The Mech Touch

Chapter 6280  Defying the Fog.

Awareness came back slowly.

Gray mist spread in every direction.

No noticeable features could be seen.

An indeterminate amount of time seemed to pass.

At one point, a new presence started to emerge.

Some of the gray mist parted as a humanoid figure came into form.

That figure was a man who wore a filigreed red-and-white uniform.

Any human in the Red Ocean was able to identify this iconic man.

He was Professor Ves Larkinson, the most innovative and successful Senior Mech Designer of the new frontier.

A grave and solemn expression appeared on the man's face. The strong sense of insubstantiality and disassociation made it difficult to get a clear look at the famous mech designer.

When the man opened his mouth, no sound seemed to propagate.

The man did not give up and repeated his words.

"...on…mon…Imon…me Imon…er me Imon…Can you hear me Imon?"

At one point, another insubstantial figure became increasingly driven by instinct to offer a response.

"I… hear… your… call…"

It was incredible for Imon, for now he finally recalled his own identity, to issue a simple response.

It was as if he had to lift up several times his own body weight just to say a single word!

What happened to him? Why did he become so incredibly weak? What was this mist-filled place?

A sympathetic expression appeared on the mech designer's face.

"Imon… do you remember… what happened to you during your last battle?"

Nothing but fog filled Imon's mind.

"Duqaste XI… L'Koi, the Faceless Warrior… the Saint Piercer… purged his raiment… Blade Chaser Mark II got impaled from the back… no chance for your body to survive…"

As Ves patiently summarized the sequence of Venerable Imon's last battle, the high-tier expert pilot finally remembered what had befallen him at the end.

He died!

He should have felt shocked at this result.

He should have felt indignant for dying far too soon.

He should have felt unwilling to leave his sister bereft of his existence.

Yet… in his weak and foggy mindset, he only felt tired.

His time had come, no matter whether he accepted it or not. Death came to everyone. Nobody could refuse its call.

Every part of his insubstantial existence accepted the unmistakable fact that he had died.

He no longer belonged among the living anymore.

He should make peace with this fact and embrace his next destination, whatever that may be. Imon was a secularist, so he never really thought hard about whether there was a definable afterlife. In his current soul-weary condition, he was ready for anything.

Yet there was a certain presence in this strange environment that did not want to see Imon depart from his current life and reality.

"IMON! Wake up, you dolt! Don't go! You may be dead, but that does not mean you have to disappear! There are more possibilities than moving on! I have seen people and beasts figure out a way to live after death before. So long as you are strong enough, you can force yourself to persist in our current realm!"

That sounded way too esoteric for Imon, especially now when his mentality was degrading by the second.

He was dead.

Parts of him were already crumbling away.

Soon, there would be nothing left to hold any conscious thoughts.

Why wasn't he moving on already? Why must this phase be prolonged?

He was so tired…

"You dummy… you don't have to die! You can still live! Don't you want to find a way to stay in the realm of the living and make up for all of your past regrets?!"

The words of the mech designer sounded so distant to Imon. Every fiber of his crumbling being had been infected by the force of death. He was no longer alive. Why must he continue to listen to the prattle of a person that he would never have to see again?

Nothing seemed to matter anymore to Imon. From the moment his body broke apart, his stay in the current realm had come to an end. He needed to go. He did not belong here anymore. The longer he stayed, the more he violated a fundamental rule that he never learned about, but instinctively knew.

Bad stuff would happen to those who defied the fate of death. Imon did not understand why this was the case or where he learned about it, but it seemed incredibly obvious now that he became afflicted by death.

"I… cannot…."

"Goddammit Imon! If you want to live for yourself, then you should at least live for your sister! Casella Ingvar will be devastated if you leave her forever! Do you remember her? She's your closest relative! She is the only member of the fallen House of Ingvar who stuck with you thick and thin. Do not allow death to deprive you of your memories of the sister you love the most!"

The words initially sank into Imon's mind like fog, but the more Ves talked about how much he cared about his sister, the more his vague and insubstantial memories evoked emotions that jolted strong emotions from another part of himself.

Love, affection, yearning. All of these emotions and more seemed to push away the fog and slow down his rate of decay.

Forgotten memories that the fog tried so hard to obscure from his awareness gradually returned within his reach.

The spark of intelligence began to light up in his eyes. Imon slowly began to regain a semblance of his old awareness!

"I…. remember. I… am Imon Ingvar. I have a sister… Casella Ingvar. Together, we fight for the Larkinson Clan… I died in the field of battle… My life…. Is over…"

"It is not over." Ves corrected the dead expert pilot. "I have been trying to tell you multiple times that dying is not necessarily the end for all organisms. There are special circumstances that can allow you to persist after death. You may even be able to return to life again. I promise you with all my heart that I have personally witnessed at least one feat of true resurrection. The dead can come alive again. It is difficult, but it is possible. So long as you manage to retain a semblance of existence in our current realm, you still have a chance."

Coming back to life should have appealed to Imon a lot stronger than he currently felt.

Unfortunately, the fog still persisted inside himself. It seemed to grow stronger and started to assail him more aggressively.

