Right.

Most people wouldn't know what that was.

And honestly, even those who should've been familiar with it couldn't have possibly imagined that a certain overly concerned citizen would ever think of using it that way.

And yet, there he was, using an Underwater Pocket Dimension worth 200,000 CP as a glorified water tank.

Yes.

A pocket dimension.

In truth, the purchase hadn't been made lightly.

After learning how little was actually known about Zone Four's waters, Luca had grown increasingly anxious that they would miss something important about the sea.

What if there were resources—ahem, creatures—to study? What if there were things worth preserving for research or, well, potential farming?

Shouldn't there be a way to keep the mutated ones for observation later?

Of course, he couldn't just throw them into the dungeon space or the sanctuary without verifying if they were safe, but ignoring such possibilities? That would be criminal to science.

And so, the solution came to him, helpfully prompted by D-29, who had decided that achievements were a good way to distract from recent "minor" incidents.

"Host," D-29 had said, voice oddly chipper. "What about the other pocket dimensions you didn't purchase before?"

"!!!"

Yes. That was it!

In the brilliance (and mild insanity) that followed, Luca had skipped the cheaper 35,000 CP Catacomb Dimension and instead coughed up 200,000 CP and a handful of energy crystals for something grander.

It came with maybe an internal organ and a part of his soul as payment, but it had turned out to be a solid investment!

It's just that—well—how could he have predicted that the first time he'd actually use it would be for something like this?

__

The waters twisted.

A roar like a thousand storms tore through the air as the wall of water hurtled forward, crashing toward land—

—only for it to stop.

Or rather, bend in an odd torrent.

Before the eyes of the stunned soldiers, the waves warped. It was as if everything in front of them was being sucked in. The water behaved like a curtain being twisted, only to disappear into the tear in space, rather than bulldozing everything in its path. And in front of the giant crashing waves stood a mecha with white and gold wings, poised valiantly as if it were engulfing the tide.

Liquid and debris bent unnaturally, curling in on themselves like a whirlpool suspended in space.

Inside the cockpit, Luca's eyes glowed faintly, his focus unyielding as he and D-29 worked to pull the corruption that was mixed in with the waters entering the pocket dimension.

The mecha's systems thrummed together with Luca's heart. Because how fortunate was he to be greeted by CP right away?!

The portal expanded, and the current surged faster, funnelling thousands of tons of seawater into a void that wanted to drink the ocean whole.

But elsewhere, the world seemed to hold its breath.

Even the monsters stopped.

For a terrifying heartbeat, the battlefield went still—soldiers frozen mid-run, pilots staring at the impossible sight before them.

The tsunami had stopped.

No, not exactly. But somehow, they still hadn't been engulfed by the same tide that had already hit the other visible areas.

But then, as if their world was unpaused, the enormous, roaring sound of water hitting the other areas woke them up.

The farther ends of the wave still surged forward, smashing into trees, structures, and unfortunate beasts that weren't close enough to the unusual mecha. The ground trembled beneath the chaotic recoil.

Still, it was as if someone brought them time.

Then Nico's voice shattered the trance.

"Everyone, move! Take the high ground while you still can! Grab whoever you can and go!"

It snapped the soldiers back into motion.

But it was easier said than done.

Countless mechas were half-destroyed, scattered across the terrain. Pilots inside shouted for help, trapped under rubble or worse, mutated creatures. Others tried to push their damaged units forward, their spiritual energy flaring faintly—an act of desperation more than strength.

They tried to channel energy into their mechas as if by instinct, to force the systems to respond, but their mechas were manual ones. And with fried circuits and cut limbs, the machines would groan but wouldn't move.

It was useless. Devastating.

That even with all their skill, they were helpless against mechanical failure.

Just like in one corner of the battlefield.

"Nooo! You idiot!"

The scream tore through the comms, raw and desperate.

All around them, the battlefield was in chaos as water from both sides loomed closer.

The good news was that it wasn't the same blanket of water that nearly covered the sky.

