Chapter 45 - Sophomore Boomerang

Backstage, my friends and I crowded around the large screen, watching the battles unfold. The higher-year students displayed weapons I had never seen before, sleek and menacing, with designs that screamed precision and devastation. Their Frame Units were equally awe-inspiring; some seniors maneuvered with such grace that the metallic bulk of their armors seemed to vanish, leaving behind only fluid, deadly motion. The clang of metal against metal, punctuated by bursts of energy, filled the arena, a symphony of combat that held us spellbound.

Somewhere around the fifth or sixth match, I felt a soft nudge against my stomach, breaking my trance. I turned to see Myrrh, her lime-blonde hair catching the backstage lights, holding up her phone as she glanced at me.

“Hey, our match is next. Let’s head to the launch queue,” she said, her voice calm but her eyes gleaming with determination.

“Aight,” I replied, a faint grin tugging at my lips.

We waved goodbye to our friends and made our way to the east-side queue. The roar of the coliseum grew louder with every step. From the waiting area, we had an unfiltered view of the final moments of the ongoing match. A yellow Frame Unit, its sleek armor glinting under the arena lights, swung its beam saber in a brilliant arc, severing the head of a green Frame Unit. Sparks erupted from the defeated machine, marking the dramatic end of the match.

“And the winner for this match is Examinee Pair Number 41, baby!” The emcee, Miles, boomed over the mic, his voice shaking the stands as the crowd erupted in cheers.

“Well, that was quick,” Myrrh muttered, her gaze lingering on the victorious Frame Unit before turning to me with a confident smile. “Let’s do the same thing, right, Zaft?”

“We’ll make it quick, but let’s make sure we win in the end,” I said, extending a fist toward Myrrh with a confident grin.

She smirked, tapping her knuckles against mine. “Who do you think I am, anyway? Just don’t mess up my mother’s teachings, got it?”

We both laughed, a brief moment of levity in the charged atmosphere.

The emcee’s voice echoed through the arena, booming with excitement. “And now, let’s welcome our next Examinee Pairs—Number 11 and Number 14, baby!”

The spotlight hit the entryway, bathing the launch corridor in a stark, brilliant glow. Myrrh and I stepped forward, the roar of the crowd swelling around us like a tidal wave. My gaze drifted to Myrrh as she strutted with effortless swagger—her chest puffed, chin held high, and lime-blonde hair flicking behind her with every deliberate step. Her walk oozed confidence, almost daring anyone to underestimate her.

Inspired, I tried to match her energy, straightening my back and stiffening my gait. Unfortunately, my attempt at "cool" swagger quickly devolved into a clunky, robotic march.

“What the hell are you doing, Zaft?” Myrrh hissed, her voice low but sharp with irritation.

“I don’t know! I’m trying to be cool!” I whispered back, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.

“Just walk normally, idiot!” she snapped, her eyes narrowing before she turned her focus back to the arena.

Before I could adjust, an unfamiliar voice cut through our hushed argument. Deep and dripping with condescension, the man’s words stopped us both in our tracks.

“So, you’re our first opponents, huh?” he said, stepping into the light. His dark uniform gleamed with a predatory edge, his presence commanding attention. “I can’t say I’m impressed. Freshmen like you managing to pass the written exams is laughable—especially considering one of the subjects isn’t even part of your curriculum yet.”

Myrrh and I turned our attention to our opponents. The support unit, who had just delivered his snide remark, was a strikingly handsome young man with chin-length blonde hair that seemed to catch the arena lights perfectly. Beside him stood his WAIFU—a crimson-haired girl with a neatly tied ponytail, her face adorned with a constellation of freckles that softened her otherwise sharp expression.

My eyes caught the yellow armbands on their uniforms, marking them as sophomores of Orbital Tech. It was no surprise—there were only a handful of freshmen like us who managed to pass the grueling written examinations. Still, the sight of those yellow bands brought a mix of relief and tension. We weren’t up against third years, at least not yet, but the uphill climb was starting here and now.

Myrrh placed her hands on her hips, glaring at the blonde support unit with a look that could melt steel. Her piercing blue eyes had a way of slicing through people, a weapon sharper than any beam saber. I knew that glare all too well—having been on the receiving end of it more times than I cared to admit.

“Y-you’ll pay for looking down on me, beansprouts!” the blonde sputtered, his composure cracking as he took a step forward.

“C-calm down, Nash!” his WAIFU, the freckled crimson-haired girl, said, her voice wavering as she tried to rein him in.

