The Girl from the Future
Makina "Ugh, my back. It's gonna snap, seriously."
With Big Boss's help, hauling the capsule to this deserted stretch of coastline hadn't been as tough as I'd thought. The guy made for an excellent shuttle, and true to his status as lord of the seas, he even controlled the waves to push the capsule deep onto the sandy beach.
The real problem came next: dragging this massive hunk of metal from the not-so-wide beach to the nearby abandoned resort ruins.
"Damn it, they say Japan is full of bears—why the hell are there none in Okinawa!"
I'd hoped to snag a passing bear to do the heavy lifting, but a quick search confirmed there weren't any around. In the end, it just meant I had to do the grunt work myself.
"Haa... haa..."
Finally, after barely managing to settle the capsule in a safe spot, I braced my hands on my knees and panted raggedly. I shook off the sweat-soaked clothes clinging to me and stared straight at the enormous capsule before me.
"Hmm. No weird noises or anything."
In the original story, the protagonist—a hero hopeful dragged to the Hero Association by his childhood friend—feels a mysterious resonance calling to him the moment he steps into the building. Following that enigmatic sound, he ventures deep into the basement and discovers the capsule that seems to be summoning him. Right then, the association comes under villain attack, and in that life-or-death moment, the capsule opens upon contact with the protagonist. That's how the transformation battles kick off.
"It only responds to the chosen one, right?"
No matter how long I waited or poked around every nook and cranny, the capsule stayed dead silent. But that was expected. I wasn't some chosen hero, and I had zero interest in playing that role.
"Doesn't mean there's no way to open it, though."
The capsule was designed to open from the inside to begin with. It had just glitched out due to the impact from crashing into the ocean after a botched coordinate set. The fix was simple: restore it to its pre-damage state.
I slowly placed my hand on the capsule's cold metal surface. My second ability, Restoration—which could revert anything back to its original form as long as some shape remained—began forcibly reassembling even this over-technology machine from an era that didn't exist yet.
Barnacles and seaweed clinging to the exterior crumbled into powder and fell away. The dented outer walls regained their smooth curves, and the scratched, damaged surface gleamed with a fresh-from-the-factory polish. I could even feel invisible internal damage mending. Satisfied, I pulled my hand away.
Right then, a mighty hum emanated from within, like a machine heart reignited.
> ─ System Rebooting……
> ─ Main power plant output stabilized.
> ─ External atmosphere analysis complete: No toxic or hazardous elements detected.
> ─ Master authentication system temporary error detected…… Switching to forced manual opening mode.
Hiss─! With the sound of compressed air escaping, the stubbornly sealed hatch finally slid open.
Inside lay a girl in an SF-style suit, her clear green hair cascading down, sleeping soundly as if oblivious to the world.
Gazing down at her peaceful slumber, I broke into a satisfied grin.
"Looks like you slept like a rock."
"Mmm..."
Maybe reacting to my offhand mutter, her eyelids fluttered faintly.
"Ugh... where...?"
"Hey, sleep well?"
She blinked groggily at my raspy greeting, her unfocused green eyes gradually sharpening on me. It didn't take long for those clear eyes to fully register my face—and the moment they did, the serene mood shattered.
"Kyaaah!! Who the hell are you?! A villain?!"
"Who're you calling a villain?!"
"What else would someone with a face that scary be?! Villain! Scumbag! Monster!!"
"You little brat?!"
I'd gone through hell to fish her out, and this was my thanks? Villain? Scumbag? Monster?! Who says that to someone's face right after waking up?! Sure, I knew my looks were rough around the edges, but judging me a villain on first sight was too much!
Sigh. Calm down, Kang Jinwoo. I didn't drag my ass all the way here just to bicker with this kid.
Right—I'd done all that heavy labor to pull her out for one reason: to make Nova the protagonist. And for that, I desperately needed this yapping brat's help.
"—Straight to the point, Makina."
"H-How do you know my name...?"
"Hand over the Core Relic."
"...What?"
Wariness flashed across Makina's face. Unlike her earlier flustered panic, she now huddled inside the capsule, glaring daggers at me.
"You... how do you know about that? No one in this era should know that name."
"Heh, I know way more than you think. Where you're from, why you were stuffed in this tin can—everything."
Makina: the girl who leaped back from a doomed future carrying the last hope. She resonates with a Core Relic and teams up with the protagonist—the chosen one—to defeat world-threatening villains. That's the gist of her arc in the original.
"...I don't know how you figured it out, but you think I'll just hand it over? This is for the hero who'll save the world. Not for a villain like you!"
True to form, she dug in her heels, refusing no matter what. Huddled tight in the capsule, her eyes burned with the grim resolve of someone bearing the future's weight.
Yeah, yeah, Makina. I get it from reading the original—the Core Relic is precious to you, worth your life to protect. But I'm not exactly swimming in free time to indulge your stubbornness.
I casually draped an arm over the capsule entrance and looked down at her lazily.
"Hand it over or not, you're about to lose it all anyway."
"What? What are you—huh?"
Before she could finish, an ominous vibration rumbled from behind her.
A low hum─ resonated, and the capsule's internal pressure surged wildly. The moment she turned with a puzzled frown—whoosh!—metallic objects burst forth, gleaming blindingly.
It happened so fast she couldn't react. They shot toward the narrow exit, aiming for the wide world outside.
"Not so fast."
But just before they could escape, I slammed the hatch shut—I'd been waiting right there.
Thud! The escape route was sealed tight.
"Phew. Cut that close."
Thankfully, none made it out. I'd known the ocean crash hadn't just fried the system but also damaged the storage unit—good thing, or it'd have played out like the original. Actually, since this was before the story even started, things might've gone even worse.
"Wh-what the—?! Why are they going berserk all of a sudden? I locked the storage fine—wait, why is it broken?! Stay still! Ack! Hey, not so wild in here! Ack! Ack! Aaaah, just calm down!!"
I'd averted disaster, but now the sealed capsule was a madhouse. The failed escapees were rampaging in the tight space, judging by the screams—it sounded like total chaos inside.
Eh, her fault for sloppy management. She can clean up her own mess.
At least it hadn't gone beyond salvageable—that was a miracle. Leaning against the outer wall, I took a breather with the frantic thuds as my soundtrack.
"Waaah! Don't hit the same spot again!! It hurts! It hurts so much!! Please calm down, guys!!"
Makina's whimpering echoed pitifully off the metal walls.
Sorry, kid. But if I open it now, those things'll bolt again. Suck it up for humanity's future.
How much time passed? As the racket died down and the mechanical noises faded, the hatch slid open smoothly.
"All done?"
"...Yeah."
Makina emerged, looking like she'd barely wrangled the scene. But man, she was a mess—bruises blooming everywhere, a huge lump on her head. Sounded worse inside than it had from out here.
"Hic..."
Tears welled in her eyes from the sore spots, but she was forcing them back, refusing to show weakness. It was kinda hilarious; I wanted to snap a pic, but that'd tank any goodwill I'd built. Instead, I gently placed a hand on her head and healed her with my ability.
"Huh? You have recovery powers?"
"Something like that."
"...Th-thanks for healing me..."
She'd been yapping about villains moments ago, but deep down, she was a sweet, easy kid.
"Now that the bruises are gone, shall we pick up where we left off?"
Back to business, and her face turned serious—though the sharp edge of her wariness had dulled a bit. Helping first really does wonders with people.