In my comic, I hadn't yet reached the parts where I would need to illustrate the landing of an interstellar spaceship to deploy heavy and assault mechs. I had simply mentioned that these gargantuan space vessels are costly and vulnerable; thus, they are strategically landed away from direct combat to prevent unintended damage. I introduced this concept for balance, so I wouldn't have to explain to readers: "Why didn't the hundred-ton machines just drop directly onto the planet's defense forces?" To facilitate the landing of such super-heavy equipment, I incorporated the necessity of landing the main ship.

I had to admit... The landing was visually captivating. It was fascinating. After all, the sight of a colossus twice the size of an aircraft carrier descending from the heavens was nothing short of impressive! All this was accentuated by the constant barrage of artillery. Cluster and thermobaric munitions rained down from the interstellar ship in a ceaseless cascade, entirely incinerating the landing site, and transforming the rapeseed fields into a desert that would make the Martian wastelands envious.

According to the stipulations set out in the charter, this colossal ship landed on an already "prepared" territory, just a few hundred meters from where the drop pods had initially landed. This was despite the fact that we had been pushed back nearly three kilometers from that point by the second wave. We barely had time to finish off the remaining mechs from the second wave before the starship's landing gear touched down. Its titanic ramps unfolded, releasing the true giants of the combat robot world - heavy and assault mechs whose mass reached one hundred and fifty tons. The weaponry of just one of these behemoths could flatten a medium-sized city to the ground. However, such firepower wasn't necessary; they simply bulldozed through the buildings, sweeping everything away with their sheer size and armor.

These ultra-destructive machines were piloted by the best of the best, the true elites with countless battles under their belts. These mechs had only one weakness - their limited mobility. But the clan warlords were no fools, and each heavy mech was accompanied by at least two light reconnaissance vehicles, primarily the familiar Locusts and Pumas.

Following Halley's succinct commands, the Break Knights also repositioned themselves to confront this new threat. However, I was preoccupied with something entirely different. I suddenly recalled the Breakthrough that occurred on the cruise ship. More specifically, that there was also a starship involved. The starship that nearly transported me to the Fantasy Plane!

"Halley! Maya!" I shouted to capture their attention. "You're in command!"

"And you?" Maya asked after a moment's hesitation, her voice betraying a tremor of fear.

These words were hard for me to say, but I managed to push them out.

"I have another duty!"

Ignoring her protests, I launched forward in Sliding. The Fan of Probabilities aided me in evading the lethal volleys that the clan pilots relentlessly aimed in my direction. The assault mechs, having secured their beachhead, also charged forward at full speed, shielded by light vehicles. The firewall that the second wave of robots created for us paled in comparison to the havoc now being wreaked by the Summoners, Thunders, Warhammers, Marauders, and Atlases of both modifications! Twenty-four giants were enough to breach the defenses and seize control of a mid-sized planet in the outer Sphere. And now, all this power was directed at us, a small band of warriors armed with swords and clad in medieval armor.

An uneven battle.

Absolutely.

The robots were doomed. They would resist fiercely, no doubt, and they weren't easy to overcome. The damage from the clash might be colossal. But I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the weak points I had built into the comic as the author were sufficient. The raigs would eventually triumph!

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But my current mission wasn't to repel this specific Breakthrough. My objective was to locate the Door! So, with Maya left behind and likely feeling a little betrayed, I had dashed forward. I barreled through, quite literally pushing through a storm of incoming fire.

Without the Fan of Probabilities, I wouldn't have been able to navigate such a thick barrage solo. But with the Fan functioning, I managed to do what clan pilots and commanders deemed impossible. Having sliced through the fastening rods of the hastily shut ramps, I penetrated the spaceship.

Technicians and tankers were bustling about inside its hangar decks. The few autocannon operators of the internal anti-boarding defenses futilely tried to target my Projection. I had noted before that interstellar starships were so rare and costly that losing even one would inflict nearly irreparable damage on the entire clan. If the landing command had to choose between losing the starship or abandoning the landed mechs to their fate, the charter dictated the ship must be saved!

Recognizing my intrusion into the ship, the commander swiftly implemented the necessary protocols. The ramps were shut, and those damaged by explosions were flung aside as dozens of technicians and maintenance staff perished. But their deaths were inconsequential to the command. The starting engines kicked into action simultaneously with the blaring alarms. I reckoned at least five or maybe six Locusts had just been incinerated in this "friendly fire."

I couldn't help but feel a smidge of sympathy for the clan warriors. They faced not just a fighter who could predict the future. Their situation was far graver. They were up against the very individual who had designed all their weapons and charters. The one who knew exactly what orders their commander would give under the current emergency protocols.

The battle raged on below. Even deserted by the main ship, the mech pilots wouldn't surrender. They had a mission and would strive to accomplish it till their dying breath.

I bolted forward. First, through wide passages akin to avenues leading to the now-empty hangars. Then along the corridors of the barracks. Subsequently, through the technical shafts. Until finally, I breached the cockpit. Even the best mech pilots were denied access here; this was the domain of the navy. My journey wasn't immediate, it took nearly ten minutes. By this time, the starship had already exited Earth's atmosphere and continued to pick up speed.

The five guards in the control room couldn't hold me back for more than a second. And multi-ton steel doors were effortlessly sliced through by Purity. The navigator, rising from his seat, reached for the warp-transition switch. I didn't plan to stop him; on the contrary, if he didn't flip the switch, then I would.

"Stop!" the captain shouted, realizing that it was the ship's departure to the warp that I needed.

However, his order came too late, and the navigator, adhering to protocol, pulled the lever. Along with everything around me, I was instantly flattened into a thin pancake. I had depicted the warp transition in my comic as a change in the dimensionality of space. Merely depicted in words. And now, I had experienced firsthand what it meant - "a change in dimensionality." The ship's crew was securely shielded from this effect by protective capsules, which was why the warp transition was considered a reliable and ultimate defense against boarding. A change in physics killed everyone who wasn't protected. At that moment, thousands of people, all those who didn't have time to secure themselves due to the alarm, were experiencing the same thing as I was. How every cell of theirs seemed to be smeared across the ship.

But we were in the Break, and now I was not a human, but more of a ghost, a spiritual projection, and even such a drastic change in physical laws couldn't kill me. Yes, I also wrote about this in the comic, where ghostly entities vaguely resembling raigs, survived during a warp transition.

It turned me inside out. Smeared me. Gathered me back together. And smeared me again.

I could easily stop it - I simply needed to stop "clinging" to the spaceship. Let it go. But I felt it was too soon. My prana was depleting at an astronomical rate. More than a percent per imaginary second. If I hadn't recently achieved the fourth level and, with it, the perk for affinity with the Break, my energy would have been exhausted sooner than required. And I would have died without reaching my goal.

At the last percent, at the very bottom of my prana reserve, I heard... a song. A song about a fox.

It's time!

And I released the starship. I let it go - and was instantly thrown into the usual dimension but not the usual space. I was still in the Break. I was standing on a translucent path between the rings of Saturn in the void of space.

A path in space? Absurd? Perhaps.

Just as absurd was a door. A regular one, wooden, right in front of me. It was from behind this door that a familiar melody could be heard.

My palm rested on the doorknob.

Turn.

Push.

Step forward.