Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 113 - Anti-Matter Bomb

The cybernetic handcuffs locked around Ismail Arondight’s wrists with a satisfying clink, their chrome finish glinting faintly under the harsh floodlights overhead. Myrrh—now fully reverted to her human form—stood beside him, her chest rising and falling with silent triumph. She’d managed to subdue him using standard-issue KAWAII Agent tech, though I didn’t dare ask how she even got her hands on that kind of gear. Knowing her, it was probably a combination of charm, hacking, and well-timed threats.

“Ismail Arondight,” Myrrh began, her voice steady and commanding, edged with a chill that sent shivers down my spine. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the Xyraxis Court. You have the right to speak to an attorney and have one present during your questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you at the expense of the Xyraxis government. Do you understand these rights I’ve just recited to you?”

The way she delivered those words—cold, sharp, and precise—felt almost rehearsed, like she had been waiting years to say them. A strange déjà vu washed over me, dragging me back to our chaotic first encounter at that shady casino during our high school days. Ironically, Ismail was getting a more dignified arrest than I ever did. Back then, Myrrh simply judo-slammed me into a carpeted floor without a word about lawyers or legal rights. Some things never change.

“Now get up.” Myrrh tugged at the chain between the cuffs, yanking Ismail to his feet. He stumbled slightly, his breath ragged, sweat streaking down his temples and soaking into the collar of his armored vest. The fire in his eyes had dulled—he was exhausted, cornered, and done.

Moments later, backup finally arrived. Sirens pierced the air as KAWAII Agents and armored SWAT teams stormed the area. Police drones hovered above like watchful vultures, while military trucks and vans rolled in, blocking off the highway. The once-empty overpass became a staging ground for justice. Dozens of armed personnel poured out, rounding up the remaining terrorists—each one bearing the twisted five-sided swastika tattoo of the Neo Terrestrial Reich.

“Good job, Myrrh!” Agent Feena’s voice rang out as she strode toward us, her heels clicking against the pavement. Her long pink ponytail swayed with each step, catching the wind like a proud banner. She flashed a bright, proud smile as she glanced down at Ismail. “This slippery snake has evaded us for years… and you managed to collar him like it was nothing.”

“Hmph.” Myrrh puffed out her chest with pride, her green ribbons fluttering slightly as she struck a confident pose—her breasts bouncing ever so subtly with the motion. “It’s just a basic skill,” she declared, as if she hadn’t just singlehandedly brought down a cyberterrorist mastermind.

Fei, Neil, and I exchanged awkward smiles. Yeah… no. That was definitely not a basic skill. What Myrrh pulled off was borderline impossible—especially considering how broken Ismail’s hacking abilities were. He practically nullified all digital support within seconds. If Myrrh hadn’t improvised on the fly, we’d be the ones in cuffs.

Agent Feena turned her bright eyes toward Fei and Neil, her smile never fading. “You must be Fei Xian and Neil Orbeus, right?” she said, extending her hand graciously. “Thank you both for aiding in the capture of the Neo Terrestrial Reich’s acting commander. On behalf of the Xyraxis Government, and as the Officer-in-Charge of KAWAII, I’m pleased to inform you that you won’t be charged with terrorism.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Fei responded with a gentle bow, her jet-black hair catching the light as she dipped forward in graceful politeness.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give any solid info about the founder Eldlich Shreiber…” Neil muttered, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grimace. His wavy brown hair was slightly frizzed, either from stress or the earlier firefight.

Agent Feena waved it off, her expression calm but purposeful. “No worries. We’ve got other ways of tracking down the founder of the NTR—starting with this lovely specimen right here.” She gestured casually with her thumb, poking Ismail Arondight’s cheek with a bit more force than necessary. He grunted, but said nothing, his pride already crumbling.

“Oh—and Miss Xian,” Feena added, turning back with a warm glimmer in her eyes. “Your clan is now officially under Interpol protection in mainland China. We’ve ensured the other NTR remnants won’t be able to touch them again.”

“Haaah…” Neil finally exhaled, his entire body relaxing as if someone had pulled a thousand-volt cable out of his back. His shoulders sagged with relief. “Finally.”

“Haaah…” Fei placed a delicate hand over her chest and let out a soft, relieved sigh.

At the exact same moment, Neil mirrored her, exhaling deeply as his shoulders drooped. Their eyes met. A beat passed between them—and then they both burst into laughter. It was genuine, light, and familiar. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, they looked like the old Fei and Neil again—just like during midterms, when they used to bicker over algebra formulas one second and share sweets the next. Seeing them reconcile, side by side, brought an involuntary smile to my face. It was like watching spring return after a long, bitter winter.

But before I could fully soak in the moment, Agent Feena turned to me, stepping forward with her signature confident stride.

“And you, Zaft Callahan,” she said, her voice sweet but loaded with intent.

I raised my chin and planted my hands on my hips, puffing my chest in mock grandeur. “Go ahead. Praise me. This was all part of my master plan.”

Without warning, Agent Feena lunged forward, wrapping her arm around my neck in a tight headlock. Her knuckles rained down on my temple in rapid-fire noogies that made my head rattle like a maraca.

