Masato Tanaka stood in front of the mirror, anxiety pulsing through his veins as he prepared for the debrief. The cold sweat on his brow glistened under the fluorescent lighting as he struggled to straighten his tie. He glanced at the file he clutched tightly in his hand – Nori's vitals. Despite the weight of the situation, Masato couldn't help but smirk as he thought of how much more successful he had been with the Mach armor than any of his predecessors.

"Remember," he muttered to himself, "they need me more than I need them. You are the only one with a successful pilot."

With a deep breath, he stepped onto the elevator and ascended to face the board. As the doors opened, revealing the stern faces of the members, Masato felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He cleared his throat and took his place before them, the air thick with tension.

"Mr. Tanaka," began one of the board members, a woman with a hawk-like gaze, "you claim that Nori Aoki was stable during the incident at Osaka pier, yet our reports indicate otherwise. How do you explain the mass casualties?"

Masato swallowed hard but maintained his composure. "I admit, Nori was... volatile," he conceded, "What I meant was his vitals were stable. I have data here showing that the suit wasn't killing him like it did the others before."

He gave the files to an officer, who delivered them to the board members. Each one opened them to read over graphs and charts, each meticulously displaying the evidence supporting his claim. The board members seemed convinced by the findings.

"This is impressive but we still can't allow someone like Nori to pilot a Mach again, the risk to our own people is too great." A heavy-set board member said

"I couldn't agree more," Masato continued, "it's become clear to me that only someone with immense willpower can properly operate a Mach without succumbing to its deadly side effects. This means we have far more options beyond unstable mental patients. I already have another candidate in mind, one who has shown true loyalty to his country."

The hawk-eyed woman narrowed her eyes, unimpressed. "This had better work, Mr. Tanaka; otherwise, consider yourself dismissed. We can't afford any more mistakes."

"Believe me," Masato retorted, a hint of defiance in his voice, "you'll need my expertise to locate the rogue Mach, someone else has this technology."

"Rest assured, Mr. Tanaka," a board member with a receding hairline chimed in, "we know about the Mach, that is why we have our best looking for it." He motioned to a young woman standing off the side of the table, Mao. She shot Masato a smug look, and he could feel his blood starting to boil.

"Very well," Masato replied tersely, "I will go collect our new pilot," The board members nodded with approval before taking his leave.

As soon as he was out of earshot, his calm demeanor crumbled. He felt the walls closing in around him, and his breaths became shallow and panicked. They have already chosen my replacement he thought. The thought of losing his position gnawed at him, there had to be a way to turn this around. He would not give up; he had come too far to fail now.

-----

Underneath a heavy gray sky, Hiro walked the bustling streets of Osaka, his eyes scanning every face in the crowd for any sign of Yutaka. The weight of unanswered questions regarding the Mach and his dead parents pressed down on him like an invisible burden.

But as the day wore on, Hiro's hope began to wane. He wandered into a narrow alleyway, where a ragged tent caught his eye. A flicker of possibility ignited within him; could Yutaka be inside?

Hiro cautiously approached the tent, but as he pulled back the tattered fabric, an angry homeless man lunged at him, "Get the hell away from my shit, I'll kill you." Hiro stumbled backward, adrenaline surging through him as he sprinted farther down the alley. The man chased him until they reached a dead end, Hiro shrunk into the corner with no place to hide.

"Get away from him!" came a sudden shout. To Hiro's relief, it was Yutaka who appeared, his eyes blazing with intensity. He pointed what looked like a small gun at the man.

The homeless raised his arms in surrender, "OK, OK, I am sorry man." He backed off from Hiro, eyes locked on the weapon.

"Get out of here," Yutaka hissed.

The homeless man hesitated, then darted back down the alley, muttering under his breath. Yutaka turned to Hiro, his expression softening. "Breathe, Hiro," he urged gently. "You're safe now."

"Yutaka...," Hiro gasped, still recovering from the ordeal.

"I know, we need to talk about the pier," Yutaka nodded and led Hiro through the maze-like streets to a small, quiet cafe tucked away from the chaos outside.

As they sat down, Yutaka ordered a coffee and turned his attention toward Hiro, who placed the old cell phone on the table. "I need to know what exactly a Mach is," Hiro said, his voice firm despite the tremble in his hands.

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"Your parents were hired to create the next generation of war machines," Yutaka began, taking a sip of his coffee. " Though they were told the machines would be used to simply protect Japan from future wars. They had no idea how paranoid the government had become since the last great war, they wanted the Machs to control the rest of the world. Fearing their misuse, your parents planned to destroy the Mach devices."

Hiro's eyes widened in disbelief, and he leaned forward, hanging on Yutaka's every word.

"However," Yutaka continued, "the government somehow caught wind of their plans and confiscated the Machs. Desperate, your parents created one last Mach—this one," he gestured to the cellphone, "to ensure that if any other Mach was activated, it could be destroyed."

"Can the government create more of these?" Hiro asked, his voice tinged with fear.

Yutaka shook his head. "Not without your parents. Their knowledge was unique and they were about to destroy every trace of their research." He paused, then locked eyes with Hiro. "You must use this Mach to save the world, Hiro. Destroy the others before Japan uses them to declare war."

