Ash staggered out of the mech’s cockpit, drenched as if he’d just been pulled from a river. The aftermath of his intense training was more than apparent. His hands throbbed with a pain that seemed to pierce through to his bones, sending waves of spasms up his arms. He took shallow breaths, his face pale as he clenched his teeth against the pain. Strangely, though, his hands looked perfectly fine, not a single mark or swelling.

Rune, observing quietly, finally spoke. “It’s a symptom of excessive neural strain. You exceeded the threshold between your awareness and your motor functions, causing your nerves to interpret that as pain. There’s no lasting damage—just rest, and it should subside.”

Ash grimaced, clenching his jaw. “Rest? With pain like this? I’ll wake up screaming!”

Rune glanced at him, unruffled. “I know a method to relieve your pain.”

Ash’s eyes brightened instantly. “Really?” This constant ache was agonizing. He looked at Rune with a spark of hope.

“It doesn’t involve medication, nor any injections. It’s safe, effective, and works instantly,” Rune explained with a rare hint of encouragement.

Ash cut him off, desperate. “Just do it!”

Rune paused, a faint flicker of amusement in his gaze. “Are you certain you want to try this method?”

Despite an inexplicable chill running down his spine, Ash was resolute. “I’m sure!”

A sharp blow hit the side of his neck, and darkness claimed him before he could fully register the thought: It… really doesn’t hurt anymore.

When Ash finally woke up, he found himself feeling strangely out of sync, his hands a little less responsive than he remembered. Rune explained, “Your consciousness has developed beyond your body’s current capacity. Your hands feel slower because your mind has sped up. Once you adjust, the feeling will pass.”

Taking Rune’s advice, Ash spent the next few days working on his physical coordination, training especially on his hands. Using six small steel balls on a half-meter board, Ash concentrated on moving them rapidly under his fingers, his hands weaving around the balls as they ricocheted unpredictably. The exercise was exhausting; sweat beaded on his forehead, and his fingers strained to maintain control until—snap! The balls scattered in all directions, breaking his focus.

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Rune, observing from the side, offered a rare nod. “Though imperfect, it’s progress. For you, that’s a commendable result.”

Gratefully leaving the grueling exercise behind, Ash returned to his old mech, Winnie, with a sense of relief. After days without it, even the sight of its battered frame was strangely comforting.

In the time Ash spent training, Rune had taken over the hunting duties. Every prey Rune brought back bore only a single, clean hole through the neck—an unsettling testament to Rune’s skill. Impressed, Ash couldn’t help but marvel at his companion’s prowess.

Eager to test his newfound skills, Ash sped off across the garbage plains with Winnie, a whirlwind of excitement. Rune trailed behind at a steady pace, keeping an eye on him. Inspired, Ash decided to practice the chaotic wave-jump technique Rune had taught him.

He pushed Winnie to its limits, performing rapid, erratic maneuvers in close succession, the mech swaying and weaving in short, sharp arcs. But as he pushed further, trying to make the arcs smaller and tighter, a loud crack echoed through the cabin—Winnie had finally had enough.

The ancient mech split in two mid-motion. Ash barely had time to react before the top half hurtled off like a falling meteor, embedding itself deep into a trash heap. As the mountain of debris settled over him, Ash’s world went dark once more.

When Ash—still strapped into Winnie’s remains—was eventually hauled from the wreckage by Rune, he was both relieved and furious. Seeing the faint smirk on Rune’s otherwise impassive face didn’t help his mood. Worse, Rune carried him and Winnie back to their hideout like a defeated trophy, driving Ash’s irritation to its peak.

But no amount of frustration would change the fact that he was now without a mech. Winnie, despite its age and wear, had been his lifeline. Seeing it in pieces brought a pang of desperation. Reluctantly, he asked Rune to recover the broken parts.

Looking at the damaged pieces scattered around him, Ash felt the cold reality settle in. Winnie had been on borrowed time for years. Fixing it in this trash-strewn wasteland would be nearly impossible.

Rune’s unhelpful commentary didn’t help matters. “Ash, the probability of successful repair is below one percent. Pursuing this option is inefficient.”

Defeated, Ash had no choice but to retreat into the virtual network, grumbling under his breath as he strapped in. But even there, Rune’s presence was inescapable. “You have eighty-six untrained basic pilot skills remaining. Here’s the list.”

A long column of techniques scrolled down in front of Ash, but he ignored it, marching straight ahead.

Rune, however, wasn’t finished. “Ash, if you ever surpass me in skill, I’ll let you pilot my mech.”

Ash stopped in his tracks, a spark of determination flashing in his eyes. Then, without a word, he resumed his path, ready for the next challenge.