Chapter 19: My Eyes! I'm Going Blind!
The crystal-clear water of the swimming pool rippled gently, catching the artificial sunlight radiating from the ceiling overhead. Pristine lounge chairs lined the tiled deck, complete with little parasols and a fully stocked juice bar.
March 7th stared at the tranquil oasis, her pink eyes wide with utter bewilderment. "Isn't this a bit... too luxurious?" she muttered, her gaze drifting across the extravagant setup. "Why on earth is there a resort-style swimming pool on a literal warship?"
"Relax," Rekka said smoothly, leaning back against a railing with the casual ease of a man who owned the place.
"I'm starting to get a little suspicious," March 7th narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him from head to toe. "Whenever you say 'relaxation,' it usually ends up being anything but normal."
Could it be...
Her gaze grew increasingly wary, treating Rekka like a walking hazard.
"Don't look at me with that expression," Rekka sighed, crossing his arms. "Do I look like the kind of person who would force their subordinates to go out into a life-or-death battle wearing swimsuits?"
"You literally just said it yourself, hey!" March 7th threw her hands up in exasperation. "So why on earth would you make your subordinates fight in swimsuits?!"
"If there are new skins, why not use them?" Rekka replied, his tone entirely self-righteous.
"New... skins?" March 7th's jaw dropped. She stared at him in sheer disbelief.
"You see, this is exactly where you show your amateur status." Rekka waved a hand dismissively, adopting the sagely aura of a seasoned battlefield veteran. "The tactical benefits of swimwear are practically endless. It's incredibly light and flexible. It massively reduces aerodynamic drag. And, most crucially, in critical moments, you can use the sheer absurdity of the swimwear to completely confuse the enemy and distract your opponent."
"Is that what you call a proper battle?!" March 7th shrieked.
"Of course it's proper," Rekka nodded solemnly. "The absolute first rule of the Hyperion is this: You can lose the battle, but you can never, ever lose your style."
"What kind of twisted logic is that?!" March huffed, planting her hands firmly on her hips. "Don't the Valkyries have any objections to this madness?"
"What Valkyries?" Rekka scratched the back of his head, looking genuinely puzzled.
"Eh?" It was March 7th's turn to short-circuit. She blinked, her anger deflating into pure confusion. "What do you mean? Didn't you just say your subordinates were Valkyries?"
"My subordinates aren't just Valkyries." Rekka looked at her with an expression that clearly said she lacked imagination.
"Then what else is there?" March 7th blinked again, completely unaware that she was walking right into a trap.
Rekka didn't bother answering with words. He simply raised a hand, pointing a finger toward the massive blast doors on the far side of the energy center. A faint, mischievous glint danced in his eyes.
"Want to see?"
March 7th hesitated, her curiosity warring with her survival instincts. "...I actually do want to see."
"Follow me."
March 7th, Dan Heng, and Himeko trailed behind Rekka, bracing themselves to broaden their horizons. If it wasn't the Valkyries wearing the tactical swimsuits... then who—or what—was it?
Rekka led the Astral Express crew up a spiraling metal staircase, bringing them to a fortified observation deck suspended high above the Hyperion's main armory. Through the thick, reinforced glass, the sprawling hangar below was fully visible. Resting in the massive maintenance bays were two colossal, impressive mechanical titans: Arahato and Thunderbolt.
Rekka leaned over the control console and tapped a comms button. "Ai-chan, deploy the swimsuit."
"Received, Captain!" the AI's cheerful voice chimed through the speakers.
March 7th's brain stalled. Change into a swimsuit? Was he making the ship's AI do it?
But it wasn't Ai-chan who put on the swimsuit.
It was Thunderbolt.
In that exact second, March 7th's entire worldview shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
Down in the hangar, the gargantuan, sleek, and terrifyingly powerful white mecha was suddenly enveloped in a flash of hard-light projection. When the light faded, the towering engine of destruction was quietly standing in the armory... wearing a massive, perfectly fitted white bikini.
The sheer visual dissonance of the image burned itself permanently into her retinas.
"Gah! My eyes! My eyes! I'm going blind!"
March 7th clapped both hands over her face, dropping to the metal floor and literally rolling around in absolute agony.
Beside her, the corners of Himeko and Dan Heng's mouths twitched violently. Himeko held out for exactly three seconds before she completely lost her composure, bursting into a fit of elegant, ringing laughter. Dan Heng immediately turned his head away, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably as he fought a losing battle against his own stoicism.
"My eyes! Make it stop! Rekka, you pervert! You're a massive pervert!" March 7th wailed from the floor.
"How am I a pervert?" Rekka spread his hands, his face the very picture of wounded innocence. "You are the one who explicitly stated you wanted to see. I graciously brought you here to look, and now you're cursing at me? Where is the justice?"
"Is this what you thought I meant by wanting to see?!" March 7th yelled, peeking through her fingers.
"Then what did you mean?"
"You made a giant combat mecha wear a swimsuit!"
"Thunderbolt is my subordinate," Rekka stated, his tone entirely matter-of-fact. "What is wrong with my subordinate wearing a swimsuit? Did we not just establish that a swimsuit is a new skin?"
"Is that what you call a skin?! That is a bikini on a hunk of metal!"
"Why doesn't a swimsuit count as a skin? Swimwear is a perfectly valid type of clothing."
"But it's wearing a women's swimsuit!!!"
"How can you be so sure that Thunderbolt isn't female?"
