Having mechanical arms made the work a lot easier.
They let me do things that would have been impossible with my original strength.
Even so, the pump replacement took longer than expected.
It was because the tasks kept piling up one after another-pipe replacements, filter cleaning, sludge draining, motor installation, and more.
“We’ll keep the pipes open until the pressure stabilizes.” Arva said in a clear voice.
Several hours into the job, she showed no signs of fatigue whatsoever.
But sweat had poured down my back, soaking my commander’s uniform.
“…I’m dying here.” ECHO was different, alright.
Alpha was fine even as she hauled heavy materials outside and worked on the pipes at the same time.
Arva nimbly moved across the top, adjusting valves, calmly chatting with Alpha to check the results.
In contrast, my whole body was starting to ache.
On top of that, the moisture buildup inside my mask made breathing uncomfortable.
“Commander.” Arva’s voice, cold as steel, came from above.
She stopped turning the valve handle and looked down at me.
Then she spoke again.
“You should take a break.
We’ll handle the rest.” “…I’m fine.” I said that, but my breathing was ragged.
Arva lightly jumped down from the pipe and stood in front of me.
“Your role isn’t fieldwork, Commander.
It’s command and decision-making.
Any decline in your condition raises the survival risk for the entire squad and the Ark.
That’s an irrational choice.” There wasn’t a hint of emotion in her words.
But more than any worried phrase, I could feel she was thinking of me.
“…Alright, I’ll rest a bit.” In the end, I surrendered first.
“Thank you.” I caught a glimpse of Arva exhaling shortly at my response.
I’d worried her in more ways than one, it seemed.
‘This is no joke.
It’s on a whole different level from grinding.’ I leaned against the cold wall and caught my breath.
Before my eyes were two ECHO units continuing the work with perfect breathing and no fatigue.
Alpha silently moved scrap materials and replaced pipes, while Arva operated the control panel, directing the repair sequence.
Women who looked like perfect machines.
And me, so utterly different from them.
Before we started the work.
The new original ECHO had said we weren’t in a rush for one right away, but that was wrong.
To normalize the Ark, we needed even one more ECHO.
We needed ECHO units that could support Arva and Pomen, or at least perform on their level.
The more we had, the faster we could restore the Ark.
I slowly stood up from my spot.
Arva’s gaze turned puzzled as she noticed me.
“Arva.” “…You need more rest, Commander.” “No, sorry to change the subject, but…” I looked at Arva and said, “I want you to tell me again about what you mentioned earlier.
About Noah, the final piece of the ‘Arclight Squad.’ Where is she now?” ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ My question sank heavily into the humid air.
And Arva froze.
Every function of hers, which hadn’t paused for even a moment until now, stopped as if someone had hit pause.
She was like a statue.
Except for her eyes, which moved fiercely.
“Reporting, Commander.” After a long silence, Arva slowly opened her mouth.
Her voice was unnaturally flat, unlike her halted movements.
“Model name Aegis-o, codename Noah.
She is currently in minimal life support in the third culture fluid tank in the Ark’s lowest medical sector.” It was a voice like a perfectly controlled machine, stripped of all emotion, reciting only data.
“Minimal life support?” More than half-destroyed, then?
“Was she injured during the Blast Operation?” “No.” “Then?” “Noah was half-destroyed during your rescue, Commander.” What?
Arva’s voice pierced my ear like an ice shard.
“You bear no responsibility, Commander.
Noah went into battle of her own will and conviction, solely to protect you.” I opened my mouth, then closed it again.
And cold data poured from Arva’s lips.
“To maintain her life currently, it consumes 1.5kW of power per hour, 25L of culture fluid per week, and 1 unit of stabilization kit.” “I see…” “And we have three weeks’ worth of stabilization kits left.” “…That’s all?
No more in the Ark?” “Central AI states there are no stabilization kits left in the Ark.
To obtain more, we’ll likely need to go outside.” “…Production?” “Impossible with current facilities.” I could see why Arva and Pomen hadn’t mentioned Noah.
Every reason sounded like a perfect, rational justification to abandon her.
And that wasn’t the end of it.
“Repair impossible?” “No ‘Astra Core Catalyst’ available for repair.
Production also impossible.” “…I see.” For a moment, my thoughts turned to the Money Compass in the commander’s quarters.
Maybe it had an Astra Core Catalyst?
Then we could revive Noah.
That was when it happened.
◇ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ✪ NOAH is currently combat-incapable, with less than 0.1% chance of recovery.
Cease life support?
“…What?” I snapped my head up.
What the hell was she saying?
“What do you mean by that?” “Maintaining Noah burdens the Ark’s resources continuously.
Given the purified water and power situation for culture fluid production, cessation is rational.
Other commanders…
would likely make that call.” My chest tightened instantly.
