Chapter 569: Asuka Feeling Bored
The sky of the Death World was forever frozen in an unlively, grayish-yellow hue. The thin atmosphere caused the light from the star to appear exceptionally harsh, yet it failed to bring adequate warmth. Whenever night descended, the freezing chill would permeate every single corner of the base; even within the climate-controlled interiors, one could still feel the icy hostility emanating from the planet itself. The never-ending gale whipped up fine metallic slag, continuously battering the base's outer composite armor plates and emitting a monotonous, maddening rustle.
Asuka, clad in a well-fitting standard base protective suit, walked alone through the sealed corridor bridging the hangar and the residential sector. Through the high-strength observation windows, the view outside was completely unvarying: a dark, rocky landscape, randomly scattered jagged stone hills, and in the distance, that Genesis Experimental Zone that was slowly yet firmly shedding its final few streaks of green to return to desolation. Ever since Ryo shifted the core research of the Genesis Particles away, this land that had briefly flourished with vitality was irreversibly returning to dead silence.
Within the residential sector of the base, life-support provisions were impeccable—temperature, humidity, and air quality were all maintained at peak levels. However, the omnipresent, cold sense of order characteristic of the Adeptus Mechanicus's supreme efficiency principles frequently left her feeling an mismatched estrangement. Wherever her gaze landed, there were featureless metallic bulkheads, continuously flashing data-stream screens, and the Tech-Priests and lumbering servitors who had almost all undergone extensive bodily modification, silently executing directives. There was a lack of color here, a lack of unexpected sounds, and a lack of anything she remembered that could be called the "breath of life."
"Haa... this is truly so monotonous that it doesn't give me any energy." Asuka let out a sigh, her forehead gently leaning against the chilly observation window. The built-in communication channel within the protective suit was terrifyingly quiet during non-mission hours. If not for the daily, unmovable simulated combat training, the study of the EVA-Titan's maintenance knowledge, and those actual machine activation tests that allowed her to truly feel her own value, she suspected she might be driven sick by this ultimate, stimulus-lacking environment.
The hangar housing that massive, silent dark-gray colossus belonging to her had practically become the only corner in this desolate world where she could feel at ease—the sole remaining, tangible bond between her and the past, as well as the meaning of her standing in this location. However, every single time she concluded her "communion" with the EVA-Titan and returned to that standardized cabin—which was fully equipped yet completely devoid of personal traces—an un-describable sense of emptiness would always quietly surface.
She knew very well that even if granted another hundred opportunities to choose, she would still choose without a shred of hesitation to follow Ryo away from that old world filled with agony and despair. It was just that she had never anticipated this "new world" would be so quiet and lacking in change.
Amidst this monotonous daily routine, the sporadic interactions with Ryo became a rare adjustment. In the base's highly efficient and cold cafeteria, the food was precisely synthesized by the matter replication system, nutritionally balanced yet standard in taste. Asuka usually sat alone in a corner to dine quickly. Sometimes, Ryo would appear opposite her. He would still be clad in that heavy power armor, but he would usually disengage the helmet locks, exposing a face that was no different from his main body yet carried more warmth.
"I've looked over the training data; the reaction time has improved, but the tactical choices could be even more aggressive," he would review a data slate while commenting in a calm tone.
"Noisy! Being conservative in that kind of scenario is the correct approach, right?" Asuka would immediately fire back, though no true anger lingered in her gaze. Ryo would not argue with her, merely highlighting a certain parameter in red on the data slate and pushing it before her.
"Try this pathway; it might suit your style better." Then, he would silently accompany her to finish the meal, though he himself usually only ingested specialized nutrient paste. This silent companionship, to an extent, broke the monotony of the cafeteria which held nothing but the operational hums of the servitors.
On the training grounds, besides the simulation capsule training of the EVA-Titan, physical conditioning and close-quarters combat training were also mandatory courses. While Asuka was sweating profusely countering the intricately programmed training servitors, Ryo would sometimes personally take the field to guide her. Even without wearing his power armor, he remained an insurmountable, powerful presence to Asuka, though Ryo would mostly deploy passive defenses and refrain from launching active offensives.
"Your center of gravity is too low! Your advantage lies in agility and explosive power, not head-on clashes!" While pointing out Asuka's deficiencies, he easily parried one of her full-force side kicks.
"Stop ordering me around!" Asuka refused to yield verbally, yet she would subconsciously adjust her power deployment method in the next attack. She could feel that Ryo's guidance was far from mechanical textbook recitation; he was truly observing her traits to conduct targeted adjustments. After training concluded, he would sometimes hand her a bottle of energy supplement—a simple gesture that left her feeling that amidst this cold metallic world, there still existed a trace of "human" concern.
One evening, after finishing her training, Asuka encountered Ryo standing before the windows in the corridor once more. He wasn't wearing his power armor, clad only in a simple fatigue suit, his gaze cast toward the wilderness gradually being swallowed by the night sky.
"Still feeling that it's very boring here?" He did not turn his head, his voice peaceful.
Asuka walked beside him, mimicking his posture by resting her hands upon the railing. "At least it's better than that original world." She paused, "It's just... sometimes it feels like I've been forgotten in some corner."
Ryo turned his head, casting a glance at her. The base lighting cast faint shadows upon his face. "This universe is very vast; it doesn't consist of only this single planet." His words were brief, yet they caused Asuka's heart to twitch slightly. These scattered interactions were like faint bright patches occasionally surfacing upon a gray canvas—though unable to completely dispel the monotony enveloping her, they at least allowed her to feel that she wasn't completely drifting alone in this ocean of metal and rock.
After watching Asuka leave the corridor, Ryo turned and walked toward the observation tower. Standing at the high vantage point, his gaze subconsciously traced that petite silhouette once more, watching her walk alone within the transit corridor leading to the residential sector, appearing exceptionally solitary. His mind recalled the scene when he brought Asuka away from the EVA world—that girl curled up in the corner weeping overlapped with the落寞 silhouette moving away right now.
A sense of responsibility originating from his own emotions, rather than logical computation, arose fiercely. Taking her away from hell did not mean that plunging her into a cold cage was the correct approach.
Almost at the exact same moment, a consciousness link connected with his main body far away on Necromunda.
"Asuka's mood continues to languish; the environment of the Death World has a significant negative impact on her," the second avatar transmitted the direct sensations and observations.