Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit
Chapter 121 – The Scariest Thing

Chapter 121 - The Scariest Thing

You know what’s scary? That eerie, otherworldly specter the Kaiserin glimpsed during the infamous Blackout Incident—the one that flickered in and out of reality like a corrupted broadcast.

You know what’s scarier? My best friend just looked me in the eye and asked me to kill him… because he claims he is the Cosmic Tree.

But you know what’s scariest?

Finals.

Pure, soul-sapping, handwritten examination finals.

Here’s a curated selection of collective student suffering when our professors dropped the bomb during the last "normal" university day of the school year:

“Our Final Examinations will cover everything,” announced Professor Chen, his voice as cold as the steel frame of a guillotine. “Yes, including Chapters 13 and 14—even though we never touched them in class. Read them. Thoroughly.”

“Awww,” the class groaned in unison, as if mourning their own academic funeral.

Professor Isadora stood next, graceful and merciless. “The Finals will include all my lectures. I’ve sent a study guide to your emails. Memorize it. Word for word. Understood?”

“Awwwwwww,” the class wailed, louder this time, the dread thick enough to choke on.

Then came Professor Chaldeas, whose idea of “mercy” was a slow, essay-based demise. “Next meeting, you’ll take your Final Exam—written only. No multiple choice. Every question requires three fully developed paragraphs.”

“Awwwwwwwwwww,” we cried, the library walls echoing with our despair.

Finally, Doctor Remus marched in like a drill sergeant forged in the depths of mathematical hell. “This is Advanced Calculus, idiots! Of course it’s a written exam! It’s 60% of your final grade. If you fail this, you don’t just fail my subject. You fail everything. You get dropped from college. Got that?”

“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww,” came our collective death rattle. I swear I heard Myrrh whimper like a silly bitch at the front of the classroom.

So, in defiance of destiny and academic doom, our battle-hardened study circle from midterms reformed. Just like during the Licensure Examination Tournament and the midterm purges, we rallied once more—assembling in the library, armed with pens, notes, snacks, and the shared will to survive.

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I was running a bit late to the library—courtesy of a gastrointestinal rebellion sparked by the expired milk I recklessly chugged last night. The stomach cramps were a harsh reminder that desperation and dairy don’t mix. After downing a tablet of antacid and sipping slowly from a saline sports drink to rehydrate, I gathered my tablet, textbooks, and what little dignity I had left, and made my way to the library.

By the time I reached the second level, the gang was already deep in the trenches of review. Remuel, Cindy, and Neil were buried in their Cybernetic Weaponry textbooks like soldiers decoding alien tech. 

Neil was scratching his head with a pen, his brows furrowed in confusion as if the equations personally offended him. Cindy, by contrast, seemed laser-focused, her eyes darting across formulas like a tactical AI trying to optimize a missile strike. Remuel, however, looked like a ghost with a heartbeat—his gaze vacant, his mouth slightly ajar. It was as if every sentence he read entered one ear and exited through the pores of his scalp.

But none of them commanded as much attention as Myrrh.

She sat stiffly, hands trembling slightly above her notes, with a wide smile plastered on her face—the kind of smile that screamed help me in ten different dialects. Even a golden retriever could tell it was fake. Her eyes shimmered with held-back tears as she tried to keep up with Fei Xian, who was patiently tutoring her with the grace of a saint and the precision of a machine.

“Ahahaha. Ahahaha. H-how did you arrive at that formula again?” Myrrh asked, her voice brittle, her laugh hollow like a cracked bell.

Fei calmly pointed to the scribbles on Myrrh’s notebook. “First, you cancel this part here… then you multiply these terms, add this one, and solve the exponents.”

“Ahahaha. Ahahaha. I-I don’t get it… Can you repeat this one?” Myrrh asked again, still wearing that brave, broken smile—the academic equivalent of a gladiator begging for mercy while pretending they're fine.

I smirked. Opportunities like this don’t come every day—Myrrh, the ever-confident, ever-proud, now reduced to a bundle of nerves and fake smiles. It was the perfect moment to poke the bear. Or in this case, the panicking cabbage.

“You don’t know how to solve that one?” I said, feigning shock with a theatrical scoff. “It’s just a basic skill.”

Myrrh shot me a glare that could peel paint off a wall. “Will you shut the fuck up?” she hissed through clenched teeth, barely above a whisper. “I’m trying to be serious here!” Her eyes darted nervously, scanning for any librarians within earshot. She couldn’t afford to raise her voice—and she knew it.

Then, as if summoned by the god of awkward timing, Fei Xian chirped, “Oh, Zaft! Is your Number 2 a success?”

My soul nearly left my body.

“Ssshhh!” I hissed, my eyes wide as I motioned for her to zip it. The last thing I needed was for everyone in the second-floor study area to imagine me fighting for my life in a bathroom stall.

I took the seat beside Myrrh, pretending that didn’t just happen.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her lips curl into a pout, her eyes darting away in mock defiance. When I looked directly at her, she turned her head sharply with a dramatic “Hmph!”—like a princess refusing to acknowledge the jester. It was kind of funny. Kind of adorable, too.

