Having a gun pointed at us upon entry, Eva froze for a moment, then floated like a ghost directly behind me. This girl—she was casually using me as a meat shield in case things went south, wasn't she?!
Still, I focused on the matter at hand, raising my arms—still holding the shield—in the air and offering the soldier my most cordial smile, hoping to diffuse the tension.
"We're not enemies," I said in a calm, audible voice. "We're mercenaries, here at the request of Lady Mercy Greenwood." I paused, gesturing to myself. "If you doubt my words, perhaps you'll recognize my name and face. I'm Gerard Astoria, the sole heir of the Astoria Conglomerate."
"Gerard Astoria...?" the soldier repeated, his voice laced with disbelief.
However, instead of easing his pose, his grip on the blaster tightened. "If you were truly that heartless, evil bastard, I'd already be dead from pointing a blaster at you. You chose the wrong person to impersonate, pal!"
'Gerard, you infamous devil...!'
"Pff...!"
From behind me, I heard Eva stifling a laugh. That traitor! Even she found my predicament funny! And to think I had just boasted about me having a "face pass" everywhere I went. This was karma, wasn't it?
"A-Anyway!" I said hastily, my composure cracking just slightly. "I'm telling the truth! If you don't believe me, want to see my Mercenary ID?!"
"... No." After a brief pause, the soldier finally lowered his weapon, though he didn't holster it. "It seems like you two don't mean any harm. Follow me; I'll take you to the Major."
Relieved but still cautious, I kept my arms raised and moved forward slowly. The last thing I wanted was to provoke him further. Although I had shields with me, I did not want to risk having a new breathing hole through my chest.
Eva followed, sticking to my back so tightly that it was like we were stuck together by some sort of magnetic force. She positioned herself too strategically, out of the soldier's line of fire, and used me as a shield to protect herself.
This girl! She really went all out with this human shield tactic! Just wait—I'd definitely deduct some kind of inconvenience fee from her share after this.
Next thing I knew, we were standing in front of the soldier, with Eva now somehow "leading" the way. She was being unreasonably thorough, even refusing to let me pull her back behind me, and using her shield to block the entire path.
"Go straight ahead and take the stairs leading up," ordered the soldier sharply, but calmly, not minding our defensive actions.
As we walked forward, the dark corridor proved my assumption right; the Del Pravvio's generators were still dead. From the ship's personnel's state—having just woken up from petrification—it should be about another ten minutes before all the systems could boot up completely. Only phosphorescent guide markers lining the walls illuminated our way, pale green light casting a surreal glow all around us.
The soldier followed us, leading from the rear—it sounded weird, but that's how it was.
We climbed up a long flight of stairs, a short, three-minute trip. After reaching the top, we found ourselves standing at the end of a long, straight passageway. I recognized where we were immediately by the layout—it was the passageway that led directly to the ship's bridge.
We moved down the long hallway in silence, our footfalls echoing ominously. There were no other sounds in the passageway—making the grim scene before us much worse.
The floor was covered with bodies, mangled, dismembered, and "fresh."
"..."
The stench was too strong it was nauseating, but I bit my lip hard, swallowing the bile rising in my throat. It wasn't time to show weakness, especially after being humiliated for not being recognized by that damned soldier behind us.
Doing my best to ignore the "red carpet" spread across the floor, I focused on the end of the passage. Soon, we reached the bridge.
The entrance stood wide open, thankfully, sparing us the effort of figuring out how to budge a five-meter-tall block of metal without electricity. But as bad as the corridor had been, the scene inside the bridge was worse.
Bodies were scattered all about the room as blood collected into puddles. The air was heavy with an iron scent—one could hardly help focusing on the stench of death around.
"Ugh! Urp...!" Eva, who until then could bottle it in, finally ran to a nearby corner of the bridge and barfed.
Even I was similarly overcome by the urge, although I steeled my resolve and forced it back—partly because of the familiar figure seated center-stage on the bridge. His pale skin made a jarring contrast with his blood-red surroundings. His eyes were a verdant green, and his silky blonde hair fell past his shoulders; combining all that and adding his long, sharp ears undeniably marked him as a space elf.
But what really struck me was the uncanny resemblance he bore to Mercy.
"Greetings, Major Terrence," I said, my voice steady despite the sight before me.
