CHAPTER 23: CH-23 I ASSUME YOU’RE HIS WIFE?

That changed everything.

Kevin’s brows furrowed deeper. The concept wasn’t just extreme—it was paradigm-shifting. But more than that, it raised a logical contradiction in his mind.

He narrowed his eyes and spoke carefully.

"Another universe? Then how could you know we don’t belong to this one either? Unless... you’ve been here for a long time and learned about us."

But even as he said it, Kevin shook his head."No. That doesn’t add up. Maybe I’m overthinking this."

He exhaled, dismissing the tangent from his mind. He refocused, his voice now direct.

"Please, Mr. William. Just answer the question I asked you earlier."

William smiled, almost casually.

"Oh, that?"He leaned forward slightly."That’s simple, Admiral Kevin."

Kevin’s expression tightened. His name.

He hadn’t introduced himself during this transmission.

His memory was sharp, and he was sure of that. So—how did this man know his name?

His suspicion flared, but before he could voice it, William caught the shift in his expression and chuckled lightly.

"Ah, you figured it out. Let me just say it before you start speculating—yes, I scanned your flagship a little while ago. Just as your fleet is currently scanning mine. That’s how I pulled up your name and some basic command data."

Kevin clenched his jaw slightly. William’s honesty made the admission even more unnerving.

Before he could respond, the command deck of the Pegasus rocked violently. The tremor shook through the deck plating, throwing several officers slightly off balance. Kevin instinctively grabbed the edge of the command table to steady himself.

"Status report!" he barked.

Vice Admiral Reynar, standing just behind him, responded sharply.

"Sir—our flagship is being directly targeted by the Insectoid Hive Mother Ship. The Hive Mind itself appears to be focusing fire."He paused, glancing at the fluctuating displays."Our shield integrity just dropped to 58%. If we take another hit like that, we’ll lose shielding altogether. Hull damage will be unavoidable."

But before he could finish—

A new voice cut in smoothly.

"And your flagship isn’t heavily armored, is it?"

All eyes turned toward the hologram.

Elsa.

She had remained silent since the transmission began—but now, her voice carried an effortless confidence that silenced the room.

"Resource constraints," she added with a faint, knowing smile. "You’re relying on energy shields and system efficiency rather than thick hull plating. Am I correct, Vice Admiral?"

Reynar looked stunned but didn’t deny it.

Kevin responded instead, keeping his tone even.

"Indeed... you’re correct, Miss Velehart."He gestured subtly toward William."I assume you’re his wife?"

Elsa blushed softly at Kevin’s comment, but said nothing.

William, on the other hand, noticed her reaction—and smirked.He could tell she wasn’t displeased, so... why not let the misunderstanding continue?

Besides, he was already cooking up an idea of his own.

He casually nodded at Kevin’s gesture.

"Indeed, she is."

The words hung in the air, letting the assumption settle like a quiet ripple through the comm feed. Neither Elsa nor William elaborated.

But William’s tone turned serious again.

"That aside, Admiral... we can discuss introductions and intentions later. Right now—"His expression hardened. "Let me help you. Because if we waste time talking, your losses will only grow."

His eyes glanced off-screen, scanning data feeds from Ascendancy. "Especially those T-5 class mechas... and your two ace pilots. They’re nearly exhausted."

Battlefield, Frontline Mecha Units

The twin ace pilots were reaching their limits.

The first, piloting the Sword-type Dominator Class, had activated full domain earlier in the fight. But now, his once-blinding speed had dulled. Sluggish swings. Weakened shielding. Even T-4 class artillery was beginning to land direct hits. The once-dazzling dominator—who had carved through the battlefield like a living storm—was visibly slowing.

The second ace mech, in artillery configuration, had started the battle by launching precise, deadly salvos—devastating multiple insectoid mother-ships in mere minutes.

Now?

Shots were starting to miss.The main barrel cannon was firing slower—its once-pristine accuracy now merely acceptable. The energy signature showed signs of overheat, and the pilot’s neural link had begun to falter from strain.

Both aces were nearing collapse. And Kevin knew it.

Back aboard the Pegasus, Admiral Kevin stood silent, watching the live feed flicker across the command holotable.

He knew.He felt it.They were only barely holding on.

In a few more minutes, they’d be overrun.

No reinforcements. No miracles on the horizon.Except... the wildcard now standing before him.

