"Huh?" Sing? Me? No way.
"Our lead singer and guitarist," Nijika explained, her hands still pressed together. Her voice rose a little, tinged with a familiar panic. "She got a sudden case of stage fright. Just… ran off."
Nijika waved a hand toward the empty stage. "She was supposed to be here. Now we have this huge hole in the set list."
"A rather dramatic exit, even for her," Ryo commented, her voice flat. She plucked a single, low note on her bass, the sound echoing in the small room.
"Ryo!" Nijika snapped, her vermilion eyes flashing. "Don't be like that! This is serious!"
Ryo just shrugged, a slight twitch at the corner of her lips. She didn't offer any more words.
Nijika turned back to Takuya, her expression pleading. "We just want to put on a decent show. Not some boring instrumental."
Takuya looked from Nijika's worried face to Ryo's indifferent one. They really are desperate.
"But I can't sing," Takuya said. Not really. Not like a performer. "And I definitely don't play guitar."
Nijika brushed his concerns aside with a quick wave of her hand. "The guitar is not a problem. Ryo can handle the rhythm parts, and the songs aren't too complicated."
She took another step closer, her vermilion eyes wide and earnest. "You just need to sing the lyrics, Takuya-kun. Please."
"Just this once," Takuya mumbled, the words tasting strange on his tongue.
A wide, relieved smile bloomed on Nijika's face, chasing away the tension. "Yes! Thank you, Takuya-kun!" She grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the door. "Come on, let's get you ready!"
The studio space was small, soundproofed, and smelled faintly of old carpet and new guitar strings. Nijika practically shoved a sheet of paper into his hands. "Here are the lyrics. It's a pretty well-known rock song."
Takuya glanced at the words, his stomach tightening. Singing in front of people. This is way worse than Ninders.
Nijika clapped her hands together. "Alright, Ryo, let's start from the top!"
Ryo nodded, adjusting her bass. A slow, steady rhythm began. Bum-bum-BUM. The drums joined in, Nijika hitting the cymbals with surprising force. The sound filled the room, making his chest vibrate.
* * *
The final notes faded, leaving Takuya with a ringing in his ears and a strange mix of relief and exhaustion.
It was over. Thank the stars.
His voice had been… adequate. Not great, but not a total train wreck either. The small crowd, mostly Nijika's friends from school, had clapped politely. A couple of whistles, nothing wild. It wasn't a triumph, but it wasn't a disaster.
The whole performance felt like a blur now, a strange dream he'd woken up from. He walked out into the main area of STARRY. The place still had a low hum of energy, but the bright stage lights were off, replaced by the usual dim, moody glow. Posters for forgotten bands covered the walls.
He spotted Nijika and Ryo at a small, round table near the bar. Nijika was laughing, bright vermilion eyes sparkling, while Ryo sat with her usual cool, detached expression, nursing a drink. They were talking about the show, probably dissecting every little thing.
Nijika's face lit up when she saw him. "Takkun! You were incredible!"
She practically bounced in her seat. "Thank you so much for saving us! I owe you big time! I'll treat you to anything you want, okay?"
Ryo took a slow sip of her drink, yellow eyes half-lidded.
"It was adequate," Ryo said, her voice flat. "For someone with zero talent, I mean. You didn't make us sound completely awful."
Nijika elbowed her. "Ryo!"
Despite Ryo's words, Takuya felt a strange warmth spread through him. He knew Ryo rarely complimented anyone. It felt good to be appreciated, even with the usual teasing.
"You were good for a beginner, Takkun," Nijika said, a wide grin on her face. "Definitely better than I thought you'd be."
She leaned forward, her vermilion eyes sparkling with an idea. "Hey, there's this new café that opened up near the station. They have really good desserts. We should go sometime this week, just us."
A café? Dessert? That sounded nice, actually. He hadn't done anything normal like that in a while.
"Or," Ryo cut in, her voice flat, "there's an art exhibit that just opened. Very abstract. You'd probably find it more... intellectually stimulating." She paused, then added, "You could also help me scout for vintage bass equipment. It's important research."
Nijika's smile tightened a little. "Research? Or just an excuse to wander around looking at expensive things you can't afford?"
"It's about the aesthetic," Ryo said, completely unfazed. "The soul of the instrument."
Takuya nodded to Nijika. Then he nodded to Ryo. "Sounds good."
Takuya glanced at his watch. It's getting late. He should probably head home. His mother would worry if he stayed out too long.
"I need to get going," he said.
Nijika nodded, her bright eyes still full of energy. "Thanks again, Takkun! Really, you saved us."
"Yeah," Ryo added, a slight tilt to her head. "Don't trip on your way out."
Takuya offered a small, tired smile. He said his goodbyes to Seika, who just gave a curt nod, and PA-san, who offered a quiet wave from the sound booth. Walking out of STARRY, the cool night air hit him. It was a refreshing change from the warm, close air inside.
* * *
Amazoness watched the Professor with a calculating gaze.
Another toy for his collection.
The containment unit hummed, its shimmers catching the dim light of the command center. He always did enjoy his dramatics. Her crimson eyes narrowed, a cold pride in her master's work filling her.
He created the BEMs to be perfect. Machine BEMs were the core of the Iron Cross Army, a testament to Professor Monster's genius. They were cybernetic horrors, built from stolen alien tech, or more often, converted from unfortunate organic beings.
The Ninders were mere foot soldiers, expendable drones. But this one, this Silvermane, was different. He was a prototype, a true Machine BEM, built from the ground up, not just a repurposed shell.
The containment unit retracted with a soft shhhhk.
Silvermane stood before them, a hulking figure of polished silver chrome and dark, intricate conduits. His posture was rigid, almost regal. His helmet-like head was smooth, faceless, yet somehow conveyed an unnatural presence.
From his broad shoulders flowed a metallic mane of razor-sharp energy tendrils, crackling with faint plasma. A prominent black Iron Cross emblem was etched into his chest, a mark of ownership.
Amazoness felt a rare flicker of admiration. He was magnificent, a testament to Professor Monster's vision. She brought her metallic hands together, the sound a crisp clack.
The Ninders around her followed, their synchronized applause a flat, programmed thunk-thunk-thunk.
Silvermane's red visor eyes glowed, sweeping across the chamber, assessing everything. His voice, deep and resonant, echoed with a metallic timbre, a chilling pronouncement of purpose.
"I am Silvermane."
He looked at Professor Monster, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
"I am the Professor's instrument, forged for conquest."
Professor Monster's gaze settled on his new creation, a grim satisfaction on his face. "With Silvermane's power, the defeat of Spider-Man is now assured." His voice, usually cold, held a hint of triumph.
Amazoness felt a surge of professional jealousy. Spider-Man was her target. She kept her expression neutral, her thoughts a coiled whip.
"Amazoness." The Professor's voice cut through her thoughts.
She snapped to attention. "Yes, Professor?"
"You will acquire more materials for my experiments. My army requires organic components, a fresh supply for conversion."
Her predatory smirk returned. Excellent. A new hunt. The process of turning weak humans into obedient Machine BEMs was always so gratifying.
"It shall be done," she replied, her voice smooth.
"Silvermane will accompany you," Professor Monster declared.
Silvermane responded with a stiff, almost regal, nod. His red eyes fixed on Amazoness, a silent challenge in their glow. Amazoness met his gaze, her smirk widening. This would be… interesting.
***
Advance Chapters on patreon.com/Najicablitz.
Give Powerstone to support this novel. This tells me you like it.