The Miracle in the Sealed Chamber
1st floor of a commercial building in a secret spot on Kikiwai Island. A perfectly sealed sterile space where only filtered air could pass without the administrator's permission. Even sunlight's UV rays were screened out by special film on the windows. In this space, tiny lives too small for the naked eye of any standard-sized intelligent being were bustling about.
Visible only under ultra-high-performance microscopes, they had built their own production facility within the cramped storefront. No dust particle here was smaller than the Nanoi workers. Without the electrostatic net that Kim Jian had helped install beforehand, stray dust from the factory building would have caused mass casualties.
"Operation section check complete."
"Good. Confirm the monatomic gold reactor's cooling status."
In less than a week, the factory was up and running, busily finishing production preparations.
"Prototype exterior armor fabrication process 89% complete!"
"Too slow! Deployment's tomorrow—we won't have time for testing!"
"We'll hurry! We'll prepare for durability checks within 14 hours!"
"10 hours! I won't wait longer!"
"Yes, Doctor!"
Under Dr. Levi Sau's command, the site hummed with frantic activity. The Colossus Robotics staff pushed beyond their limits, pouring body and soul into the work. Just as the pilots endured grueling training, those building the Colossus they would pilot gave everything they had.
"Reactor transplant complete. Test operation commencing. All staff near the reactor, secure a safe distance immediately."
Confirming that the workers in the test room visible beyond the reinforced glass had evacuated, the operator flipped the switch.
-Whirr!!
The eyes of the prototype Colossus— a colossal robot the size of a 6-2 dimension intelligent being's palm, lying on the floor—lit up.
"Energy efficiency nominal. No damage detected in the monatomic gold."
"I was worried it'd blow and take the factory with it, but we broke through at 31.0477%."
"What do you mean?"
"What else? We had a 68.9523% chance of dying."
"...You didn't tell us the odds were that low?"
"You wouldn't have done it if you knew."
The operator suddenly remembered: Dr. Sau often visited legal casinos to relieve stress.
"Then why mention it now?"
"I figured you should know."
"......"
"It worked, didn't it? What's the problem?"
The operator shook their head and dove back into work.
The power source realizing the catalog specs of this ultra-high-performance prototype was a special gold produced only in Nanoi: monatomic gold. In particular, the one embedded inside was a special reactor transplanted from a massive airship's power source.
The airship's monatomic gold held more than enough energy for one Colossus, but there was no other way to demonstrate maximum performance. Monatomic gold required special storage; transferring it from one reactor to another risked degradation.
Success in this transplant was nothing short of a miracle born from Dr. Sau's meticulous care. Naturally, the airship was now scrap without its power source. If they didn't win the war, they'd never fly it again—a true do-or-die gamble.
"Virtual neural network sync function ready!"
"We need to check the stimuli on the pilot's brain. Run the shock signal simulation now."
"Activating backup neuron network in the neural computer. Similarity to actual brain: over 99.8%."
"Set threshold to maximum."
"Maximum? That's beyond what a normal person can—"
"Afro Sass can handle it."
The operator working nearby fell silent at Dr. Sau's curt words.
"Can he really endure it?"
"If not, he'll die."
"......"
"Then it won't be a match."
"...Isn't that a bit harsh? He's not your son."
"As long as he's not my man."
"......"
"Kidding. Afro can do it."
"True, with his skills."
The operator nodded, recalling the day they observed Afro's training.
"In real combat, slow reactions mean death anyway. If he wants to boost survival odds despite the pain, this is best."
Dr. Sau turned away sharply after speaking. Her face showed no emotion, but the operator—longtime colleague and like a little sister—caught the subtle shift.
"Doctor. You're worried, aren't you?"
"Why would I be? Colossus is perfect. They'll win for sure."
"Sis."
"...Don't call me that here."
"You're scared the pilots might die?"
"......"
Dr. Sau couldn't respond. As the planetary council's proxy with full authority, she had decided to send these young space force pilots—barely different in age—into the meat grinder. Soldiers went to war, sure, but watching their backs as they left didn't sit easy.
All she could do was max out the machines' performance. Help as many as possible return home alive. That was her job.
"If not for the signal jamming, we wouldn't need pilots aboard. But what can you do? It's war."
The operator bowed their head at her meaningful words.
Just as she said, the Nanoi were at war. Against monsters destroying their world. Against those sacrificing Nanoi to save their own.
"What can I do? I'll shoulder it all."
Dr. Sau had turned away, but the operator saw her reflection in the opposite glass wall. Her eyes, like a dam on the verge of collapse, threatened to spill over.
Too heavy a burden for one woman in her mid-20s. Feeling powerless to share it, the operator just hunched their shoulders silently.
Watching others sacrifice from the sidelines—that was their role, and it left them utterly helpless.
<Dr. Sau. Your mic's still on.>
Right then, a familiar voice came over the speaker. Kim Jian, the 3-1 dimension banker who'd persuaded Dr. Sau at the hotel.