“Ow! Owowow! It hurts! Stahp!” I yelped, flailing like a caught squirrel.

“This was beyond reckless!” she snapped, grinding her fist even harder into my scalp. “Your plan, my ass! Do you have any idea how much paperwork I’d have to file if one of my interns ended up in a body bag? You even had your partner fight Ismail Arondight—Ismail freaking Arondight! You’re no genius! You’re a lunatic with a death wish!”

“But you approved the plan!” I cried out, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. “You mailed me, remember?!”

To be fair, she did. For the past several days, I’d been sneaking old-school handwritten notes onto Agent Feena’s desk, detailing every move of my strategy to corner and capture Ismail. With NTR’s eyes all over cyberspace and every smart device we used, I had no choice but to go analog—paper, pen, and nerves of steel. It turned into a weirdly thrilling back-and-forth: I’d leave a note before dawn, and by sundown, I’d find her response buried under files or tucked inside my lovely photocopy machine. Not even Myrrh knew.

It was risky. Maybe even insane. But it worked.

In truth, I never intended for Myrrh to be part of this mess. This whole operation was supposed to be a clean takedown—quiet, calculated, and contained. Dragging her into the fray was probably Agent Feena’s idea, thinking we needed extra firepower. But that completely missed the point. I didn’t want Myrrh anywhere near the line of fire.

Still… everything seemed to end on a high note.

Or so we thought.

Out of nowhere, a low, bone-chilling chuckle cut through the air.

“Hahahaha…”

All eyes snapped toward Ismail Arondight, whose lips curled into a jagged, bloodied grin. The sound of his laughter echoed strangely off the pavement, warped and unhinged, as if it came from something inhuman.

Agent Feena released me from her headlock, stepping forward with narrowed eyes. Her entire posture shifted—every muscle tensed, all humor gone. “What’s so funny, terrorist?” she asked, her tone ice-cold.

Ismail coughed, spat a tooth to the ground, and smirked through smeared blood. “If you think this is over…” he wheezed, eyes glinting with madness, “think again. I’d rather go out in flames than rot in your precious little court.”

Then, with one final breath, he roared:

“Sieg Heil Imperium!”

My heart skipped a beat. “W-what are you talking about?” I muttered, but my voice barely made a sound. A chill ran straight down my spine, cold and paralyzing.

That’s when I felt it—a vibration. Subtle, but unmistakable. My hand instinctively reached toward the briefcase I’d stolen earlier from Ismail’s table, the one I’d carefully kept hidden. I never told anyone what was inside, except for Fei and Neil who are fully aware of its contents. A cool million in untraceable cash… or so I thought.

But now… it was blinking.

Red.

Myrrh glanced at me, her blue eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the flashing light. “Uh… Zaft? What’s that?”

My throat went dry. The weight of the briefcase suddenly felt like a bomb in my hands.

Because maybe… that’s exactly what it was.

Without thinking, I popped open the briefcase’s latch, expecting stacks of high-grade bills or at least encrypted cash cards. But instead—nothing.

No cash. No currency. Just the cold sting of betrayal.

The million-dollar display I saw earlier had been a hologram, nothing more than a carefully crafted illusion to bait me. And now that illusion was gone—replaced by a pulsing red glow that flooded the interior of the case like a warning siren.

My breath hitched as I stared inside.

Tangled wires ran like veins across the inner casing, all converging on a spinning, orb-like reactor at the center. Its surface shimmered with unstable energy, and thin coils surrounding it were starting to vibrate at increasing speed. But what truly sent ice into my veins was the text flashing above it, projected in clear, sharp red:

[ANTI-MATTER BOMB ARMED]

[TIME BEFORE DETONATION: 05:00]

My blood turned cold.

The reactor’s core began to spin faster, the mechanical whirr building into a shrill crescendo. The blinking red lights started to beat in rapid succession—like a countdown. Like a heartbeat. Like a death knell.

“Quick! Throw it away!” Agent Feena shouted, her voice cracking the silence like a whip.

But I didn’t move.

“It’s no use!” Ismail cackled behind us, even while blood dripped from his mouth. He looked delirious with triumph. “That thing is an anti-matter bomb! A conceptual superweapon we've spent years perfecting! Small enough to carry, powerful enough to level the entire Xyraxis Metropolis!”

The very mention of that shook the air. People screamed. Officers stepped back. I could feel the world shrinking around me, the weight of this cursed case pressing down on my soul.

Then, before I could react, a blur of blonde green shot past me.

Myrrh.

“Give me that!” she growled, snatching the briefcase clean from my hands. Her grip was firm, unwavering—there was no hesitation in her movement, only resolve.

With her other hand, she raised her morpher toward the sky.

“Frame Unit… Awaken!”

The moment those words left her lips, a blinding surge of green light exploded around her. Energy tendrils curled from her morpher like vines of pure willpower, wrapping around her body as particles shifted, plates materialized, and her combat armor- her Frame Unit began to assemble with a roar of digital machinery.