Battle Of Planets
Chapter 87: So u are Ryuk?

Chapter 87: So u are Ryuk?

"She didn’t tell them to be rogues," Tyson began, stepping in—but Seraphina raised her hand. She would handle this on her own.

"Alex, do you really think they would have listened to me?" Seraphina asked, her voice calm. "If my father—Edmund Carver—couldn’t convince them, why would my words make any difference?"

Alex hesitated. She was right. Edmund had fulfilled every expectation of a leader. He had made numerous attempts to foster unity and help people see reason. Yet, despite all the threats, restrictions, and consequences—Rogues still existed. People continued to walk away.

"Do you think it’s easy to live without nano-particles? Without financial support? Without public recognition for their efforts?" Seraphina continued. "Even after losing all of that, they still chose to follow their hearts. Do you really believe a speech could have changed their minds?"

Alex scoffed. "So what? Treating them fairly is going to make them choose Rangers?" He smirked, shaking his head. "All you’re doing is making it easier for those who were undecided to choose the wrong side."

"There are no sides, Alex." Her voice was now sharp. "Why can’t you see that? I don’t want to keep fighting this pointless war. I want to stop it. And to do that, we need to change our approach."

"This will only worsen matters, Sera," Alex muttered, his jaw clenched.

"No, it won’t," Seraphina said, taking his hands. "Maybe not all of them will choose to be Rangers," she admitted. "But this will prevent future disasters—like the one that just happened. And you know why it happened."

Alex fell silent. His anger hadn’t faded—it still burned in his eyes—but she could tell he was attentive.

"I know you hate them," she said quietly. "Because of what happened to your mother."

Alex’s grip tightened slightly.

"They killed my father too, Alex," she said, taking a breath. "But I’m still thinking about what’s best for us, for our future. Why can’t you?"

Alex pulled away, his expression somber. "Perhaps I’m just not as intelligent as you."

Seraphina hesitated, uncertain of what to say. He wasn’t ready to listen. Not yet.

Alex turned and walked off without another word, leaving them standing there.

Seraphina let out a slow breath before turning to Tyson. "You understand why I did that, right?" she asked softly.

Tyson smiled. "Yeah, I do. And don’t worry about him." He glanced at Alex’s retreating figure. "Let him cool off first—things take time to sink into that thick skull."

Seraphina chuckled and shook her head. "I suppose so."

She stole one last glance at Alex as he disappeared into the lobby, then turned to Tyson. "I should get going."

Tyson nodded as a nearby sergeant stepped forward to guide her away.

As she walked away, Tyson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Things were changing. Whether Alex liked it or not, they couldn’t keep fighting the same battles forever.

Tyson took a large coffee from the service robot, its surface adorned with a perfectly shaped heart. He smiled as he gazed at the design—it reminded him of Nancy.

He thought, " Maybe she feels just as helpless whenever I overreact to something. Did all men act this way? Or are we the only two brothers from different mothers behaving like this?"

He sighed, taking a sip as he pondered Seraphina’s intentions. She wanted to create a safe haven for everyone, but that was unattainable unless the Rogues felt secure first. As long as they thought they were being wrongly accused, they would continue to justify their actions—no matter how extreme. And that was precisely what she was trying to prevent.

Consider the recent attack on the President’s headquarters. Most of the Rogues were not actual criminals—they were ordinary citizens seeking to escape the burdens of being Rangers. Coco exploited that desperation, turning them into tools for his cause. The result? One of the worst incidents in Elria’s history.

At least now, things might change.

Tyson took another sip, his thoughts drifting to Blue. He wasn’t as bad as Tyson had once believed. The Rogues weren’t just enemies—they were people. Some of them, like Blue, were proving to be more than mere villains.

"Excuse me."

Tyson turned toward the voice. A young man, barely twenty, stood in front of him, fidgeting slightly.

"M-My name is Derious," he said nervously. "I was just selected by a Meta-bot."

Tyson grinned, shaking his hand. "Oh, congratulations, man! Welcome to the club."

Derious hesitated before asking, "Is it true that you only had three power points when you received your Meta-bot?"