She'd apparently left the comm channel open amid the rush.
"I-I'll cut it now. Sorry."
<Wait a sec.>
The startled operator reached to disconnect, but Dr. Sau stopped them upon hearing Kim Jian.
<Nothing major—just a proposal I'd like to make.>
"What is it?"
<It ties right into what you were just saying, Doctor.>
"......?!"
<Signal jamming blocks remote control, so you're putting pilots directly in the Colossus, right?>
With a voice that put listeners at ease, Kim Jian slowly explained his preparations.
"...Yes. I'll take it. Whatever it takes, we'll be ready by tomorrow."
After hearing him out fully.
"Thank you... Jian."
Dr. Sau burst into the tears she'd been holding back.
* * *
Civilian. Light of my life, fire in my body.
My sin, my soul.
Civ-il-ian.
The tip of his tongue walks three steps along the roof of his mouth, tapping the front teeth. Civ. Il. Ian.
Born into the world with no money or connections, bank balance under 200,000 gulden—he was a plain min, a commoner.
At home, a filial son. In his unit, a lieutenant. Official name: Afro Sass.
But upon discharge, returning to family arms, he was always a civilian.
"Sir! Lieutenant Afro Sass, honorably completing service and discharging today!"
Thanks to Dr. Sau's bold decision, he'd gone from son of the nation to son of the Sass family in a single day. Overwhelmed, he broke down crying before the camera.
The secret discharge ceremony. The video letter for his family couldn't yet be sent to his Nanoi homeworld. Communications between Nanoi and other dimensions were jammed.
To prevent locals' plight from reaching civilians, interdimensional channels faced constant jamming.
Culprits: Hardliners in various nations aiming to erase all risks by wiping out Dimension 0-1's solar system and space monsters at once.
Thus, Afro and the other pilots recorded dual video letters.
One: For if they heroically perished fighting space monsters, to be sent to family and friends.
The other: To bring home with news of victory.
In the first case, if the planet blew, there'd be no loved ones left to watch. Knowing this, the pilots recorded both with heavy hearts.
"Hey. Long time no see. If you're watching this, I'm probably—"
Afro poured his heart into the video letter for his fiancée. A message that might deliver for him if he turned to cosmic dust.
Of course, he wanted to embrace her in healthy flesh, not send some short clip. Say "I love you" again.
After enlisting as an officer to pay family debts, training kept him too busy to see her much.
They'd scraped together rare annual leave for a trip, but even that joy was postponed by the space monster invasion.
Unless exterminated, Nanoi and its solar system would live under constant annihilation threat.
Now a civilian, not soldier, Afro still bore duty as a selected pilot.
Of course, no coercion—it was his volunteered mission.
He believed he could do anything to protect family and love.
As lifelines in this death brush, the "veterans" of this war were promised benefits: Post-war discharge support from Nanoi planetary government, military pensions, preferential loans. Or stay and fast-track promotions.
"......"
The battlefield, closest to death, was also where soldiers honed over years proved their worth.
Afro felt deep down: His life was made for this fight.
Fear, and emotions rising against it.
"Now I kinda get—"
Realizing half-spoken words slipped out, Afro clamped his mouth.
"...I get it now."
His acting teacher of the past week stressed one point: Reclaim emotions suppressed by uniform and discipline, and how to express them.
The military demanded machine-like unity on command; discipline was etched into Afro Sass's bones.
Narrow bunk, low ceiling, boots ever-ready for call-up. Life: Controlled space, assigned tasks, steady execution.
But the man who'd spent years as space force officer, fixated on obedience...
Now drowned in intense feelings unknown in service.
Rage at monsters trampling Nanoi.
Yearning to protect the precious.
Pride in training-honed skills.
Burden of all he carried.
Terror to carry till deployment.
And exaltation surpassing it all.
-Thump.
23 hours till live test.
Leaping into space rife with perils—why this thrill?
Maybe die...
Maybe vanish without a speck for lover, family...
-Clench.
Afro's fist tightened. Undeniable: He was thrilled.
Felt born for this moment.
Chance to rip apart the vile beings tormenting the solar system—with his hands.
Blood boiling through veins. Cells awakening to raw life.
Now, he could. No need for berserk drugs.
Like protagonists from 3-1 media he'd studied under acting guidance.
Roaring fervor, diving into space monster hordes.
"Huff... huff..."
Heat surging from every pore.
No need to act another. Unleash this in the cockpit.
Survive the test, upload the video.
To watchers in other dimensions, this earnestness would reach.
"I can do it."
Nanoi would be saved.
-Whirr!
Then it came: Afro's comm terminal receiving signal.
-Beep.
<Lt. Afro. Or Mr. Afro from today.>
"Dr. Sau?"
<Please listen—important news.>
The content that followed was beyond Afro's wildest imagination.