The young boy’s appearance was sharp and delicate, his complexion so pale it bordered on ghastly. He pressed his thin lips tightly together, trying to exude an air of nobility. His defiant gaze locked onto Ash, attempting to mask the fear and unease that his trembling eyes betrayed.
Ash tilted his head, observing the boy's struggle to stand. A flicker of indecision crossed his face. Should he strike again to ensure this opponent was completely incapacitated? After all, leaving a potential threat standing was never a good idea. However, after a moment of deliberation, Ash spoke, his tone calm yet commanding:
"I’ll accept your surrender. But first, step out of your mech."
Without the protective barrier of the mech, Ash knew he could dispatch the boy in three moves if needed. He hadn’t planned on killing anyone today, but survival dictated that he maintain absolute control. Besides, he needed these two conscious—he was unfamiliar with the ship's layout and systems.
The boy’s protector, Zwei, responded without hesitation, his voice steady and unwavering. "Agreed."
Zwei understood the situation well. The disparity in power was painfully obvious, and negotiating was futile. The best course of action was compliance, especially if it meant sparing the young master. Zwei’s years of service had taught him to act swiftly and decisively in crises like this.
The boy watched with curiosity as Zwei deactivated his mech, the armour dissolving into sub-space. It was the first time the young master had seen the person behind the armour, and the sight rendered him speechless.
Zwei was not a man but a strikingly beautiful woman. Golden hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, framing her face—delicate yet resolute. Her sapphire-blue eyes sparkled with an enigmatic depth, her athletic figure accentuated by the tight, form-fitting suit she wore. Her toned legs and graceful posture exuded strength and poise.
The boy, having grown up surrounded by elegance and beauty, was still captivated by her appearance, his wide eyes betraying his awe.
Ash, meanwhile, was entirely unbothered. His focus was on the mech.
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“Throw me your mech’s sub-space controller,” Ash demanded.
Zwei hesitated for the briefest of moments. Her confidence in her looks wavered as she realized Ash had not even spared her a glance. She had been trained to use her beauty as a weapon, a tool to shift odds in her favour when all else failed. Yet, this man was impervious to it, treating her as if she were invisible.
Reluctantly, she removed an intricately designed bracelet from her wrist and tossed it to Ash.
Catching it effortlessly, Ash examined the device, quickly removing its micro energy core. Once satisfied, he pocketed both the core and the controller, his movements methodical and efficient. Zwei’s heart sank as she watched him. His precision and paranoia meant there was no room for error. This man was not just skilled—he was terrifying.
“Come here,” Ash instructed, motioning toward Zwei.
She complied, nerves tightening in her chest.
Without hesitation, Ash tied her hands and feet with fibre rope, his actions swift and deliberate. His rough handling drew a wince from Zwei, who gritted her teeth against the pain. Despite her training, the sheer coldness in Ash’s demeanour unsettled her. His warning was simple but chilling.
“Don’t try anything foolish. You won’t like the consequences.”
His threat was punctuated by a brief but intense glance, his eyes gleaming with the promise of violence. Zwei shivered but said nothing.
Ash then turned toward the boy.
“What are you doing?” Zwei exclaimed, her voice rising sharply. “You promised not to harm him!”
Ash didn’t even glance back. “Relax. I’m not planning to hurt him. I just feel better if he’s tied up too.”
Walking over to the boy, Ash observed his defiant stance. The young master lifted his chin, his posture proud and unwavering. Though his face was still pale, some colour had returned, and his gaze held a quiet determination.
Ash smirked internally. He wasn’t offended by the boy’s attitude. If their roles were reversed, he’d likely feel the same way. Despite the boy’s fragile appearance, Ash took no chances, securing him with the same care he’d shown Zwei. His time on Garbage Planet 12 had taught him never to judge an opponent by looks alone.
The young master winced as the rope bit into his skin, his soft cries of pain tugging at Zwei’s heartstrings. She could only watch, helpless and frustrated.
With both captives restrained, Ash finally allowed himself to relax. He dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, leaning back as he caught his breath.
Zwei studied him closely, her sharp mind cataloguing every detail. His height was unremarkable, his skin a healthy tan, and his hair was a chaotic mess—likely the result of a malfunctioning auto-grooming bot. His figure was lean and athletic, his movements efficient and deceptively calm. But what unnerved her most was his aura—a blend of quiet ruthlessness and detached pragmatism.
“Who are you?” Ash finally broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension.
The captives exchanged uncertain glances.
“You don’t know who we are?” Zwei ventured cautiously.