You know, after years of honing my common sense, if you tell me that on a random day, a random package just spawns in front of my house out of nowhere, and from inside the package, a random entity just casually tells me to embark on a fifty-year journey to save the entire humanity from an invasive alien force, whose probability of occurrence is as good as the numerical metric dimension of a hydrogen atom, I would just laugh and brush it off. That is literally the plot of a science fiction novel. Just a dream that any person can have. Yet, this weird dream of mine has been around for a solid half a year, and it is not like I would wake up any time soon. There is a saying that in a dream, half of the brain is like a director, and the other half just watches it happening like a movie, getting surprised at the plot twists that it creates itself. But, just think of it. What an irony, is it? Even for a brain, generating such vivid content, even without prior exposure or experience, is
- Wah, stop being so careless with your life like that. You do not have nine lives. - That is the voice of Mirai, who is currently "unemployed". Right before the thorns can touch me, Mirai flicks a plate in the middle of the gap between my body and the thorns. Although the thorns are more durable than the shield itself, it gives me an extra second or two to divert my leap course, effectively evading the thorns before they slam themselves onto the ceiling and break. - Tsk, every time one of you interrupts, I forget that the other one exists. - The boss looks a bit pissed off, as he starts to inflict more frequent attacks. The Suicide Drones keep charging at the boss and attempt to blow the exterior layer of his head up, but they are mostly ineffective, if not for the smoke coming from the explosions that may or may not hinder the boss's vision. The other drone units that attack from a range are also firing at full power, but it does not look like they would do
Truly, there are things that I have yet to learn from this even more mysterious humanoid robot right beside me. Right in front of my eyes now, there stands a six-metre mechanical and manually controlled robot, rivalling the absurd size of the boss's robot. Before I even realise it, Mirai has one-handedly picked me up from the ground and jump into the interior of the mech, via an opening in the chest area.- Why are you so hurried? I am still marvelling at the beauty of this year 2100's creation.- We are not in a power ranger series. That boss will not spare some time watching us looking at the mech. Now, get yourself familiarised with the controls. It is just like a video game. - Mirai knocks on my head. The boss initiates the first attack. Metallic cannons mount on its right shoulder, and loads of energy spheres are hurled at us in a blink. While I am focusing on the array of buttons, levers, controls and the real-time screen in front of me, Mirai has summo
Getting ejected from the mech suddenly, I barely have enough reaction time to activate my propellers, which thrust me back and accelerate me into the air, right before landing on the ground which is now full of metallic drone scrap, as well as rock fragments and dust. - At least tell me if we are going to do something crazy. - Time is gold, Yuusha. You should have known that long ago, and it is not like you would die anyway. Mirai has gotten ready with the signature, massive Railgun that by now, she is the only one with enough strength to even raise that gun and wield it effortlessly like a knife, so my job is to clear the path for her to reach the boss's core chip and destroy it. I prepare the photon shotgun and reload it with a cartridge of slug shots. - You can just stop your imagination. There is no way that you can touch my armour. - The boss still tries to bluff. - Let's see who is imagining. We have done it once, and we will do it again
The Earth, 12 August 2079, in a small apartment in the middle of the metropolitan city of Tokyo, Japan,... - Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you... The candles flicker in the dim light of the small living room, joining the cheers of four people in the apartment who are clapping delightfully towards the fourth birthday of a certain somebody. - Wah, thank you, mama, papa, and grandma! The petite figure joins her little hands together, makes a prayer, and blows the candle. As innocent as the deep blue sky, untainted with clouds, and as cute as a button, as well as a mysterious aura of a knowledgeable scholar, the lovely child is nobody else, other than Mirai Sasaki. The clumsy hands then grab the plastic knife, her eyes look at the cake, calculating the angles in her mind. Then, she cuts the cake into four exactly equal portions. The cake may be fragile, so her mother helps her to distribute the four pieces of the cake to the family. Born in a fam
Tokyo, Japan, the Earth, Thursday, January 5, 2051. - Sixty-five... Sixty-six... About forty drones left. And we are running out of materials. - I make the probably loudest sigh ever. The thrilling one-week journey to Australia has ended, but the repercussions are just, you know, painful. A rough check on damage statistics tells me that a hundred per cent of our drones suffer from circuit damage, which is cheap. However, a third of them break down due to falling, which adds salt to the wound of my bank card. And not stopping there, a six-metre tall robot is sitting in the archive, waiting eagerly to be fixed and hurting my income. This festive season is what I anticipate the most but things just spiral out of control for this unlucky year. Pods linking from my house to my parents' house were suddenly broken down due to snow or something, and no companies were working during this period to fix them, making me stuck in Tokyo. I plan to take some rest by indulging myself
A cruise is just like a panacea that overloads my productivity. Within just two days, I spend all of my available time working my sweat out to fix the drones. The duty of robot fixing, after some negotiations, has been transferred to Mirai. She says that she can delay her research later. Soon, the day of the cruise comes like a wind. We already find ourselves carrying a backpack and a suitcase, queueing at the Tokyo Cruise International Terminal and waiting to get on board. Although it is still freezing winter in Japan and the rest of the countries residing in the middle portion of the Northern Hemisphere, again, it is summer in the south. - Why is it so cold? - Mirai is hugging herself and trembling. - How do you even feel the temperature? - Another network of sensory modules spanning across my shell. When I like, I can just switch it on. They would measure the temperature and send corresponding signals to my central processing unit, which sends s
The science area humbly lies beneath the extravagant and majestic chains of entertainment facilities. Designed specifically for researchers and scientists who must race against time to publish papers while still wanting to enjoy a meaningful holiday, the area consists of a lab with every apparatus spanning various fields, a garage-like tech room for creating inventions and fixing machines, and a field open to the public to facilitate virtual reality simulation. This self-explanatory description can easily tell you why the lab and the tech room are almost always empty. Mirai drags me to the tech room. - So, what are we doing here, specifically? - I ask. - Two things. I will be brief. - Go ahead. Mirai just stands still. In the next second, a fleet of drones appears in front of my eyes like a performance. - That is what I get from analysing the core chip. It seems to use the same technology as our BlueTooth, except that the Intruders can man