"Feel free to customize your mecha," the guidance system announced, pulling up the mecha crafting interface. Yuka glanced over it and started by picking out the color for her mecha.
"Black, please," Yuka commanded aloud.
But her butler had other ideas. "Pink! It's gotta be pink!" it insisted, throwing a digital tantrum in Yuka's mind, almost as if it would burst into tears if she didn't agree.
Yuka sighed. Arguing with an AI was pointless.
With a reluctant swipe, Yuka switched the mecha's color to pink and then opted for a smaller model. When it came to weaponry, she hesitated before installing firepower on the right arm.
The left arm, she left mostly unaltered. After all, with Oniyon's psychic power control, it could morph into any weapon she desired. But to throw off any potential enemies, she picked a metallic whip from the arsenal and then hopped into the mecha's cockpit, selecting the "Arena Match" option.