I knew it was him immediately. His appearance matched exactly what I remembered from the game, down to the detail of his injury—both legs lost from petrification. There was no mistaking it.
Though he could not swivel his chair without assistance, Major Terrence turned his head to steal a glance at me. His bright green eyes widened with shock before he narrowed them in confusion.
"This voice... that face... Are you Gerard Astoria, perhaps?" he asked with a skeptical tone. "But no... there's no way that brat could act this calm and collected. And well-mannered, too..."
As expected, Gerard's bad reputation was dragging me down even here. Thankfully, it seemed Major Terrence was at least acquainted with Gerard on a personal basis. With this, one of my earlier worries—the white lie I'd told Mercy about knowing her father—was resolved.
I turned off the shields and flung both arms wide in an exaggerated shrug, motioning to the scene around us that was blood-soaked. "As much as I would love to explain what happened to me, I don't think now's the best time for that," I said.
Terrence's expression changed; a flicker of worry in his gaze followed before settling into a heavy sigh. "... True. First, we have to reverse the petrification on everybody—except for the traitors."
"Traitors?" I said, cocking my head to one side in feigned puzzlement. My voice carried just enough shock to ring with sincerity. "Wait—are you saying the fleet's petrification wasn't an accident?!"
From the corner of my eye, I saw Eva shoot me a pointed look that screamed, 'What the hell are you blabbering about?' She knew I already had foreknowledge of the traitors. But explaining that to Major Terrence now would only complicate matters and raise unnecessary suspicions.
"It's unbelievable, I know," Terrence said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "But I already have a conviction as to the mastermind's identity, so there's no need to interrogate the traitors."
I nodded. "Understood. However, we'll still need to bring them back as evidence. Keeping them petrified for the journey would ensure they arrive alive—and keep us safer, too."
"Agreed." He shifted slightly in his seat, wincing as he adjusted his posture. Then his tone shifted, curious and sharp. "But what is the Astoria scion doing out here in this unexplored corner of the galaxy?"
"Ah, I came at your daughter's request," I said. "Lady Mercy was concerned about your disappearance—after all, you've been missing for nearly four months."
"Four months." Terrence slumped back in his chair, the weight of those words settling over him. His face went pale, and his eyes grew red with fatigue, etched into every line.
"If you had arrived another month later, the survival rate of my fleet would have been abysmal."
Inwardly, I winced. If only we hadn't had to make so many stopovers—with all those events happening along the way—we might have gotten here two weeks sooner, saving even more of his people. I peeked over at Eva, whose glare was hot enough to cut glass.
For a moment, she seemed fixated on muttering a few curses my way—but she was still busy unloading the nutrient pack she had for lunch a few hours earlier, keeping her mouth occupied.
As Terrence lapsed into thought, the ship's dim lights flickered on. The hum of the engines vibrated through the floor—a reassuring indicator that the generators were finally functional. With power back online, the next step was to depetrify their allies and leave, avoiding any unnecessary interaction with the traitors. Everything was falling into place.
Or so I thought.
"M-Major! There's an emergency! I need to speak with you!"
I turned to see a soldier stumbling toward us. His body was covered in lacerations, not from combat, but from the fractures caused by his petrification. In his state, he wouldn't last long without proper medical attention.
"Young Master Gerard," Major Terrence whispered weakly, with pain obvious in his tone, "Can you help me turn my chair around? I need to see his face."
"Of course."
It wasn't much of a bother, anyway, so I grabbed the edge of the captain's seat and unlocked the lever before gently rotating it to face the approaching soldier. Terrence's face softened into a faint smile as he recognized the man.
"So, you're alive, Henrich," he said softly. Then his expression grew serious. "What's the matter?"
Henrich stuttered, his hands shaking as he dug into a bag slung at his hip. "Y-Yes...!"
A sense of deep unease settled over me. Something about this didn't feel right. This... this wasn't part of the original storyline, was it? I couldn't remember every minor detail, but the pit in my stomach told me something was off.
Henrich finally pulled something out of his bag—a laser blaster, ready and set on. "A message... directly from hell!" The man roared, his eyes bloodshot.
Time appeared to slow down. Henrich raised the weapon. The barrel of the blaster pointed straight at Major Terrence who, caught in a surprise situation and paralyzed, was unable to even try to get out of the line of fire.
And then, a bright flash erupted, along with a high-pitched hum; the room was filled with blinding light in an instant.