Battle Of Planets
Chapter 62: Three Primes?

Chapter 62: Three Primes?

"So, you have no idea what Coco did to your Meta-bot?" Edward asked grimly, his intense gaze fixed on Blue.

Inside the office, Blue shook his head. "No, sir. I don’t."

He had been summoned solely to answer Edward’s questions. While it felt good to breathe outside his confined room for the first time in a while, the weight of his confinement still lingered. He had never felt this caged before—but what else could he expect? He had committed grave sins.

Edward’s gaze remained steady. "You’re not lying, are you?"

"No, sir. I wouldn’t," Blue replied firmly, though his mind drifted back to his conversation with Coco—when he had been injured fighting Tyson, the moment Coco told him how nanoparticles had increased his power points by two.

Blue had never been interested in research and technological progress. He had little grasp of nanoparticles, and now it appeared that Edward was attempting to determine how Coco had upgraded his Meta-bot.

After a brief silence, Edward abruptly changed the subject. "How’s your training going? It looks like you’re at 28."

Blue blinked, briefly confused by the change. "Huh? Oh—uh, yes, General. It’s going well. We train hard every day."

Edward nodded curtly. "You can go now."

Blue offered a slight bow before stepping out of the office, inhaling deeply as he sensed some tension leaving his chest. However, his brief moment of relief was short-lived. Two sergeants stood waiting outside, prepared to escort him back to his cell.

Blue turned to them with a sly grin. "Who wants to take a coffee break?"

A sergeant sneered, "I drink wine," as he moved ahead, subtly urging Blue to continue walking.

Edward stood up and faced the glass wall, gazing down at the sprawling cityscape from the headquarters. His thoughts weighed him down, yet he stayed composed. Behind him, the AI flickered to life on an invisible screen, as if it had been silently watching all along.

The display exhibited a series of unsuccessful attempts to recreate Coco’s method. A demonstration of an artificial Meta-bot played, but the process continuously failed, unable to reverse engineer the advancements.

Edward’s voice was steady yet authoritative. "Have you gone over all the footage from his tapes? Is there anything relevant to this?"

The AI started loading files, its voice echoing through the room. "Yes, General. There’s one piece of footage, although I can’t confirm its direct relation to the method. However, I believe it could hold some significance. Would you like to see it?"

"Show me."

Edward turned back to the screen as the footage played.

Coco appeared in his lab, leaning against a cluttered workbench stacked with mechanical parts, Meta-bot of Coco, and power stones. In the background, Blue could be seen exiting through a massive metal door.

Coco muttered to himself, "Nice kid. He’s neither good nor evil—just someone trying to maintain a balance. He doesn’t have a purpose like I do."

He focused on his own Meta-bot, which stood idly on its platform.

"There’s a way to increase our strength quickly," he continued. "The method Victor mentioned to me... but even I can’t match his genius. I don’t fully recall what he said—there was too much chaos in the battle room that day."

Coco sighed and cast a glance at the AI disk on his desk. "Why am I even discussing this? Maybe it’s so I don’t feel alone."

A gentle, synthetic voice answered. "You are not alone, Captain."

The camera flickered, its lens capturing the faint glow of light where Coco had been looking—as if he had commanded the AI to record his thoughts.

"I’m no longer a captain," Coco clarified.

"Apologies, General," the AI replied. "You achieved the rank of General after the tournament."

Coco chuckled softly. "You foolish tool. Power levels represent ranks. I could have been a General, but I decided to be a Rogue—to distance myself from all of them."

The artificial intelligence experienced a momentary flicker once more. "Ciara, sir," it gently reminded him. "You designated me as Ciara, not merely as ’a foolish tool.’"

Coco’s expression changed. His typically sharp gaze softened, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "S-Sorry, Ciara. I got distracted."

Edward watched silently, his face grim. He understood what his friend was going through. He hadn’t been there when Coco fell into that dark phase—too lost in his own demons to notice.

Things wouldn’t have turned out this way if we had kept in touch.