Feeling slightly guilty for teasing her at her most fragile, I decided to balance the scales.

I leaned over and glanced at her notebook. As expected, the dense scribbles and floating symbols confirmed my suspicion—Advanced Calculus. Of course. Triple integrals, partial derivatives, all the mathematical monstrosities designed to break students’ spirits.

“Ohhh, look at that. Partial derivatives and triple integrals,” I said, the teasing edge still in my voice. “That’s actually very basic. I can teach you that, if you want.” I gave her a sideways smile—half smug, half sincere.

The kind of smile that said: I annoy you, but I’ve got your back.

“R-really?” Myrrh’s eyes lit up with cautious hope, her face visibly brightening like a cloudy morning catching a streak of sunlight. Still, she held onto her pout—deliberately, almost comically—as if her pride was still on life support and refusing to flatline.

“Of course,” I said with a reassuring grin and a cheesy thumbs up that made her roll her eyes slightly.

“I mean… Fei’s teaching is actually really good,” she admitted, glancing sideways at Fei, who smiled serenely like a Zen tutor. “But it’s just… too advanced for me. Like, I can’t appreciate it when I feel like I’m drowning in Greek. Can you teach me Advanced Calculus in simpler terms? And, um—pretend I’m an idiot?”

I smirked and scoffed. “Okay, I’m there.”

Leaning over her notebook, I examined the tangled mess of variables and symbols. Then, with the confidence of someone pretending they passed the subject on their first try, I pointed to the equation.

“Fei’s calculations are solid,” I began, “but there’s a shortcut to this that’s easier to digest—especially if you think in metaphors.”

I picked up her pen and started scribbling alongside the notes, narrating each step like a deranged Southern uncle teaching math at a barbecue.

“First, you take this skinny end here—this fella—and then cross the big daddy over the mama. Then you loop it around the front porch, like so. After that, you bring big daddy through the kitchen for some sweet tea… and finally, swing him back out for supper on the veranda.”

Myrrh stared blankly at her notebook for a second. Her eyes slowly followed the pen strokes as if trying to locate the actual math behind the madness. 

“W-wow, you actually solved the problem and told a story!” Fei gasped, clasping her hands with genuine admiration. “Now I’m curious—what happened to Big Daddy and Mama after supper?”

“They had sex,” I replied, completely deadpan.

Silence.

“But that’s not part of the formula,” I added coolly. “Erase that from your mental chalkboard.”

Fei blinked twice, unsure whether to laugh or report me to Student Services.

Myrrh giggled, finally relaxing. “Aside from that dry green joke—which I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear—that was actually super helpful.” She beamed at me, her smile bright, effortless, and dangerously disarming.

No—this wasn’t just any smile.

This was the smile. The one that felt like it could stop a war, rewrite a poem, or burn a hole through my chest. The most beautiful smile on the planet—attached to the very girl I’d just teased with metaphorical parental calculus.

“Th-thanks, Zaft!” she said, eyes sparkling.

“N-no problem,” I stammered, my voice cracking slightly as my cheeks caught fire.

This is bad. Really bad. I’m falling for her again. Harder this time.

I know I’ve told myself to wait—to be patient, to survive finals, and to solve this whole Cosmic Tree catastrophe first. But at this rate, I’m not sure I’ll even make it past the next study break. I’m going to confess. I have to. Even if she says no like she always says she would. Even if things get awkward. Even if we lose what we have.

Because maybe, just maybe, the weight in my chest might finally lighten.

And then—

“OH! It’s Dianca!” Neil suddenly blurted, practically bouncing in his seat like he just spotted a rare Pokémon.

Our heads turned in unison.

There she was—Dianca. Blue-haired, serene, and glowing like the star student she probably was. She was humming softly to herself, arms full of books and a sleek tablet tucked under one elbow. Without a word, she gracefully claimed the last empty seat at our study table like it had been reserved for her all along.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, everyone!” Dianca called out cheerfully, cradling a stack of borrowed notes against her chest. Her voice rang with that same radiant energy that always followed her like a trail of sparkles. “I had to borrow some notes from my classmates before I could make it here!”

Her trademark glittery smile beamed across the table.

“Oh, long time no see, Dianca!” Fei exclaimed, clasping her hands like she was welcoming a pop idol.

“Long time no see!” Dianca echoed with delight, her eyes gleaming. “I’m so glad to see our circle back at it again!”

There was a shared warmth in that moment—like the study circle was whole again. Even Myrrh, who had been on the edge of collapse a few minutes ago, let out a small sigh of relief.

But then it happened.

A spark flared behind my eyes. My brain jolted like a live wire hit water. I froze. My left arm began to glow—a deep, ominous crimson—as unfamiliar symbols and circuits pulsed beneath my skin like veins of burning metal. The sensation was sharp, ancient, and wrong.

No, not now.

The WEEB System flickered to life without permission, casting a thin, cold hologram into the air in front of me. I wasn’t touching anything. I hadn’t summoned it. But it came anyway, like a prophecy I didn’t ask for.

Then, I saw it.

The most confusingly terrifying thing I have ever read.

[Machine God’s Gospel Received]

[Mission: Eliminate Dianca Fritz]