So that’s why Arva avoided talking about Noah…
Rational?
Efficient?
ECHO was more important than that.
Skipping a few meals to pull the ECHO I wanted?
That was nothing.
Especially in this world, ECHO was…
my lifeline.
And I wasn’t cold-blooded enough to abandon the ECHO who saved my life.
“Arva, never bring that kind of calculation in front of me again.” At my rebuke, Arva’s shoulders twitched almost imperceptibly.
Arva said nothing.
Her eyes, always fixed on me, lost focus and stared at a point in the void.
It felt like she was processing and analyzing data.
In fact, Arva was preparing for the worst-case scenario.
◇ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ✪ [Data Error: Optimal rational option rejected by ‘anger’ emotional response.] [Cross-verification with past Failed.
98.7% mismatch with previous commanders’ patterns.] Noah was dead.
Or not completely, but she soon would be.
Even if an Aegis was remade later from Noah’s genes left in the main Ark, it wouldn’t be the Noah they knew.
That was why they hadn’t told me about her.
Fear that the Commander would cut off her life support.
So Arva had withheld the report.
Maintaining Noah was a clear resource waste, and stopping it was the most logical choice for the Ark’s survival.
It happened often in previous Arks, so Arva and Pomen feared the same for Noah.
But…
The Commander before her was different.
Pomen Message This Commander is weird.
Not only did he take an enemy attack for me, but he worried about me first even after seeing his arm completely smashed.
Pomen was right.
This Commander was a completely new type not in her data.
No traces of the ‘anger,’ ‘annoyance,’ or ‘disgust’ toward ECHO in the general database.
After a long silence, Arva slowly bowed her head.
All her logic and calculations were useless before this irrational decision.
Like a scolded machine doll.
Arva whispered softly.
“…Order acknowledged, Commander.” Her faint response carried a sense of relief about the situation.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The not-quite-battle in D-7 Sector was over.
It was just the end of the day’s work, really.
Arva and I returned to the command post, but Alpha stayed to keep working.
And Arva, whose escort duty was done, said she’d continue with Alpha.
“This is tough.” Back at the command post, I had a late meal.
Calling it a meal, it was just one tube of high-concentration nutrient solution.
Sighing at the thick gray liquid, I braced myself.
I’d seen ECHO sharing nutrients sometimes, so I figured it was fine, but this was disgustingly bad.
“Like dissolving combat rations in lukewarm water and adding a metallic tang?” How do ECHO endure a day on this?
Do they skip meals on purpose?
“Ughhh…” Anyway, the nutrients were overflowing, so I forced it down and rinsed my throat with water.
“Gotta develop food supplies soon.” Surviving days on this?
It went beyond inconvenience—my sanity would wear down.
But something more important came first.
Click.
Opening the lid brought up a translucent hologram interface.
I navigated the UI, searching for materials needed to repair Noah.
* ITEM INFO X [Astra Core Catalyst] Grade: ★★★★★ The only substance that reactivates the functions of a core made from the ultra-rare ‘Astra’ material.
Even a half-destroyed core can attempt a restart if life support is active.
Price: 45,000C “More expensive than I thought?” The C-3 sweep got me 1,500C-exactly thirty times that.
But no need to hesitate.
Investment for later?
No, this was about survival.
As I bought the core catalyst and checked other repair materials, Someone knocked on the commander’s quarters door.
“Come in.” Kiiik.
The door opened with a smooth sound.
“Heard you broke Arva today, Commander?” Pomen looked at me with her usual thick, sultry smile.
Because of last night?
Her eyes were dangerous and alluring, like a panther about to devour me.
“Broke her?
Me?” “Yeah, she told me everything.
You said never to bring that crap up again?” Do they have no secrets?
Or maybe not keeping it secret?
Anyway, Pomen approached and hopped onto my desk, crossing her long legs.
The line of her sleek thigh was dizzying.
“How do you think I felt hearing that?” Pomen licked her red lips with her tongue as she asked.
Every move was so deliberate.
Her low, sticky voice licked my ear and seeped in.
“Wh-what?” “Our Commander became unbearably lovable.” “So, about that…” Pomen leaned in slightly, staring straight into my eyes.
Then, with cat-like flexibility right in front of me, she spread her legs.
“— —!!!” “Already soaking from excitement?” Her low, sweet breath tickled my ear.
Her finger slipped the leotard aside, revealing her pink pussy.
It was glistening with arousal, just as she said.
“That warmth you showed another ECHO…
can you pour it on me too?” “Ideally, fill my hole with it, Commander?
Like last night…
I can’t live without you now.” “You little slut—!” “Kyaa!
Ahhn-!
There!
Right there!!!
Suck it!!!
Haaah!” I couldn’t hold back.
No, a man who could wasn’t a man.