Battle Of Planets
Chapter 41: Facing Coco

Chapter 41: Facing Coco

Inside the Ranger headquarters,

Captain Sam stood before the screen, his face shadowed by deep concern. He decided to hold his ground, knowing that half of their forces were outside the city. At the same time, the rest were scattered—some assigned to patrols, others near the opposition, and the majority at the President’s camp. Only a handful remained inside the headquarters, tasked with defending in case an unforeseen circumstance arose.

Behind him, a man shivered. "C-Captain..."

"Lieutenant," Sam said slowly, his voice heavy with uncertainty. "Our duty is to protect this headquarters." He paused, contemplating whether he was making the right decision. "S-some of us have to stay back... to defend our base."

He sensed his subordinates’ restless energy—their intense urge to rush to the battlefield and assist their comrades. However, if he let emotions cloud his judgment, he would fail as a leader.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. "Go back and tell the men to stay on high alert," he commanded. "If anyone dares to leave this building without permission, I will handle them personally."

The lieutenant paused briefly before nodding and leaving the room.

Captain Sam redirected his attention to the screen, a troubled look on his face. "General, I trust you can manage this chaos before it ruins everything you hold dear."

---

On the battlefield, which extended from the Presidential buildings to nearby structures, Rangers and Rogues desperately fought for their survival.

A deafening crash shattered the chaos as a metallic figure slammed into a car, its sheer weight sending tremors through the ground. The air smelled of burning metal as plasma shots streaked across the sky, their bright flashes temporarily blinding anyone who dared to look. The intense heat from the exploding car scorched the onlookers’ skin, adding to the madness of the scene.

The figure, driven by the force of the impact, hurtled through the city until a second shot hit it, causing it to fall to the ground.

Around him, the battle rages on. He struggled to rise, but before he could regain his footing, a large chunk of rock was hurled at him, striking him hard and knocking him unconscious. His metallic armor was torn in places, battered from the relentless onslaught, as if the brutal fight had utterly drained his reserves.

The Rogues lay still. A Ranger moved quickly, driving a blade into the figure’s heart, delivering a swift, merciless blow.

As Tyson’s punch shattered the Rogue’s helmet, revealing the man’s terrified face, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over him. His fist, still trembling in the air, lingered briefly, caught between rage and another feeling—a deep, aching weariness that urged him to stop.

Another storm of emotions raged inside Tyson, urging him to strike again as if asking him to punch with his metal-clad hand and shatter every bone in the man’s face.

"I beg you, sir," the Rogue whispered, his voice trembling. "I only want to live my life..."

Tyson stepped back, his breath unsteady. A sharp pain twisted inside him, urging him to ignore the man’s desperate plea. Yet, something restrained him.

The Rogue dropped to his knees, clutching Tyson’s feet. "Please, spare me... I have a son."

A son... Does he have a family? Is Tyson willing to leave a child orphaned like he was? His chest tightened with guilt.

A long silence followed. Then, without glancing at the man, Tyson exhaled and muttered, "Run. As fast as you can." He turned away, seeking to calm the storm within him.

He directed his gaze at Blue.

Blue loomed over a defeated Ranger, his boot pressing down on the soldier’s chest. The Ranger’s armor was battered, with sections destroyed, yet his eyes still burned with defiance as he glared up at Blue.

Blue stepped back and whispered something, his expression unreadable. However, the moment he turned away, the Ranger lunged at him.

Blue reacted instantly, catching the man’s fist mid-air. As the Ranger shouted in frustration, Blue watched him—his grip steady, his eyes weighed down with guilt.

Blue punched the ranger in the gut. The man fell to the ground, and Blue took a few steps back and watched the man cry in pain.

Tyson’s gaze then fixed on his brother, Alex, who showed no hesitation or mercy. With a swift thrust, his katana pierced a Rogue’s exposed belly, the blade slicing cleanly through his back. Alex kicked the man to the ground and, with one final blow, severed his head.

Tyson clenched his jaw and closed his eyes.

He knew that feeling—the all-consuming rage that blinds you to everything except your target. He had experienced it himself that day. As he watched Alex, he understood the truth: unchecked fury doesn’t just destroy the enemy; it consumes the one who wields it.