Nash clenched his fists and turned to her. “Let’s beat them down, Tina!”

I exchanged a glance with Myrrh, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. She met my gaze, her lips curling into a smug grin. For once, that cutting glare of hers wasn’t aimed at me but at our opponents. In this moment, her unshakable confidence felt like a shield, and I couldn’t help but feel lucky to have her as my partner in both combat and this unspoken game of insults.

“Examinee WAIFUs, please step onto the red line. Examinee support units, proceed to the platform,” the emcee, Dianca, announced, her voice crisp and commanding over the coliseum’s speakers.

We followed the instructions without hesitation. As soon as I stepped onto the platform, it began to rise, floating upward like a sleek, futuristic elevator. Railings materialized around the edges, shimmering into existence for our safety. As the platform ascended, the expansive view of the coliseum unfolded before me—a vast arena packed with roaring spectators, their cheers echoing like a thunderstorm. From forty meters above ground, I could see it all: the flashing lights, the vibrant banners, and the combat field that would soon become our battleground.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Examination Battle will begin in three… two… one…” Dianca’s voice resonated through the speakers, her countdown building the tension. "Begin!"

“Frame Unit, Awaken!” Myrrh and the crimson-haired WAIFU, Tina, simultaneously raised their morphers high, the devices gleaming in the artificial light.

In an instant, twin pillars of light shot down from the heavens, engulfing the coliseum floor. From those radiant beams, their Frame Units began to take form, towering twenty-meter-tall mechs shimmering into existence like gods descending to the mortal plane. Our opponent’s mech emerged first: a sleek, white machine adorned with blood-red plate armor, its green eyes glowing with a predatory intensity. But Myrrh’s Frame Unit stood firm against it—a formidable mech with sparking blue highlights, its polished surface catching the light as if daring anyone to challenge its might.

I activated my WEEB System, and a holographic display erupted around me, presenting an array of weapon options for Myrrh’s support. As I studied the options, trying to strategize, I caught sight of Nash on the opposing platform. He was leaning casually against the railing, his smug grin practically daring me to falter.

“Wow,” Nash drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. “You have so few options to win this fight. Pathetic. My Clearance Level is 17, by the way. You might as well give up now.”

His words hit like a taunt, but before I could stew on it, Myrrh’s voice cut through, sharp and steady.

“Don’t listen to that cockroach, Zaft. Focus on the fight.” Her calm confidence steadied my nerves as much as it fueled my resolve.

“Got it,” I replied, nodding as I tightened my focus on the hologram controls.

“Hey! Who are you calling a cockroach!?” Nash bellowed, stomping on the platform with enough force to make the railings vibrate. His face was a mix of indignation and determination as he jabbed at his holographic screen. “I’ll show you how advanced our weapons are!”

Nash tapped on an option, his hand glowing faintly with circuits as he pointed toward his partner, Tina.

“Blade Shield, Equip!”

In response, Tina’s Frame Unit materialized a massive kite-shaped shield, its edges lined with gleaming, serrated blades that seemed to hum with latent energy. Without missing a beat, Tina surged forward, her shield leading the charge, its sharp edges slicing through the air with precision.

Myrrh stood her ground, unarmed but unfazed. I frantically tapped on my own hologram interface, my arm sparking with glowing blue circuits. “Beam Rifle, Equip!”

A sleek, futuristic rifle shimmered into existence in Myrrh’s hands, and she immediately opened fire. Precise beams of light shot toward Tina, cutting through the air with sharp, crackling sounds. But Tina’s shield proved its worth—she raised it effortlessly, deflecting the lasers as she closed the distance.

“Ha!” Nash’s voice boomed across the coliseum, dripping with arrogant confidence. “That beam rifle is basic! Let me show you what real firepower looks like!” His fingers danced over his hologram interface, activating a new weapon with a flourish. “Beam Tomahawk, Equip!”

Tina’s Frame Unit materialized a wicked-looking tomahawk, its blade glowing with a menacing green energy. Without slowing down, she cocked her arm back and hurled it forward with a fierce cry. “Yah!”

The beam tomahawk spun through the air, a whirling arc of destructive energy aimed directly at Myrrh.

“Evade!” I shouted, but Myrrh was already moving. She leaned hard to her left, the beam tomahawk slicing past her with mere centimeters to spare before circling back toward Tina like a guided missile.

