Tomi stood alone in the mecha storage room, surrounded by dim lights and hovering holograms, each one scanning the towering machines for the first mission with his new team.
The hum of technology filled the air, a low mechanical murmur that vibrated through the floor beneath his feet.
He glanced at the massive Light Lancer mecha before him, its armor gleaming under the faint glow of the facility's overhead lights.
Above it, a holographic display pulsed, checking the status of every system with cold precision.
As his gaze locked onto the glowing blue eye of the mecha, a chill ran down his spine.
The sharp glow reminded him of Tristan—the one from his nightmares.
His breath hitched, and his heart pounded as fear gripped him, his eyes widening in disbelief.
The vision of that haunting, ice-blue stare lingered, seeping into the present, blurring the line between memory and reality.
Then, out of nowhere, a voice broke through the tension. It was calm, and smooth, yet carried a hint of cold amusement.
"Well, seems like we have a newbie here…" The voice echoed, its casual tone unsettling in the otherwise silent room. Tomi's body tensed.
Before he could react, a hand gripped his shoulder. The touch sent a jolt of shock through him, and he whirled around, eyes wide in alarm. How had he not noticed anyone approaching?
"Don't worry," the voice continued with nonchalant confidence. "With my expertise, helping you out is a piece of cake."
"Hey! Get off me!" Tomi snapped, his fear turning quickly into anger.
He shoved the hand away, his pulse still racing, adrenaline making his voice sharp. He spun to face the intruder—a boy his age, dark-skinned, with an easy smirk that didn't match the icy gaze in his ocean-blue eyes.
His silky black hair, neat and straight, brushed the back of his neck, while long bangs swept across his forehead, framing his face with careless elegance.
"You seem grumpy," the boy said, releasing Tomi with a chuckle, his smirk never fading.
Tomi glared, the weight of unease still clinging to him.
"Anyway, the name's Blaze," the boy added, his tone light as he extended a hand. "And you?"
"Like I care." Tomi shot back, his voice dripping with irritation.
He crossed his arms, glaring at Blaze as if the boy's mere presence was an offense.
From behind, another voice chimed in, this one calm and laced with sarcasm. "That's a strong implication that he doesn't like you."
Blaze's smirk faltered for a second, and his gaze shifted, eyes narrowing in frustration.
"And who asked you to butt in, joker?" Blaze snapped, his annoyance palpable.
The newcomer strolled into view, his pale skin almost glowing in the dim light of the storage room.
Snowy white hair fell messily over his forehead, contrasting sharply with the amber pupils that locked onto Blaze with quiet amusement.
He moved with an unhurried grace, completely unfazed by Blaze's anger.
"Zane," Blaze muttered, his jaw tightening.
Zane's calm expression remained unchanged as he glanced between Tomi and Blaze, then shrugged, as if the whole situation was beneath him. "Well, I guess no one asked."
Tomi stood by, arms crossed, his eyes glazing over with disinterest as the tension between Blaze and Zane escalated.
The two boys were glaring at each other now, their exchange a blend of biting words and barely-contained tempers.
Blaze's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched.
"You know what, Zane? Your stuck-up attitude annoys everyone," he snapped, voice dripping with frustration.
His fists balled at his sides, visibly irritated that Zane had interrupted his conversation with Tomi.
Zane, in contrast, remained perfectly calm, his posture relaxed. He tilted his head slightly, his amber eyes cool and detached.
"Well, my dear friend," Zane replied, the calm in his voice almost taunting, "your goofy personality makes most people want to smack you."
Blaze's expression darkened, a sharp chill in his eyes.
"Who the hell are you calling your friend, joker?" he spat, his voice lowering to a cold growl.
Tomi, still watching with growing irritation, had just about enough of their nonsense.
He shifted his weight and began to turn toward the Light Lancer mecha that Gina had assigned him for the mission.
But before he could fully disengage, a loud voice cut through the tension—a voice he recognized all too well.
"How about you two stop clowning around and get ready already!" Layla's voice boomed across the room, sharp and commanding.
Tomi's gaze snapped to Layla as she strode in, her presence like a lightning bolt.
Their eyes met, and Tomi's expression soured instantly. He could still feel the sting of her pulling him forcefully onto the bed from their last encounter, and the memory only deepened his frown.
Before he could dwell on it, Blaze and Zane simultaneously barked back at Layla.
"Who the hell are you to give orders, Layla?!" they both shouted, voices overlapping in their irritation.
"Geez, calm down, you two. It's not that deep," came another voice, softer but cutting through the noise as Arande walked in behind Layla.
Her stride was easy, unbothered as if the tension in the room barely registered with her.
She flashed a casual smile.
"She's right, you know. The captain could walk in at any moment and smoke us all." Arande's eyes swept the room before they landed on Tomi, standing by the mecha. Her smile widened.
Before anyone else could respond, Blaze shot a glare toward Arande.
"You shut it," he muttered.
"No one cares. Besides, he isn't coming with us on this mission." Blaze gestured toward Tomi, his tone dismissive, but his eyes flickered with something sharper as he watched Arande approach Tomi.
Arande, still smiling, moved toward Tomi with a certain playfulness in her step.
The glint in her eyes suggested she enjoyed the tension in the room, thriving off the disarray of personalities clashing around her.
"Well, looks like we're in for a fun mission," she said, her tone light as she closed the distance between them.
Tomi's eyes flicked from one person to the next, his irritation growing as he watched the chaotic scene unfold.
Blaze, Zane, Arande, and Layla—all their personalities clashing in ways that only deepened his desire to be anywhere else.
But suddenly, as if drawn by some unspoken cue, all four of them turned their attention directly toward him.
"Here we go again," Zane muttered, his voice as calm as ever, though his eyes flickered with mild exasperation.
He was well aware of Arande's tendency to cling to people, her strange habit of latching onto the newest face in the room.
Before Tomi could react, another voice cut through the tension—sharp, mocking.
"Looks like he's your new victim, Money Enthusiast." The door hissed open, and Jean stepped into the room.
His light skin contrasted with the dark purple of his hair, the silver pupils of his eyes catching the light. His mecha pilot suit—white with dark purple stripes—gave him a sleek, almost dangerous edge as he leaned casually against the doorframe.
"Quiet down, you… so annoying," Arande snapped, throwing Jean a sideways glance before quickly shifting her focus back to Tomi.
"Anyway—hey, I'm Arande, nice to meet you!" she said with a bright smile, her voice almost too cheerful.
She rushed toward him, arms outstretched as if ready to embrace him like a long-lost friend.
Tomi's reaction was immediate and precise. He sidestepped her without effort, his movements fluid and calculated.
"Don't come close to me, if you know what's good for you," he growled, his voice laced with a cold, sinister edge that made Arande pause mid-step.
His eyes, narrowed and sharp, carried an unfriendly warning.
Layla, sucking on her lollipop with an air of casual indifference, chimed in.
"Arande, let him be. He hates being touched." Her tone was flat, as if she couldn't care less but knew when to call off her overly affectionate teammate.
Arande pouted, her lips forming a small, exaggerated frown as she backed off slightly.
"Well, that's no fun," she complained, her eyes still fixated on Tomi's cold expression.
She sighed dramatically as if his refusal to engage with her was the greatest tragedy of the day.
Tomi's frown deepened, his frustration mounting. What's wrong with these people? he thought, feeling his patience thinning.
He glanced around the room, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He didn't want their friendship, their games, or their strange energy.