The bad news, however, was that the ground shook under the pounding of monstrous claws, and the air was thick with smoke, sparks, and the scent of despair as both monsters and humans realized that the earlier solution was rather temporary.

Water would surge from the sides, flooding the terrain in unpredictable waves, carrying who knows what kind of debris.

Corruption? Structures? Monsters?

And it was the realization that had two soldiers scrambling for dear life.

Inside his battered cockpit, Sam's breathing came in short bursts. His light-class mecha was barely holding together, its armor cracked, the thrusters sputtering. Sparks flickered on his display every few seconds.

"Marco, hang on! Don't you dare do something stupid! You just said you were transferring to logistics, damn you!"

Across the visual feed, the heavy mecha—Marco's—hovered low above the ground, its thrusters sputtering as it tried to keep balance while shielding Sam's smaller frame. The plating on Marco's shoulder was torn open, one leg already half-detached and dragging uselessly. Steam hissed from its joints like a dying animal.

They had been defending Outpost Four since the initial outbreak, managing to survive long enough for the rescuers to arrive. But just when they thought they were saved, the tsunami came, heightening the monster's restlessness.

But even battered and struggling, the two were sensitive to changes and followed the orders to evacuate to higher ground. Which wouldn't have been difficult had they been able to fly as usual.

Because now, they weren't exactly flying high—couldn't, even if they wanted to. The light mecha's flight stabilizers were damaged, and with the weight of a damaged heavy mecha, Sam was barely keeping them both aloft.

Below, the monsters surged upward in packs, claws and fangs snapping through the rising dust. Some managed to leap high enough to latch onto Marco's mecha, their limbs clinging like parasites.

"Get them off!" Marco shouted, firing what few rounds he had left. But the gun sputtered empty, and the swarm didn't stop.

Sam gritted his teeth, raising his weapon and slamming its butt against the monsters clinging to Marco's legs. "I'm trying!"

Out of ammo and desperate to conserve energy for their escape, all he had left was sheer desperation. Each blow knocked one creature off, but three more took its place, dragging them lower.

Marco realized it then—how bad it really was.

"Sam," he said quietly, the calm in his voice cutting through the chaos. "You can't carry both of us. Let me go."

"Don't start with that!" Sam barked, panic rising.

"It's not a choice anymore," Marco said, gripping the controls tightly. "If you stay, neither of us will make it."

"Shut up, you're not—!"

"Too late for that," Marco said, his voice strained but still carrying that familiar teasing warmth. "Get moving, you nitwit. You can still make it."

"Like hell I can!" Sam shouted, jerking the controls. His mecha lurched forward, trying to pull the larger one upright. "You're not dying here! I can drag you!"

But Marco had already made his decision.

He overloaded his thrusters in a short burst, jerking free of Sam's grasp. The heavy mecha dropped several meters, immediately swarmed by monsters from below.

"Marco! No!"

"Go! Get out while you can!" Marco shouted, voice steady even as the radar screamed red.

"We promised to hand over the letters, remember?" Marco said with a laugh that sounded too much like a goodbye. "One of us has to make it out."

"Marco, you idiot!" Sam's voice cracked. "You can't—"

The monsters surged up again, dragging the heavy mecha down, and with one final push, Sam's light mecha shot upward—barely clearing the wave of claws that reached for him.

And then, below him, a giant claw pierced through Marco's back.

Sam screamed. "Nooo! You idiot!"

The comms filled with shouts, panic, and the static of gunfire. But before despair could settle, the monsters swarming Marco suddenly froze.

Their heads burst apart, one after another, as invisible shots ripped through them in rapid succession.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Suddenly, after what felt like soundless popping, came the thud of bodies falling on top of each other.

Sam stared, wide-eyed, unaware that from a much farther corner, one mecha was already hauling another while firing at monsters.

Each hit went undetected, only showing up upon impact.

But more than that, each hit brought someone just a little bit more time.