Tyson smirked. "Yep. Three."

Derious’ eyes widened.

"But don’t worry about it," Tyson said, placing a hand on the kid’s shoulder. "Power develops over time. Just don’t lose hope."

Derious grinned and bowed slightly. "Thank you, Sergeant!"

Then he rushed off to join his friends, leaving Tyson chuckling as he took another sip of his coffee. He had come a long way since then.

"Do you think I’m someone special, Whitey?" Tyson murmured, swirling his coffee. "Blink once for yes, twice for no."

The Meta-bot blinked twice.

Tyson nearly choked on his drink. "What? How dare you—" He huffed, narrowing his eyes. "Alright then, how about this? Blink once if you’re not special, and blink five times if you are."

The Meta-bot paused briefly before blinking rapidly five times.

Tyson stood there, speechless. "Are you serious right now?"

Initially, he thought Whitey might refuse, perhaps even glitch out after blinking so many times in succession. But no. The little guy showed zero hesitation in proving his own superiority.

Tyson groaned. "Unbelievable..."

---

Mark strode through the corridors of the Research Department, his sharp gaze scanning the chaos surrounding him. Engineers and researchers hurriedly packed equipment, relocated sensitive data, and marked what would remain in Babylon. The air buzzed with urgency, clearly signaling the transition underway.

Beside him, Justin strolled at an infuriatingly casual pace, a smirk fixed on his face.

"Why are you following me?" Mark asked, irritation seeping into his tone.

"I’m not following you," Justin replied, his voice laced with amusement. "I’m just keeping an eye on you. There’s a big difference."

Mark exhaled sharply, already regretting having entertained the conversation.

"And since you’re here to rob away a significant part of our research," Justin continued, tilting his head, "I figured you’d view me as nothing more than a weak civilian. Wouldn’t you, Mark?"

Mark clenched his jaw but said nothing. He knew Justin well enough to recognize the veiled hostility beneath his words. Despite lacking a Meta-bot, Justin wielded dangerous influence, thanks to his father. There was something unsettling about him, something predatory in the way he carried himself, the way he looked at people as if they were merely pieces on a board, ready to be played... or discarded.

Mark could only imagine what might have happened if a Meta-bot had selected this man. Fortunately, fate had spared the world from that disaster.

They took the lift down to the underground site, where a vast facility stretched before them. The air hummed with activity—engineers and scientists in white coats moved swiftly, some walking with purpose, while others drove small transport vehicles, shuttling equipment and classified materials from one end of the room to another.

Justin strode ahead with his hands in his pockets, speaking casually, "I’ve always wanted to meet him."

Mark followed, keeping his expression unreadable.

"You too, right?" Justin asked, glancing over his shoulder. "To see if he’s a miracle or a disaster waiting to happen?"

Mark halted, his keen eyes narrowing. "What are you really implying?"

Justin chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, come on, Mark. We both know what I mean. If you want to lead this world, you need to keep everyone in check. Otherwise, you might not realize that someone has surpassed you... until it’s too late."

Mark’s jaw tightened.

Justin smirked, turning away. "Relax," he said with a dismissive wave. "Don’t take everything so seriously—I never do."

They continued through a narrow corridor, the dim lighting flickering slightly as they reached the end. Then, there he was.

A solitary figure roosted on a large storage container, legs crossed and a book in hand.

Mark and Justin instinctively tensed at the sight of him, two men with different motives yet drawn to the same person.

Perched on a massive storage container, Ryuk barely glanced their way, his book still open in one hand. A faint red glow pulsed from the meta-bot on his chest, flickering steadily like a heartbeat.

Justin was the first to speak. "So, you’re the one they call Ryuk," he said, his voice darker. This man posed a threat to his father’s position, a man he had long wanted to meet.

Ryuk blinked lazily before turning his head and pointing in a random direction. "He’s that way."

Mark narrowed his eyes, seeing right through the blatant lie. There was no doubt about the meta-bot on his chest, the unmistakable face he had seen in the classified files provided by Steve. Why was he lying?

Justin let out an amused scoff, "You think we don’t know who you are, you little shit?"