Chapter 448: Waiting Room

The waiting room of Mecha Warfare Online in this place was a strange in-between space.

A hangar-like void floored in dark grid, two opposing pillars of light marking each player’s position. Above their heads was a translucent spectator window. It was only seen by their unseen friends who could watch and chat.

When Neville materialized, the first thing he saw was Lilianna’s mecha. Or rather, he saw the thing squatting opposite him.

His immediate honest reaction was a sort of stunned pity.

It was huge.

The mecha had a heavy assault frame, just like her unseen friends predicted. By the look of it, it was a Bastion class. However, it was customized within an inch of its life.

There were twin great wings folded at its back, plates hinged. Neville had seen those, and those weren’t just wing thrusters but rather cannon barrels that doubled as wing thrusters.

There was also a cluster of missile pods bristling along the shoulders as a porcupine’s quills, with a monstrous greatsword hung at its hip.

It was so large that Neville wondered if it was as huge as a small starship.

There were also two beam launchers mounted on the forearms. Auxiliary projectile turrets attached to the kneecaps.

It looked less like a mecha and more like a small armory had grown legs to walk independently.

Lilianna’s avatar shimmered into view at the foot of the giant — PrettiestLily.

It had gold hair drawn into a high battle-knot, with gold mischievous eyes. She gave a low whistle that came through the comm crystal-clear.

"Aww, Neville," she crooned. "Did you bring a toothpick to a duel?"

Click.

A holographic spotlight suddenly flicked on over Neville’s mecha, bathing the lean charcoal frame in unflattering light.

"Look at this thing! It’s basically a stick figure! Are you sure, sweetheart? Honestly, I won’t be offended if you back out now. "

Neville pushed his glasses up out of habit, even though the cockpit interface didn’t have glasses. "I’m sure."

"You’re sure. Mm-hm. I just want to make it clear, I gave you an out."

She gestured grandly at her own behemoth, the gesture making the missile pods clack like proud teeth.

"This, this is what we call a winning loadout. Anti-air, anti-ground, anti-everything. You know what they teach us in the Academy? Maximum firepower deters maximum stupidity."

"Is that a real saying?" Neville furrowed his eyebrows, skeptical.

Because if it was true, they had to reform the academy quickly before more stupid students like Lilianna graduate and join the military.

"It is now," Lilianna said with a smirk.

Neville almost sighed in relief when he learned that it wasn’t true. He looked at the heavy frame again, slowly.

It really looks too heavy.

The thrusters were undersized for the mass. The cannon-wings would gulp energy at a frightening rate.

The greatsword looked like it was chosen as a vanity piece rather than for strength. It was clearly useless against a mecha that didn’t sit still.

There was also almost no melee redundancy. Every weapon was meant to project outward, blast a target at range, and finish before the target could close.

Neville was sure that even Grayson wouldn’t have piloted this.

Based on Noir, Grayson’s mecha, Grayson would very much prefer to build a lean and quick mecha.

It was a balance of mid-range firepower and brutal close-quarters efficiency. The weight would be kept low so his reflexes would still be quick to react.

But Neville did not say any of that. He didn’t say it because Lilianna was a veteran with a long experience in piloting mecha, especially on the front lines.

If he, a practically newbie pilot, were pointing out how off her customization looked, it would be the kind of insult that could not be apologized for in two lifetimes.

So Neville just said: "Mm. It’s very impressive."

Thinking it wasn’t enough, he repeated again.

"It’s very impressive, Miss Lilianna."

Looking at Lilianna’s expression, Neville thought it wasn’t enough and added.

"Really impressive."

Suddenly, Lilianna’s eyes narrowed. "...Are you mocking me?"

"What? No—"

"You are. You’re secretly mocking me, aren’t you? Do you think I’m dumb?" She crossed her arms.

I don’t, but I’m sure you know how stupid it is to make this kind of mecha. Neville retorted in his head.

But he still said out loud, "I’m not saying it’s hid—"

Lilianna stomped her feet, ready to fight him avatar to avatar, "OH, so it’s hideous now."

Neville panicked and quickly explained, "That’s not what I—"

Then, above their heads, the holographic display rolled out the loading bar for Round 1, mercifully cutting him off.

[MAP RANDOMIZING...]

Lights swirled, and the grid floor began to dissolve in liquid pixels.

"I’m not mocking you," Neville said, hurriedly, before the transfer pulled him in. "I just— I’m a slow talker, alright? You’re— it’s a lot to look at. I needed a moment."

"Hmph." Lilianna snorted. "Save your shit for later."

The transfer wave caught him.

Whuump.

The cockpit pressed in around him in a single seamless motion. The pilot’s harness was biting at his shoulders, and the neural feedback gloves were snapping live. The heads-up display unfurled in a long arc across his field of vision in cool blue.

The Reaper’s frame felt like a second skin — taut, light, every joint reading back its own resistance through faint sensory feedback in his fingers and feet.

He had been forced to play manual tonight. So, he couldn’t use the neural sync tube. Without Shelly’s presence in his head, the auto-translation between intent and action was clipped.

His mecha did exactly what his hands did, no more, no less. Less efficient and significantly more tiring.

Neville’s hands curled around the dual-grip yoke. The HUD finished its boot-up.

[ROUND 1 / MAP: ENDLESS SEA]

[LOADING...]

The world poured into being.

It was blue everywhere.

Pale aquamarine above, deepening into cobalt, then nothing. It was an open atmosphere stretching into infinite cloudless heaven.

Below, an endless mirror of gray-green ocean, white-capped and restless, rolling out to a horizon that went on and on and on.

There was no island, no buoy, and not even small rocks anywhere. It was just water, sky, and the wind that moaned past his external mics with a mournful, low ooooooo.

Endless Sea.

Neville’s breath caught. A grin he didn’t bother to suppress crept across his face inside the cockpit.

Lucky.