patting him on the shoulder. "But if you ever start thinking about it, just know I''ll be rooting for you." I shot him a teasing grin. He groaned, rubbing his temples. "Ugh, you''re insufferable. Anyway, enough about mewhat about you? I heard you''ve been sneaking off to the scrapyard a lot." I froze for a split second, caught off guard. "Huh? Who told you that?" "People talk, dude. Small town. You think no one notices a kid rummaging around in junk piles?" He crossed his arms, looking down at me with an amused glint in his eyes. "Psh, it''s just a hobby," I said, trying to play it cool. "Some kids like playing knights and bandits. I like digging through old metal and figuring out how stuff works." "Weird hobby," he said with a shrug, "but kinda cool, I guess. So, you find anything interesting? Like, any treasures?" I debated whether to tell him about the weird bracelet or the mechanical glove, but something told me to keep it to myself. "Eh, nothing too crazy. Just some old tools and broken parts." "Huh. Well, if you ever find a mecha buried in there, let me know," he said with a chuckle. "Oh, by the wayalmost forgot to introduce myself properly. Names Roland." "Roland, huh?" I repeated, to myself. "Well, nice to meet you, Roland." "Yeah, yeah," he said, stretching his arms behind his head. "Now, go do whatever it is you do. Me? Ive got actual work to do." With that, we parted ways. As soon as I was clear, I made a beeline for the scrapyard. The sun had fully risen by now, its golden light casting long shadows over the scattered heaps of metal and discarded machinery. Today, I had one goalfind more mecha parts. The walk to the scrapyard felt like second nature at this point. I knew the winding dirt paths, the way the morning sun reflected off rusted metal, and even the sounds of shifting junk as scavengersboth human and animalsearched for valuables. I hummed to myself as I passed by familiar wreckage, keeping an eye out for anything new. Today''s haul wasn''t too bad. I picked up a few discarded wires, some circuit boards, and what looked like an old power cell. If it still had a charge, it might be useful. I stuffed them into my sack, feeling somewhat satisfied with my findings. But then, a shadow loomed over me. I looked up, and there she was. Lyra stood atop a mountain of mechanical components, hands firmly on her hips, her short green hair tousled by the wind. She had that look on her facethe one as if she we''re some kind of scrapyard princess or something. "Well, well, look whos back," she said, her voice dripping with smugness. "Didnt expect to see you here again so soon." I sighed. "Trust me, I was hoping not to run into you either. But here we are." She smirked. "Find anything good? Or just picking up random junk like last time?" I held up the power cell. "This isn''t just junk. If it still works, it could be useful." Her eyes narrowed as she spotted something else in my sack. "Waitwhered you get that?" She pointed to a small metallic plate with strange engravings. I instinctively tightened my grip on my bag. "Found it. Why?" "Because that" she jumped down from her pile, landing lightly on her feet "is exactly what I was looking for. Hand it over." I scoffed. "Yeah, not happening. I found it first. Finders keepers." "You dont even know what it does!" she shot back. "And you do?" She crossed her arms. "Of course I do. Unlike you, I actually know how to use this stuff." That stung a little. Sure, I liked mechas and read about them, but I never actually built anything before. Still, no way was I letting her win this argument. "Then prove it," I challenged. "Show me." Lyra blinked, surprised. Then, a sly grin spread across her face. "Fine. Follow me." She led me through the scrapyard to what I could only describe as a makeshift workshop. It was hidden under the skeleton of an old transport mech, its rusted frame providing some cover from the elements. Inside, scattered across various crates and makeshift tables, were all kinds of mechanical partshalf-built gadgets, energy cores, old exosuit components, even a disassembled arm from what looked like a battle drone. The sheer amount of tech made my jaw drop. Lyra crossed her arms and grinned. "Impressed?" "Actually... yeah," I admitted, stepping closer to examine a device with interlocking gears and wires. "Where did you even get all this stuff?" "Years of scavenging," she said proudly. "And fixing. Unlike you, I dont just collect partsI make things work." I looked around and saw the mechanical gauntlet I wrestled with her some days back. It that had exposed wiring and what looked like a cracked mana circuit. "Does this still function?" "Sort of," she admitted. "Its an exo-enhancer, meant to increase grip strength. The mana circuits busted, though, so it only works at half power." I turned it over in my hands, thinking. "If you reroute the energy through a secondary conduit, you might be able to bypass the damaged section and restore at least 80% efficiency." Lyra looked at me, genuinely surprised. "Huh. Thats... not a bad idea." "I read a little," I said, feeling oddly proud. For the next several minutes, we went over different components, with Lyra explaining how some of them worked while I tried to piece together how they actually. Despite her nasty attitude, she was incredibly knowledgeable. The way she spoke about machines, circuits, and mana-infused techit was clear she had spent years figuring this out. Without thinking, I grabbed her hands. "You''re amazing. Seriously, thank you for showing me all this." Lyra froze. Her face turned slightly pink. "W-what are you doing?" I quickly let go, realizing what I had just done. "Uh, sorry. Got excited." She turned away, waving a hand dismissively. "Whatever. Just dont get all sappy on me." I grinned. "Sure thing, scrapyard princess." "Ugh, dont call me that." I chuckled as I glanced around the workshop once more. Im actually having a little fun.