"Anyway, I’ll make use of what I can," Coco muttered, grabbing a page and jotting down additional notes around the existing diagrams. "We’ve conducted trials, and one of them was a success. Now it’s time for the real thing. Any suggestions on who I should test it on?"

"Blue," Ciara replied without hesitation. "You said he’s special."

Coco chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re smart, Ciara. Just like my wife." His tone softened for a moment before he snapped back to focus. "Now, enough of that—we have work to do."

The scene faded to black.

Edward exhaled sharply, feeling frustration settle in. The method Victor shared with Coco remained just out of reach. He remembered seeing the two of them deep in conversation—Coco with his technical knowledge and Victor, whose ideas always seemed ahead of their time.

However, Victor’s methods were dismissed. Many asserted that they were unproven and never progressed beyond the theoretical stage. The official explanation was that time constraints hindered proper trials, with their forces always on standby for battle.

To Edward, that reasoning seemed weak. Victor was the Commanding General of Babylon, the third-strongest human city. Why had his ideas been overlooked?

Was it due to bureaucracy or internal politics?

Knowing Victor, he was probably too absorbed in his work to realize if he was being sidelined.

Edward clenched his fist. If only Victor were still alive... he would have gotten something substantial. Now they were receiving confirmations of his theories, like Blue’s Advancement of two points.

---

A video call was on the line as Nancy and her mother sat in the living room, watching the middle-aged man with glasses on the screen. He was Victor’s close friend, the one who had risked everything to help Nancy and her mother escape from Babylon. More than that, he had also found Tyson—the boy who had inherited Victor’s Meta-bot.

Despite the dark circles under his weary eyes, his gaze was steady, filled with unwavering determination. "He’s doing everything in his power to bring you back to Babylon," he said solemnly.

Nancy flinched at the man’s words and, sitting next to Mrs. Winters, gently rubbed her back for reassurance.

"But don’t worry, Nancy," the man continued. "You are like a daughter to me, and I swear on my position as the Vice Chairman of the Research Department—I will do everything in my power to protect you."

Mrs. Winters paused before responding. "But... you can’t confront the General, can you?" Her voice was quiet and careful.

A heavy silence followed.

It was the truth. No matter how much authority the man had within the Research Department, he could not challenge the General—the ruthless leader of Babylon—who was determined to bring Nancy back.

Nancy’s hands were clenched into fists. "But why?" she insisted, her voice shaking with anger. "Why is he so determined to force me into marrying his son? I don’t want to! He can’t make me!"

Mrs. Winters sighed before saying. "Honey... it’s because of your father’s reputation." Her tone was filled with sorrow. "He was loved by the public and greatly statured within the Research Department. Unlike Albert, who uses deceit and manipulation, your father stood as a pillar of honor."

The man on the screen nodded. "Precisely. By having you married off to his son, Albert seeks to solidify his legitimacy by using your father’s name to become an indisputable ruler. In this way, he can sideline the other Generals of Babylon and eliminate any threats to his reign."

Nancy felt a wave of disgust. "Am I just a tool for him?"

The man paused before adding, "Yes... and there’s something else. Or rather, someone—someone who frightens him."

Mrs. Winters frowned. "Terrifies him?" she echoed, her brows knitting together. "A devil like him wouldn’t be afraid of anything... unless someone is threatening his throne."

The man looked around carefully before leaning closer. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "His name is Ryuk... and he’s about the same age as Nancy."

Nancy and her mother held their breath, waiting anxiously.

"He is a Prime, Black Ranger."

Mrs. Winters’ lips widened in shock after hearing him.

"No... it can’t be..." she whispered, shaking her head. Her hands clutched the table’s edge for support. "is it true?"

The man watched Mrs. Winter’s to see her reaction. "You get what this means, right?" he inquired.

Mrs. Winters swallowed hard. Her late husband had mentioned something like this—a theory he had once confided in her. A theory that no one believed until he passed away during the tournament.

And now, it had come true.

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