Rekka stared at March 7th, his expression perfectly conveying a silent accusation: Are you actually discriminating against mecha gender right now?
"Huh?" March 7th stopped rolling, staring up at him in pure bafflement. "This thing has a gender? It's made of solid iron and titanium! How can a giant hunk of metal have a gender!"
"Why can't a hunk of metal have a gender? Ai-chan is literally just a stream of digital data, and isn't she a beautiful girl?" Rekka retorted with absolute conviction, slapping his hand against the observation railing for emphasis. "Just look down there! Look at that simplified armor plating, those elegant thruster wings, those incredibly powerful, long legs—tell me, where does she not look like a beautiful maiden?"
March 7th slowly lowered her hands, her gaze drifting back down to the hangar.
They were, admittedly, very long legs.
Tens of meters of long, heavily armored, hydraulic-powered legs, to be exact.
"What kind of normal human being stares at tens of meters of steel plating and thinks about legs?!" March 7th shrieked, scrambling back to her feet. "And where did you even get that much fabric?! How does a swimsuit stretch that big?!"
"It is a highly advanced, specialized nanomaterial, obviously." Rekka adjusted the captain's cap on his head, his voice practically dripping with pride. "Not only is it completely waterproof and dustproof, but it can also withstand high-intensity plasma impacts and orbital strikes."
"What exactly are you so proud of right now..." March 7th groaned, massaging her temples.
Ignoring her distress, Rekka tapped another sequence on the console, activating Thunderbolt's unmanned autonomous mode.
"Look," Rekka pointed downward. "She can even be shy."
"..."
March 7th's jaw unhinged. Down in the bay, the terrifying, heavily armed humanoid weapon of mass destruction suddenly shifted its weight. The colossal mecha brought its massive metal hands up to its faceplates, knocking its giant knees together and tilting its head in a textbook, exaggeratedly ladylike pose of bashfulness.
"Pfft—"
Himeko completely lost the battle this time, clutching her stomach as bright, hearty laughter echoed through the observation room.
Dan Heng had completely turned his back to the glass, his shoulders vibrating so violently it looked like he was having a seizure. He pressed a hand over his mouth, refusing to let a single sound escape, though his composure was entirely shattered.
"Shy? You call that shy?!" March 7th pointed a trembling finger at the giant, blushing war machine, her voice cracking up an entire octave. "You call that shy?!"
"What else would you call it?" Rekka tilted his head, looking at her with genuine curiosity. "Have you ever seen any other combat mecha execute this specific range of motion?"
March 7th opened her mouth to scream a rebuttal, but the words died in her throat. She was entirely speechless.
"See?" Rekka gestured grandly at the hangar. "That is the very definition of being shy."
"The point is—the point is—" March 7th stammered, her face turning a brilliant shade of tomato red as her brain completely short-circuited. She realized, with mounting horror, that she literally could not articulate what the point was anymore.
A giant mecha wearing a bikini was fundamentally absurd. Yet, Rekka had delivered his explanation with such unshakeable confidence and matter-of-fact logic that it almost felt like she was the crazy one for questioning it. Swimwear was technically a type of clothing. Advanced AI could technically possess gender recognition. The arguments were incredibly twisted, but they weren't entirely devoid of internal logic.
"Actually, it is quite fascinating." Himeko finally managed to catch her breath, elegantly wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of her eye. "I must admit, I never in my wildest dreams thought I would witness a scene quite like this."
"Himeko, why are you taking his side?!" March 7th whined, looking betrayed.
"March, think about it for a moment," Himeko smiled warmly, her amber eyes reflecting the hangar lights. "Look at it from another perspective. This magnificent warship, these incredibly advanced mechas... they are all Rekka's creations and secrets. The fact that he is willing to show them to us in such a ridiculous, unguarded way proves that he genuinely trusts us."
March 7th froze, the frustration draining out of her as Himeko's words sank in. She blinked, looking from the giant shy mecha to Rekka's smug face. "So, you mean..."
"I mean," Himeko walked over and gently patted the younger girl's shoulder, "just treat it as a bit of lighthearted entertainment. Try not to take it too seriously."
"Himeko, your mind is way too open!" March 7th groaned, though a small, defeated smile tugged at her lips.
Dan Heng finally managed to steady his breathing. He turned around, his face a perfectly blank mask of stoicism—though his eyes still betrayed a hint of lingering trauma. He looked directly at Rekka. "Do you actually intend to let this machine stay dressed like that?"
"Of course not," Rekka shook his head, looking almost offended by the suggestion. "I was merely demonstrating the functionality of the hard-light nanomaterial. Ai-chan, revert Thunderbolt back to standard combat livery."
"Received, Captain~!" Ai-chan chirped through the comms.
Down in the armory, the blinding white light flashed twice. The massive bikini instantly dissolved into digital particles, and Thunderbolt was restored to its original, impressive glory. The heavy, wing-like armor plating on its back and broad shoulders unfolded with a heavy, satisfying mechanical clunk. Its sleek, powerful lines gleamed with a cold, deadly luster under the industrial hangar lights.
"Whew..." March 7th let out a long, exaggerated sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping as the tension finally left her body. "Now that is what a proper mecha is supposed to look like."
"So you are saying you think the previous look wasn't good?" Rekka asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course it wasn't good!"
"What a shame. It seems your aesthetic sense is in desperate need of improvement," Rekka sighed, shaking his head with deep regret.
"My aesthetic sense is perfectly fine!" March 7th yelled, her voice echoing through the observation deck. "Yours is the one that's completely broken!"
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