Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit

Chapter 115 - Falling Fairy

Time warped—bending, stretching—as my perception fractured into slow motion. Crimson circuits pulsed across my right arm like veins of liquid fire, and before thought could catch up, my hand flew to the WEEB System’s holographic interface. With a sharp press, the [Timesphere] Weapon of Mass Destruction flared into activation.

“Myrrh!” I cried, my voice cracking the frozen air. I thrust my arm skyward, toward her figure suspended in the heavens.

“Timesphere, Activate!”

A radiant cybernetic sigil burst open from Myrrh’s Frame Unit, spinning like a digital halo across her back. Its segments rotated with mathematical grace, expanding outward into a massive crimson bubble that rippled like a drop of blood across glass. The moment it enveloped her, time around her buckled—folding in on itself.

The antimatter bomb, seconds from annihilation, froze in its final breath. Not with an explosive roar, but with a grotesque elegance: atoms stretching apart at a torturous crawl, a deadly bloom unfolding petal by petal in molasses-slow silence. Tendrils of black-blue antimatter clawed outward, inching across space like reaching fingers suspended in syrup.

Light still pierced the Timesphere, illuminating Myrrh like a stained-glass angel at the eye of apocalypse. But everything else—the bomb, the air, the particles—was locked in a dying tableau.

I gritted my teeth. Five seconds. That’s all the Timesphere gives. Five real seconds before reality catches up and the antimatter consumes us all.

“Do it, Myrrh!” I shouted, my voice cracking against the electric tension in the air.

“YAAAAAAAH!”

Myrrh let out a feral war cry, a sound full of courage and desperation, as her thrusters flared to life. Crimson plasma trails burned behind her like wings of a shooting star. She rocketed forward, headlong into the heart of the suspended explosion—an antimatter bloom frozen mid-detachment.

The blast had swelled to nearly thirty meters across, a sphere of slow-churning oblivion glowing with violent light. Myrrh’s Frame Unit spread its limbs, and with mechanical precision, her twin machine arms extended and grappled the edge of the forming annihilation—not to fight it, but to redirect it.

With gritted teeth and every servo screaming, she pushed the hungry explosion toward the shimmering rift—a tear in spacetime hovering near the orbit of Jupiter. Every inch forward was a miracle of will and engineering.

And then—

Zero.

The Timesphere collapsed. Time surged back like a tidal wave. In the blink of an eye, the antimatter bomb unleashed its cataclysmic roar inside the rift. A brilliant white flare burst in the far-off sky—just a pinprick of radiance from where we stood, no louder than a twinkling star on a moonless night.

Agent Feena exhaled, her breath catching with raw relief. One by one, the KAWAII Agents broke into cheers. Fei clapped her hands to her chest, trembling. Neil whooped, throwing a fist in the air.

“We’re safe!” someone cried.

“Myrrh did it!” Agent Feena beamed, tears catching the light in her eyes.

“Thank goodness...” Fei whispered.

“That’s our Myrrh,” Neil grinned wide. “To her, this was just another basic skill!”

But I didn’t join the celebration. I couldn’t. Not yet.

The cheers around me faded into static as I stared into the empty sky, a knot of dread tightening in my chest. The radio link was dead—severed the moment the antimatter bomb went off. A cold silence filled the comms, and with it, fear.

“Myrrh?” I called, my voice tentative, hoping to hear even a flicker of static in return.

Nothing.

“Myrrh! Are you okay? Please respond!”

My voice cracked with desperation.

People began to notice. The laughter, the high-fives, the joyous shouting... all of it quieted around me. One by one, the KAWAII Agents turned toward me, eyes widening as the reality settled in.

“Myrrh! Answer me!” I shouted, louder now, almost screaming. “Hey—Myrrh!!”

Still, silence.

“Look!” Agent Feena gasped, her finger darting skyward.

I followed her gaze—

And there, slicing across the dark heavens like a wounded comet, was something falling.

A star? No—a Frame Unit. Huge. Mangled. Metallic.

Myrrh.

Her white armor, once pristine and glowing with pride, now bore seared black scars. The golden trim that once shimmered with elegance had dulled into a battered bronze. The luminous blue circuits that once pulsed like a heartbeat were now dead—no glow, no power.

Worse still, her limbs—

They were gone. Charred. Melted. Only her left leg remained intact, and even that trembled as it fell through the sky like a broken wing.

She wasn’t answering.

And she was falling fast.

“Myrrh!” I screamed, bursting into a run after the falling star. My mind raced, frantically calculating the trajectory of her plummeting Frame Unit—where it would crash, how fast, how far. But the flood of thoughts overwhelmed my balance. My foot caught on a crack, and suddenly I was face-first on the rough ground.

“Gah!” Pain flared across my cheek, but I didn’t have time to waste.

Suddenly, a strong grip yanked me back by the collar. I looked up into the fierce emerald glow of Agent Feena’s eyes, bright with determination.

“On your feet, soldier! We’re catching her—now!”

With swift precision, Feena produced her morpher, raising it high above her head as it hummed with power.

“Frame Unit, Awaken!”

In an instant, she transformed, armor blooming across her body in a flash of pink and white. Her TSUN Armor gleamed under the sky, and her massive hands reached out—giant and steady.

I grabbed hold, resting against the cold metal, heart hammering. The omnidirectional thrusters on her armor roared to life, blasting us upward with a thunderous roar as we surged toward Myrrh’s spiraling descent.

Above us, Myrrh’s Frame Unit was unraveling—metal plates twisting and tearing off like a dying flower losing petals to a cruel wind. The shoulders snapped free first, followed by her limbs, and finally her head, spinning away like shattered debris.

“Myrrh!” I shouted again, voice breaking, but the only answer was the whistle of the wind and silence.

Only the chest core of her Frame Unit remained now—a glowing orb of light that soon fractured into a shower of cybernetic dust, sparkling like scattered stars as it dissolved into the air. And then, all that was left was Myrrh herself, tumbling downward, headfirst, trailing shimmering contrails of glowing particles that faded like the last embers of a firefly’s glow. Her eyes were closed, her body limp—unconscious and fragile in the vast sky.

With a powerful burst of thrusters, Agent Feena soared upward, intercepting her descent with flawless timing. I spread my arms wide just in time, and caught Myrrh as gently as if she were a delicate falling fairy drifting on a summer breeze. The impact was unexpectedly light, a weightless grace that whispered of Feena’s precise maneuvers easing the fall.

“Myrrh!” I called out, pulling her close to my chest, heart pounding.

Then, slowly, she wrapped her arms around me in return. She was alive. Conscious.

I tilted my head down to meet her face, searching for a sign that she was truly awake.

Her eyes fluttered open—deep blue gems sparkling like precious jewels scattered across the night sky. A soft blush spread across her cheeks as she smiled, and in that suspended moment, I realized our noses were barely two centimeters apart.

“You really had me worried there,” I said with a teasing scoff, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

Myrrh’s confident smile never wavered. “I knew you’d save me in time. It was a calculated risk.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Calculated, maybe—but man, you’re terrible at advanced calculus.”

She giggled softly, like a princess amused by a joke only she fully understood. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she gently booped my nose.

“I always count on you to save me.”

I smirked, feeling the warmth of the moment settle between us. “Well, that means you owe me three more dates.”

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as she pouted, then flicked my forehead playfully.

“Ouch!”

“Way to ruin the moment, you goon.”