In the same fluid motion, Myrrh tossed aside her beam rifle, the weapon vanishing into particles, and activated her thrusters. Blue flames erupted from her Frame Unit’s back as she launched herself forward, closing the gap between her and Tina with alarming speed.

“You’re underestimating me by throwing your own weapon!” Tina roared, her voice echoing through the coliseum as her Frame Unit surged forward with a burst of fiery thrusters.

Closing the gap with remarkable speed, Tina swung her bladed shield in a brutal arc, aiming straight for Myrrh’s head. The sharp edges of the shield gleamed menacingly, promising a devastating impact.

But Myrrh was quicker. In the split second before the blades could connect, she leaned back, bending her mech’s upper body with precision and grace. The shield’s razor edges sliced through the air, missing her by a hair’s breadth.

With the same fluid motion, Myrrh shifted her weight and engaged her thrusters. Blue flames flared from her right leg as she delivered a powerful kick aimed squarely at Tina’s shield.

“Yaaaah!”

The impact was thunderous, sending a resounding clang through the arena. The force of the kick drove Tina’s shield slightly downward, its edge digging into the ground. But it wasn’t enough—there was no visible damage, only a slight dent where Myrrh’s foot had struck.

From above, Nash’s laughter rang out, smug and self-assured. “Did you know?” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “One special feature of the beam tomahawk is that it doubles as a boomerang. It always returns to its owner!”

My heart sank as I glanced at Myrrh, my stomach knotting with worry. “Oh shit!” I yelled, realizing what was about to happen.

Sure enough, the green beam tomahawk was hurtling back, its deadly energy blade spinning like a saw as it homed in on its target. It was moving too fast—there was no way Myrrh could react in time.

Or so I thought.

Myrrh didn’t so much as flinch. It was as if she had anticipated the weapon’s trajectory from the moment it was thrown. With a sharp cry, she delivered another thunderous kick to Tina’s shield, forcing it downward once more. The sudden force destabilized Tina just enough for Myrrh to use the momentum of her kick to propel herself backward into a perfectly timed backflip.

Her Frame Unit arced gracefully through the air, the thrusters on her back flaring brilliantly as she twisted out of the tomahawk’s path. The deadly weapon whizzed past her, narrowly missing her midair form, before returning to Tina’s outstretched hand.

The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps, the display of agility and foresight leaving everyone on the edge of their seats.

“Nice try,” Myrrh said, her tone as cold and sharp as the glare of her Frame Unit’s glowing eyes.

“What the—! How can you move so fast—?!” Tina’s startled cry was cut short as disaster struck.

The beam tomahawk, spinning with unrelenting energy, came barreling back toward her Frame Unit. In her haste to intercept it, Tina misjudged the timing. The deadly weapon bypassed her grasp entirely, its glowing blade slashing cleanly through the neck of her mech. Sparks erupted like fireworks, and with a sickening metallic groan, the Frame Unit’s head toppled to the ground, crashing against the arena floor with a thunderous clang.

The crowd gasped collectively, the sound a mixture of shock and exhilaration.

For a moment, there was silence as Tina’s Frame Unit powered down, its hulking, decapitated form slumping forward in defeat.

“Ah! I lost my head there—literally!” Tina’s voice crackled through the comms, tinged with both embarrassment and disbelief.

From the opposite platform, Nash stood frozen, his jaw hanging open as if he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. “W-whaaaaaaaat…?” he stammered, his disbelief palpable.

The emcee’s cheerful voice broke through the stunned atmosphere. “Battle Over!” Dianca announced, her tone brimming with enthusiasm. “The winner of this match is Miss Myrrh Alicent—oops, pardon me—Examinee Number 11!”

The coliseum erupted in cheers, the audience’s excitement shaking the very air.

Myrrh’s Frame Unit shimmered and dissolved into light as she reverted to her human form, her expression as calm and composed as ever. Tina also returned to her human state, though her flushed cheeks betrayed her embarrassment. Meanwhile, our support platforms descended back to ground level.

As we stepped off the platform, Myrrh wasted no time striding over to Nash, her presence commanding attention. Standing before him, she let a confident grin spread across her face and flicked her lime-blonde hair over her shoulder with theatrical flair.

“It’s just a basic skill,” she said with casual arrogance, her tone oozing with self-assurance.

For once, I didn’t mind her smug attitude. In fact, I couldn’t help but admire it. The way she handled herself—on and off the battlefield—made it clear she was someone to be reckoned with.

Nash, for his part, could only sputter, struggling to come up with a response as the crowd continued to cheer for the unexpected yet spectacular victory.