Sora didn't miss a beat when Robin asked her question—even as he continued playing with the children.
"It's nothing. Just a small errand," he said lightly.
Once the kids had dispersed, Sora reached up and took off the wreath from his head.
It had no flowers, no leaves, only brittle twigs woven together—but it was infused with something far more important: the children's hope for a future, even in the midst of the apocalypse.
"I just want to see it turn colorful someday."
With a smile, he placed it back on his head.
One day, it would bloom—full of vibrant petals and fresh green leaves.
Because that was something even a half-baked tough guy ought to do.
No, Sora corrected himself with a grin. I'm not a half-baked tough guy. I'm a galactic-class tough guy!
Robin watched him, suspicion flickering in her eyes… but curiosity soon gave way to amusement as Sora patted her shoulder.
"Come on, come on. Don't sweat the details. What we should be doing is playing with the kids."
Without waiting for a reply, he dove back into the group of children, laughing and joining in their games.
Robin stood there quietly, watching him. For the time being, she let her doubts fade.
Yeah... no matter what, there's no way Sora would do anything bad.
Because he was—undeniably—a very lovable person.
Like now, surrounded by kids, wearing a crown of dried twigs like it was something out of legend.
Though… with the way it's perched on his head, he kind of looks like a balding old man from the Mediterranean…
Robin immediately regretted the thought—but once the image formed in her mind, she couldn't unsee it.
She slapped a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh out loud.
…Is she okay?
Sora blinked at her, completely baffled.
"Hahaha! I knew you'd say yes!"
Ouja greeted him with an enthusiastic slap on the back that made Sora wince.
Her strength, as usual, was ridiculous.
Sora's poor back...
Ouja might've walked the Path of Preservation, but she still acted like she was just a normal human. Which meant she hit with all the force of a freight train and zero awareness of it.
Back when he first transmigrated, before he got the G3X system, a slap like that might've killed him.
But that was just who Ouja was. Simple. Straightforward. The type who held no grudges.
Even though he'd ambushed and pinned her the first time they met, she'd let it go as soon as they escaped together.
She laughed when things were good, and forgot the bad almost immediately.
I hope she stays that way forever...
No, he corrected himself again, she will stay that way.
Sora smiled faintly—right as she clapped him on the back again.
"Hey hey hey, why aren't you saying anything?" Ouja tilted her head at him.
Sora steadied himself, a little exasperated.
"I was just catching my breath after playing with the kids."
"Ahhh! Did I interrupt you? Sorry, sorry!"
He shook his head and turned serious.
The task ahead demanded it.
Over fifty fighters were being deployed—nearly the entire defense force of the settlement. That left only a skeleton crew to guard the civilians.
The War Foundry was located several hundred kilometers away, and they'd already gathered a good amount of intel on its defenses.
Clearly, this plan had been in motion for some time.
The closer one got to the Foundry, the more Voidrangers there were—especially a specific long-range type: the Eradicators.
"In other words," Sora said, eyes narrowing, "this place is truly a fortress. We won't get many chances. We need to succeed the first time."
Ouja, now fully in mission mode, nodded with grim focus.
The map displayed their objective:
The War Foundry.
---
Eradicators—a ranged combat unit forged by the War Foundry.
Infused with the memories of the dead, they retained all the techniques of elite marksmen.
Though mindless, their shots were terrifyingly accurate.
And now, one stood watch.
Its body had been enhanced—allowing it to target enemies from kilometers away.
More than that, it could sense the flow of imaginary particles—predicting its target's movements through the void itself.
It was created for one purpose only: to kill at a distance.
Suddenly, it felt something.
A ripple in the ground. Brief. Subtle. Gone in an instant.
Its visual sensors locked onto the disturbance—but the barren landscape offered no target.
Grrr?
The Eradicator growled—though its intelligence was far too low for true reasoning.
Still, it returned its focus to scanning—only for another disturbance to ripple across its sensors.
And this time, a sound carried with it—distant and distorted:
"[...KER!!]"
Ka…?
Ka what?
It honed its sensors to maximum resolution—and saw it.
Fragments of violet light gathering into a human shape.
And then—two glowing red eyes ignited in the distance.
The Eradicator froze—then trembled with anticipation.
Destruction surged within its core. It hungered for this prey.
With inhuman precision, it lifted its plasma cannon and locked on to the approaching figure.
Destroy.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Three shots erupted from its weapon, screaming toward the figure in a blur of burning light.
But Sora didn't flinch.
He raised his right fist—
—and punched.
His strike met the first shot square on.
And to the Eradicator's utter confusion… the round deflected off his knuckles.
BOOM!
The explosion rocked the air. Fire and smoke billowed outward.
And from within the inferno—
The violet figure burst through, riding a roaring motorcycle straight toward it.