With resolve firming in his eyes, he turned back toward William’s holographic image. Countless thoughts clashed within his mind—duty, caution, pride, fear, and the desire to survive.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, Kevin bowed his head slightly.

"Mr. William," he began, his voice heavy but sincere,"Let me be honest—I still don’t trust you. Not fully. Not yet."

He looked up, meeting William’s gaze through the projection."But I also see that you have no intention of harming us. At least... not right now. And that’s something I can accept."

His fists clenched at his sides.

"The situation of my fleet is... saying it’s ’bad’ would be shameless understatement. Refusing your help would not only be foolish—it would be a betrayal of every life under my command."

A long breath. His voice softened but didn’t waver.

"So I ask you—not as a fellow human. But as someone who may just be our last hope in this cursed moment—Please... help us get through this."

He bowed again.

William’s expression was stern and unwavering as he answered.

"There’s no need to bow like that, Fleet Admiral. I would’ve helped anyway. That’s why I came."

His voice was calm but carried unmistakable weight.

"And honestly, it’ll be easy enough for me to do so. But..."He leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp."There’s one condition, Admiral—you’ll have to follow my command structure, at least partially. Can you do that?"

Fleet Admiral Kevin blinked in surprise.

A condition?

But he didn’t hesitate long. His pride flared for a second, but logic crushed it just as quickly. If this William truly held the power he hinted at... and meant to help... then there was no harm in cooperating—as long as his people weren’t sacrificed.

"You have my word, Mr. William," Kevin said slowly, "On one condition in return—don’t use my people as pawns. I won’t tolerate that."

William offered a small, reassuring smile.

"I have no such intention, Admiral. You’ll see that soon enough."

Then his voice turned crisp and commanding.

"My first order—pull your forward mecha units back immediately. Have your support fleet provide sufficient suppressing fire to cover their retreat. We’ll make sure not a single unit is lost."

Admiral Kevin raised a brow in surprise. But... he didn’t argue.

He turned to his fleet’s communication officers.

"Broadcast to all forward mecha units: prepare for immediate tactical retreat in ten seconds!"

His voice was firm, unwavering.Then, he opened a direct comm line.

"Saint Maximus," he said, addressing the Dominator-class pilot with deep respect, "we need you to hold the front. Delay the enemy just long enough for our forward units to withdraw safely. You’ll be the anchor."

A deep, resolute voice came through the comms—powerful and commanding.

"Understood, Fleet Admiral. I’ve received your orders and I will carry them out without fail."

Every officer on the bridge stood a little straighter at that voice. Saint Maximus was a legend among them. Just hearing him speak brought confidence to the entire fleet.

Kevin nodded in gratitude."Thank you, Saint."

He quickly switched channels again.

"Saint Emma," he called.

A bright, determined voice replied instantly.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"You and the rest of the fleet will provide full suppressive fire—create a barrier so the retreating mechas aren’t targeted. Also, give Saint Maximus cover. We don’t want him diverting more energy than necessary."

"Got it," Emma replied, voice clear and sharp as crystal."I’ll keep the pressure up. They’ll never even look at our backs."

By now, seven seconds had passed.

Kevin stood tall at the center of his command bridge.His eyes scanned the countdown.

"Retreat in... 3... 2... 1—now!"

Upon receiving the retreat order, the remaining forward force—nearly 6,000 advanced mechas out of the original 8,000—surged with a final burst of energy.

Every pilot, many drained to their limits, summoned the last of their willpower. The air around them shimmered with overclocked mana cores, neural link strain, and sheer resolve.

With synchronized precision, the mechas cut through the dense enemy formation, breaking free from entanglements and skirmishes as they began a rapid tactical withdrawal. Explosions burst behind them, flashes of insectoid limbs being severed mid-lunge.

Then—

A barrage of covering fire lit up the darkness.

The main fleet—acting under Admiral Kevin’s command—unleashed a wall of suppression fire, targeting the insectoid motherships with ruthless efficiency. Waves of plasma, railguns, and high-caliber antimatter shells tore through the space between retreating units and their alien pursuers.

The impact was immediate.

Several insectoid warforms reeled or exploded outright, giving the mecha squads just enough breathing room to complete their retreat in perfect formation.

And amidst the retreating forces, one stood behind—alone yet unyielding.

Saint Maximus.