Death was highly possessive of the deceased! It did not tolerate any interference in its sacred and inviolable duty!

"..."

Ves' expression grew a little more urgent as he recognized that the clock was ticking.

"IMON! Do not zone out on me! I don't care if you are tired or whatever, but there are still people who need you in the realm of the living! Think about your sister! Casella Ingvar needs you! She would do anything to have you within her reach! Do you want to make her sad by passing on without giving her the courtesy of a final farewell? Wake up, Imon! Remember who you were originally fighting for! Where is the expert pilot who vowed to dedicate all of his life to his sister?!"

The expert pilot… remembered this solemn vow.

Yet… what did it matter?

He was dead?

All promises, vows, oaths and contracts became invalid from that point.

Or at least that was supposed to be the case.

The affairs of the living should be confined to their own group.

The dead belonged elsewhere. They should have no lingering attachments to anything related to the realm of the living.

Imon instinctively understood these rules, but… the more he thought about his sister, the more he recalled his dedication towards his closest blood relative.

He… did not want to make her sad.

He knew that she would become sad if he died and disappeared.

He would rather make her happy.

Yet… how could he do so when his soul had already been claimed by death?

"I… do not want to die, but… I cannot defy my fate. My sister… will have to manage with me…" Imon slowly said as the fog started to return with a vengeance!

Seeing that time was starting to run out, Ves sped up his words.

"Imon… there is still a chance! It is true that you are not strong enough to anchor yourself to the realm of the living, but I am different! I have a… special relic… that bestows me the power for you to persist even if you are dead! You will have to sign a contract with me and undergo a radical transformation… but it is not impossible for you to meet with Casella and continue to protect her in your new state!"

The deceased expert pilot should have felt a lot more receptive towards these words, but he struggled to understand and care about the claims made by the mech designer.

"How…?"

Ves held out a hand. That hand seemed to glow with a completely different power than the death that tried to enforce its claim on Imon's soul.

"I cannot lie to you, Imon. The opportunity that I am giving you cannot bring you back to a true state of life. At least not immediately. However, there are always chances to make everything right as long as at least a semblance of you is retained. I am giving you this chance. To do so, you must agree to become my Chosen Envoy. You must wholeheartedly agree to surrender your permanent and undying loyalty to me, Ves Larkinson. In exchange, you shall enter my special court, gain power as my Chosen Envoy and gain opportunities to speak to your sister once again."

Imon frowned. From the moment Ves mentioned the phrase 'Chosen Envoy', a lot of meanings and associations got stuffed into his awareness. He somehow knew that everything Ves had mentioned was true… and a bit more that he had not mentioned.

One fact remained extremely clear, though.

Not everything about his old self would be retained.

To become a Chosen Envoy was to literally dedicate his life to the person he pledged to serve, even beyond death.

This was a contract that not only defied the heavens, but also the fundamental force of death itself!

In other words, it was a huge taboo!

Imon's decaying soul quivered with primal fear at the thought of defying those powerful forces.

Was it worth it to condemn his soul to a potentially grave punishment just because he wanted to remain within reach of his sister?

Even if he accepted this contract and turned into a so-called Chosen Envoy, would he retain enough awareness of his old self, or would he turn into a ghost that only possessed a superficial resemblance of himself?

The fleeting urge to reunite with his sister at least once seemed to override his doubts and concerns.

A part of his old impulsiveness came back to him all of a sudden. It prompted him to throw aside all of his useless thoughts and accept the deal.

Imon slowly raised his arm and reached out until he shook Ves' glowing hand.

"..."

Nothing happened.

Ves briefly frowned. "A valid contract is a mutual agreement. Both sides must have full comprehension of the terms and agree with them wholeheartedly in order to take effect. You… are still rejecting some of the terms. Are you having trouble with pledging your eternal loyalty to myself?"

"..."

"I know it sounds onerous, but it is truly the only chance to bring you back to your sister."

"..."

"Yes, I am aware that you don't necessarily care about me anymore. You only want to come back because of your sister, but I am telling you that this is not how this works. A Chosen Envoy can only serve the person that possesses the capacity to extend this contract. Pledge your loyalty to me, and I shall give you opportunities to speak to your sister after becoming my Chosen Envoy. I can't give you more than that, but I promise to you that I will work to ease the restrictions on you one day. Whether that entails freeing you from your service or modifying the mechanisms that enforce your loyalty to me, there is always a solution to a problem. Is this good enough for you? As long as we work hard enough, there is always a chance for you to come back to life in full and return to being the brother that Casella truly desires."

The fog threatened to claw back Imon's soul, but evidently Ves' persuasion had lit up such a strong fire within him that the deceased expert pilot briefly managed to regain a sense of greater clarity!

A bit of his old self stared deeply into Ves' eyes.

"I agree so long as this isn't permanent." Imon firmly stated. "Promise me that you will earnestly seek to free me from my compulsion and give me a way to come back to life!"

"I promise. You can trust me, Imon. I always abide by my word."

The expert pilot continued to stare deeply into Ves' eyes before he decisively shook the mech designer's hand.

Everything exploded into light.