Chapter 82 – My Armor, My Knight, and My Dearest Friend!

After a short wait, the intercom at the research room door gave a quiet chime.

"Come in."

At Milea's word, the heavy security door slid smoothly open on both sides.

"I received your summons and came at once. Is there something you require of me?"

Standing in the doorway was a young woman whose glossy dark-purple hair fell with composed elegance -- Letaria.

Today she wore civilian clothes that retained something of the impression of her old formal dresses, tailored in a style that sat slightly above casual. A world apart from this world's preference for functional, practical clothing, it carried a kind of richness and refined grace that stood out vividly against the utilitarian quiet of the research room.

Letaria met the eyes of the three waiting for her -- Sean, Ritte, and Steve, the last of whom she was meeting for the first time -- with clear, steady gaze. Then, without the slightest hesitation, she lifted the hem of her skirt in one smooth motion and quietly folded into a curtsy. A genuine one. The formal kind.

"How do you do. I am Letaria Adeniam."

A greeting of a refinement that this station very rarely saw.

"Oh my..."

Sean, watching the sequence of movement, let out an involuntary sound of admiration. The calculation of a technician had entirely left his expression -- he appeared, in that moment, to be genuinely struck by her presence. Beside him, Ritte had allowed her usual cool composure to slip just enough to show surprise in her widened eyes.

"To witness such elegance of manner in person is quite a rare experience."

Only Steve, the eldest of them, remained entirely composed -- narrowing his eyes in calm and appreciative interest.

"You are... the pilot who operated Arden? The old-model -- that is to say, the special unit?"

Ritte addressed Letaria in a tone that carried a slight edge, something almost pointed beneath its formality. The same age as Letaria, she was clearly struggling to fully contain a mix of intense intellectual curiosity and something quieter -- something like rivalry -- toward this "unknown pilot" whose results had defied every projection.

"Indeed I am. ...Hehe -- were you able to observe my magnificent performance in combat?"

Letaria settled into her characteristic stance, puffing up with effortless confidence and the smile of someone who had nothing to be anything but proud of.

"Le-Letaria...!"

Milea, fully aware of who she was dealing with, felt her composure chill and moved to intervene -- but Sean was already laughing, loudly and with evident amusement.

"Ha! What a thoroughly singular young woman. The data certainly indicated she was 'exceptional' -- the evidence in person would appear to confirm it."

With Sean's response breaking the formality, the group exchanged the necessary courtesies and absorbed the impression of Letaria's rather forceful personality, before making their way to the dock where Arden was berthed.

◆

The great dock hatch opened, and a spotlight from above fell upon the machine.

"-- This is Arden, as it stands today."

Milea indicated the machine as she worked the controls on her terminal. The frame retained something of the old Escad-manufactured Claphid's outline that had been in the data previously shared with the Perda branch -- but it bore no resemblance to the emergency-patched configuration that had used Rude parts for reinforcement. In its place: a set of specialized trial components that gave it the particular quality of something in the process of becoming -- neither raw prototype nor finished machine.

"My beloved partner."

Letaria murmured it with quiet pride, gazing up at the frame. Both Sean and Steve responded with smiles that were warm and unhurried -- watching her. The first impression Letaria had made on both of them was evidently not a poor one.

The current Arden was fitted with pre-prototype components from the classified Letariem special unit project. Under normal circumstances, this too would be information to keep well away from any other branch -- but given that the Perda branch had supplied the Grave Arc as a favor, Milea had judged that concealing everything from them entirely was no longer a viable position.

"Hmm... Previously, when it was still in Claphid form, our understanding was of it as a heavily modified older-generation unit that happened to produce anomalous readings in certain parameters. I see -- the machine's fundamental configuration has now been substantially altered through the special unit project testing."

Sean studied the imposing frame from behind his glasses, eyes narrowed and analytical.

His reading was about seventy percent correct. The Arden System itself, and the generator linkages that accompanied it, remained exactly as they had always been.

"Yes. That said, we've only conducted a small number of basic test flights thus far, and the machine carries no combat armament at present, so--"

Milea had begun deflecting, trying to steer attention away from further inquiry, when:

"...I see. Two units of the Grave Arc were provided in the original transfer. One has been expended. What if the second were mounted on Arden now -- so that we could observe it operating in person, here?"

The silence in the room pulled taut.

It was Ritte who had spoken, quietly and without inflection.

"...Chief Researcher Sean. Adapting the Grave Arc to the current Arden's modified interface lines would require fundamental redesign of the energy transfer interface from the ground up. Performed with Seldia's facilities, a significant adjustment period would be necessary."

Ritte's own precise, unsparing follow-up.

Sean responded with a mild "Oh, is that so?" and a smile. There was no possibility that a man in his position, leading another branch's research division, had failed to notice the interface incompatibility. He had known.

(-- He knew exactly what he was doing when he said it.)

Milea held her smile in place and confirmed the fact internally. Whoever held the top position at another branch was, it turned out, precisely as sharp as advertised.

"Sean-san -- please, not too hard on our young chief researcher here. Whatever the surrounding circumstances, the fact that this Seldia was saved by the Grave Arc is not in dispute. I am genuinely grateful -- to you and to Ritte-san both."

Steve had seen enough. He stepped in with the ease of a man who had handled a great many difficult rooms, defusing Sean's line of pressure and covering for Milea in one smooth motion.

Sean, unembarrassed, broke into good-natured laughter.

"Ha -- forgive me. A technician's curiosity getting slightly ahead of good manners."

The laughter was moving to smooth over the moment -- when Ritte, who had been standing in silence the entire time, turned slowly to look at Letaria.

"Adeniam-san. ...When you activated the Grave Arc in that battle and directed it at Restful. ...What did it feel like?"

It was a question that no data readout could ever answer. A direct reach toward the interior of the pilot as an individual.

"Feel like? That is difficult to say... At the time, I was simply in a frenzy, utterly consumed by the moment. That opponent was a 'demon god,' after all. There was no question of holding anything back."

The word "demon god" -- a term drawn straight from fantasy -- dropped into the dock and lay there, and no one in the room moved to question it. What it conveyed was something that no technical vocabulary could contain: that she had been completely, genuinely committed, with her life on the line, and meant every word. That much came through the straightness of her gaze, unmistakably.

Ritte took one step closer to Letaria.

"...I have been told that you are the only person in Seldia capable of piloting this special unit -- Arden. What is this machine, to you? In your own words."

Letaria answered without the slightest pause, and with the most unguarded smile she had.

"My armor, my knight, and -- an irreplaceable friend!"

Milea watched Ritte's face in that moment.

When a person is struck silent by something that lies entirely outside the frame of their understanding -- that, Milea thought, was precisely what Ritte's expression looked like right now.

A long silence passed.

Then Ritte exhaled, very quietly, as though releasing something that had been held too long in the depth of her chest.

"...I see."

No further words came from her after that.