"But how do I do that on my own? I am just a kid, I don't know how to fight or track things. I got lucky at the pier," Hiro said, the pressure threatened to crush him.

"Of course, you were never meant to do this alone." Yutaka agreed, scribbling his number on a napkin and handing it to Hiro, "I had no idea they would be able to find a pilot so quickly, had I known I would have given you this sooner."

Hiro nodded, clutching the napkin as if it were a lifeline. "So you'll help me?"

"Yes, I have the tech skills to track down the remaining Machs and you can pilot ours. Together we can make your parents' dream a reality." Yutaka said, his words giving Hiro hope. "Now go home Hiro, I am sure your uncle is worried about you."

Hiro stepped out of the café, his heart a little lighter knowing he had an ally in Yutaka. Hiro's sneakers scuffed the pavement as he began the walk home, his thoughts racing with how many Machs the government could have.

"Hey, Hiro!" a familiar voice called out, snapping him back to reality. Kimiko waved at him from across the street, her long black hair catching the sunlight. A grin spread across Hiro's face, and he eagerly crossed the road to join her.

"Kimiko! How's it going?" he asked, his voice bright.

"Ugh, advanced functions are killing me," she groaned, rolling her eyes playfully. "I bet you're struggling too, right?"

"Definitely," Hiro chuckled, grateful for the normalcy of the conversation. They walked side by side, chatting about school and homework, as they scrolled through their phones.

As they turned a corner, Kimiko's expression grew serious. "Did you hear about that explosion at the docks? The police haven't said anything yet." she flashed the story on her phone.

Hiro's heart clenched, his newfound relief evaporating. "Uh, maybe it was just an accident or something," he offered weakly, trying to sound casual.

"Accident? I don't think so," Kimiko countered, her eyes narrowing. "People are saying it was a terrorist attack. The government is trying to cover it up" She glanced at Hiro, concern etching her features. "You don't think another war is about to break out do you?"

Hiro felt sweat prickle at his temples, the truth about the pier was far more terrifying than a possible war. Desperate to change the subject, he blurted out, "Have you heard Niki and Satoro are dating now!"

"Really?" Kimiko said, excited by this piece of classroom gossip. "I knew it! she has been telling everyone they are just friends, but the photos of them at the Lunar festival make it so clear."

Hiro smiled as Kimiko continued her rant all the way to his house. The warm glow of the porch light welcomed them, and Hiro felt a pang of guilt for keeping secrets from his best friend.

"See you tomorrow, Kimiko," he said with a smile.

"Of course, meet me at the corner and we will walk together," she waved goodbye as she walked away.

Once inside, Hiro hurried up to his room, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against it, his heart heavy with the burden of his newfound responsibility. As much as he wanted to confide in Kimiko and his uncle, he knew he couldn't. They had to be kept safe, even if it meant carrying this secret alone.

------

The heavy metal doors of the prison groaned open, revealing the decaying hallway that led to the visiting area. Masato took a deep breath, his nerves bubbling beneath the surface as he strode forward with purpose. Within these very confines he hoped to find his next Mach pilot, his last chance to keep the position he had worked his whole life for.

As he entered the visiting area, Masato scanned the room and spotted an empty table at the far end. He made his way over and sat down, tapping his fingers impatiently on the surface as he awaited Noboru's arrival. The anticipation gnawed at him, but he forced himself to remain patient.

Finally, a guard approached, leading a handcuffed Noboru to the table. The man looked weary, with dark circles under his eyes and a scruffy, unkempt beard. Despite this, there was a fire in his gaze that Masato couldn't help but admire.

"Mr. Noboru," Masato began, offering a thin-lipped smile as the prisoner was secured to the table. "Thank you for meeting with me."

"Didn't have much of a choice, did I?" Noboru retorted, his tone bitter and defensive.

"Fair point," Masato conceded. "Allow me to get straight to the matter at hand, then. I'm here because I believe you have the potential to be of great service to our government."

"Government?" Noboru scoffed. "You mean the same people who locked me up in here? No thanks."

"Actually, I've reviewed your case extensively," Masato countered, his voice steady and measured. "It's quite clear to me that you were framed for those murders, and your government apologizes for that."

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" Noboru muttered, looking away. "Just leave me alone."

"Mr. Noboru," Masato persisted, undeterred. "We don't simply want to get you out of this place, we find the ones responsible for setting you up in the first place."

Noboru's eyes flicked back to Masato, a hint of interest sparking behind his guarded expression. Sensing an opening, Masato continued, "You were a respected Tokyo detective, you solved cases no one else could. The prime minister personally had your number. You deserve all that back and those corrupt officers that sent you here deserve to rot behind these walls.... or worse."

"You think you know my story, don't you?" Noboru snapped, his voice strained with frustration.

"Of course not," Masato said, leaning forward slightly. "But I am here to listen, and use all of my connections to ensure you get justice for what happened to you."

Noboru hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Masato's face for any sign of deceit. But as he found none, he took a deep breath and began to share the truth of what had happened – a truth that changed his life forever.