Edward had always preached controlling rage. Perhaps he, too, had recognized the darkness lurking within human nature.

Coco perched on the wreckage, his expression blank—lifeless eyes fixed on the disorder around him. He had witnessed everything, endured it all, and now, it appeared he longed to witness no more.

Tyson’s fists clenched as he glared at the man responsible for this devastation—the architect of destruction—yet he sat there, unmoved and unbothered.

Blue followed Tyson’s gaze and saw him, too.

Meanwhile, officials hurried to evacuate civilians trapped in buildings, including the President’s family. The battlefield had shifted from its original location, descending into the city as Rangers chased the fleeing Rogues to eliminate them.

Patrolling Rangers joined the battle, surrounding the criminals to prevent any escape. The slaughter had only just commenced.

Tyson moved ahead, attempting to ignore the desperate cries surrounding him. He navigated through the debris and the crushed remains of vehicles. His gaze stayed fixed on Coco, who remained silent amid the turmoil.

For a fleeting moment, Coco looked at Tyson as he came closer.

"Are you happy now?" Tyson pointed to the wreckage surrounding them. "You finally got your war."

Coco’s expression stayed cold. "The war started the moment I learned about my wife’s death." His voice carried a heavy weight. "I never even got to see her body. They said it was an explosion caused by Rogues—the same Rogues we protected, believing in a greater purpose."

Tyson paused, uncertain of how to reply.

Coco continued, bitterness in his voice. "Edmund insisted it was all for the sake of saving the world. Yet, when I returned from the tournament, my world was already lost. I fought to defend theirs, but Edmund couldn’t save mine."

"So that’s why you killed him?" Tyson asked, his voice steady. He sensed Blue stepping closer behind him, listening closely. "To avenge her?"

"No." Coco shifted his gaze to Blue. "I ended his life because this world required a reason to eliminate the Rogues." His expression grew stern. "They are a misguided group, blind to their true purpose. Ensnared by their selfish ambitions—desiring to lead ordinary lives, indulging in their whims while posing a threat to humanity itself."

"You can’t force everyone into this, Coco," Blue said desperately. He had once thought Coco understood him better than anyone. But now, they felt like strangers.

"We’ve been pushed into this, Blue!" Coco exclaimed, her voice edged with irritation. "The one who got us into this situation never sought our consent before pulling us into this nightmare. He didn’t."

"And you didn’t either," Tyson interjected. "Not everyone wanted to be a part of this war—but now they have no choice because you forced them."

"For that as well... for a larger cause," Coco murmured, standing up. His nanobots buzzed around him, creating a streamlined metal helmet. "I took the initiative that everyone should have taken long ago. Now, they are left with no option but to confront the repercussions of their negligence."

"The only ignorant one here—" Blue stepped forward, his voice laced with disdain. "—is you, jerk."

He fired a plasma blast straight at Coco without hesitation.

Coco hardly flinched. With a casual motion, he swept his hand forward, deflecting the energy as if brushing away nothing more than a few specks of dust.

Blue lunged forward, throwing a powerful punch at Coco, but Coco sidestepped the attack. In one swift motion, he landed a crushing blow on Blue’s chest, sending him crashing to his knees.

"I told you to leave," Coco said, his voice steady.

Blue coughed but glared at him, determination burning in his eyes. "I’ll leave after I’ve killed you."

Coco chuckled and shook his head. "That’s why I’ve always liked you, Blue. You’ve got heart, kid."

Before he could say more, Tyson dashed in, his sword slicing through the air. Coco effortlessly dodged each strike, stepping back as if merely humoring a child’s tantrum. Tyson gritted his teeth, frustration mounting as he swung harder and faster—yet every attempt missed its mark.

Coco observed Tyson with a trace of amusement. "I admire you, Tyson," he reflected. "No one else dared to confront me, but you did. Maybe the younger generation really will surpass the older one."

"Shut up and fight, you monster!" Tyson roared, driving himself harder despite his struggle.

Coco executed a slow, deliberate spin and suddenly captured Tyson’s wrist mid-swing, halting the sword in its tracks. His grip tightened like a vice.

"But only if they survive this hell," he said coldly.