After spending what felt like hours in Lyras makeshift workshop, I finally noticed how much time had passed. The sun had shifted high in the sky, casting angled shadows over the scattered junk and tech. Even if most of this stuff was scrap, to me, it was fascinating. Circuit boards, broken servos, half-intact exoskeleton framesit was all cooler than anything Id ever seen before. I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the stiffness settle into my shoulders. Man, I totally lost track of time. I gotta head back home before I get an earful. Lyra, who had been fiddling with a small drone-like device, barely glanced up. Hmph, not my problem, she muttered. I smirked. You know what? Whatever I find from now on, Ill just drop it off here. That got her attention. She raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. Oh? And why the sudden generosity? Theres one condition, I said, holding up a finger. She crossed her arms, curiosity flickering in her sharp amber eyes. Alright, Ill bite. What is it? I get to help with building and fixing the broken parts too, I said with confidence. Lyra blinked, then let out a short laugh. You? Yes, me, I said, already expecting her skepticism. She tilted her head, sizing me up. Youre still very, very, very lacking. I twitched. I heard that first very, you know. Her lips curled into a smug grin. Oh? Maybe you shouldve heard the other two more clearly. I rolled my eyes. So? Whats the verdict? She tapped her chin as if in deep thought before finally sighing. Fine. A little help wouldnt hurt. I grinned. Nice! Then Ill swing by every day, bring whatever I can find, and we can fix stuff together. Just dont slow me down, she warned. As we made our way out of the scrapyard, we exchanged a casual wave. Lyra, ever the stubborn one, tried to keep her usual smug expression,though a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her lips. After spending what felt like hours in Lyras makeshift workshop, I finally noticed how much time had passed. The sun had shifted high in the sky, casting angled shadows over the scattered junk and tech. Even if most of this stuff was scrap, to me, it was fascinating. Circuit boards, broken servos, half-intact exoskeleton framesit was all cooler than anything Id ever seen before. I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the stiffness settle into my shoulders. Man, I totally lost track of time. I gotta head back home before I get an earful. Lyra, who had been fiddling with a small drone-like device, barely glanced up. Hmph, not my problem, she muttered. I smirked. You know what? Whatever I find from now on, Ill just drop it off here. That got her attention. She raised an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. Oh? And why the sudden generosity? Theres one condition, I said, holding up a finger. She crossed her arms, curiosity flickering in her sharp amber eyes. Alright, Ill bite. What is it? I get to help with building and fixing the broken parts too, I said with confidence. Lyra blinked, then let out a short laugh. You? Yes, me, I said, already expecting her skepticism. She tilted her head, sizing me up. Youre still very, very, very lacking. I twitched. I heard that first very, you know. Her lips curled into a smug grin. Oh? Maybe you shouldve heard the other two more clearly. I rolled my eyes. So? Whats the verdict? She tapped her chin as if in deep thought before finally sighing. Fine. A little help wouldnt hurt. I grinned. Nice! Then Ill swing by every day, bring whatever I can find, and we can fix stuff together. Just dont slow me down, she warned. As we made our way out of the scrapyard, we exchanged a casual wave. Lyra, ever the stubborn one, tried to keep her usual smug expression, but I caught a glimpse of something elsea small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Not that I was going to make a big deal out of it. Like usual, after returning home, I went off to practice my water magic. Finding an isolated spot, I steadied my breathing and extended my hand. A small sphere of water hovered above my palm, shimmering with reflected light. Id gotten better at this. A week ago, I could barely maintain the shape for five minutes, but now? I could hold it for nearly an hour. My control is way better than before. But something still felt off. The sphere was unnaturally still, as if frozen in time rather than flowing naturally like real water should. This time, I wanted to try something differentmotion. I closed my eyes and focused, imagining the water not just floating but moving. I funneled my magic into the spheres core, applying pressure to create a spinning motion. At first, nothing happened. Then, the water began to rotate. Yes! But within moments, an intense drain hit me. My stamina plummeted, and the sphere collapsed after barely a minute. I exhaled sharply. What the hell? I had held it perfectly still for an hour, but making it spin? Barely one minute before I was exhausted. I sat down, catching my breath. Is it because Im manipulating the water more? After a short break, I tried again. This time, I focused purely on rotation, sending all my intent into the core of the spell. Ten seconds. Thats all I managed before it shattered again. What makes this so different? Frustrated, I thought back to my mothers magic. When she controlled water, it flowed. She didnt just command itshe guided it, allowing it to follow the natural motion of the world. Thats when it clicked. Before, I was trying to force movement. But maybe instead of directly controlling every motion, I needed to set the conditions for it to move on its own. I visualized a whirlpoolnot just the act of spinning the water but creating the conditions for it to form naturally. The moment I cast the spell, something changed. The water swirled smoothly around the spheres core, forming a controlled vortex that felt almost effortless compared to before. It still drained my energy, but nowhere near as much. Does this world use a command-based magic system? It would explain a lot. Instead of micromanaging every detail, magic might work better when given broad commands with strong intent. I clenched my fist, determination swelling in my chest. If I could figure this out, maybe just maybe I could push my magic even further. I could make it to the main capital, and at least get closer to piloting a mecha one day.