Warfare Augmented Intelligent Frame Unit
Chapter 127 – Natural-born Diva

Chapter 127 - Natural-born Diva

The movie reviews completely misled us. I had expected a parade of cheap jumpscares with overdone sound effects—but no. These jumpscares were bone-chillingly effective, enough to make Fei scream at the top of her lungs. And it wasn’t just her—half the theater echoed with startled cries, mostly from the girls.

“Eeeek!” Fei shrieked, throwing her hands over her eyes just as a ghostly woman lunged toward the screen, her limbs bent at unnatural angles.

“Kyaaa!” she yelped again when the protagonist leaned toward a keyhole, only to be met with a bloodshot eye glaring back from the other side. It felt like the theater’s air had turned ice-cold.

“Oh! What the fuck! Holy shit!” Neil howled, practically leaping from his seat when the main character’s boyfriend knocked on a door and suddenly appeared in the window with a lifeless grin.

To my horror, Neil latched onto my arm like a frightened child clinging to his parent during a storm.

“What the hell—!” I recoiled, a shiver racing down my spine as I felt his grip tighten. “Get off me!”

I gave him a quick one-two punch to the shoulder and arm to shake him off.

“Ow! Damn it, that hurt!” Neil whined, rubbing his arm.

“If you’re scared, go cling to Fei, not me!” I snapped, still shaking off the chill he gave me.

Another scream tore through the theater—yet another perfectly timed scare—and this time, Fei instinctively grabbed Neil. In a strange twist of fate, Neil latched onto her just as tightly. Now the two were wrapped around each other in the oddest cuddle I’ve ever seen—like two koalas clinging to a single tree in a typhoon of fear.

I glanced at Myrrh, who looked utterly unbothered by the chaos unraveling on screen. While the rest of us flinched and cried out, she sat there with an almost bored elegance—her arms crossed, eyes narrowed, as if dissecting the film rather than watching it. It wasn’t disinterest, exactly—more like she could predict every scare before it happened, like she’d read the script in advance.

“Is this movie not to your liking, Your Royal Highness?” I whispered, my voice dripping with mockery.

Myrrh didn’t look away from the screen. Her eyes sharpened as a shadow slithered across the frame. “Hmmm… it’s riddled with cheap jumpscares,” she murmured. “I’ve built an immunity to them at this point.”

“Well, of course. Nothing scares a tomboy like you,” I teased, my tone deliberately insulting.

“Hmph.” She turned her head away with an exaggerated pout, clearly not dignifying me with a response. 

We returned to the flickering screen. With each jumpscare, Fei and Neil—both former terrorists, mind you—jerked and shrieked like they were strapped to electric chairs. Meanwhile, I kept flinching out of reflex, my heart leaping into my throat more times than I’d like to admit.

Then came another sudden scare—some grotesque demon lunging into the frame with a screech—and in that brief moment of confusion, I felt something soft press against my arm.

I froze.

Myrrh was clinging to me, her chest awkwardly squished against my side. “K-kyaaaa!” she cried, in an obviously fake, over-the-top voice.

I turned to her slowly, giving her the most judgmental stare I could muster. She peeked up at me with a mischievous glint in her eyes, then stuck out her tongue and grinned.

Cute. Way too cute.

I sighed and leaned back into my seat. 

Fine. She can play scared all she wants—just this once.

<><><>

After surviving the so-called “scary” movie, the four of us headed to Sammelplatz Diner for our unofficial last supper of the school year. 

Since it was our final night together before break, we didn’t hold back—we splurged on the fanciest dishes they had to offer: tender medium-rare steak, sweet red wine that glimmered in the candlelight, and, of course, the diner’s signature Sammelplatz Pizza—an artery-clogging legend loaded with greasy pepperoni, molten cheese, and a crust slick with garlic butter.

Fei, it seemed, had fully adopted Myrrh’s taste in junk food. She dug into the pizza with gusto, grease glistening on her cheeks and fingertips like she’d been born for it. Myrrh was no better—tearing into her slices like a predator marking the end of a long hunt.

The two girls devoured slice after slice as if the world was ending tomorrow, while Neil and I sat with slightly more composure, nibbling our meals and quietly judging.

As another slice vanished between Myrrh’s lips, Neil leaned in close and whispered, “Just how many stomachs does a woman have?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, my tone dry as desert sand. “But I’m pretty sure they’ve got no brains to compensate.”

Neil snorted, stifling a laugh.

“Hey! I heard that!” Myrrh snapped, her cheeks puffed out like an offended squirrel mid-chew. Her glare could’ve curdled milk.

“That’s not very nice!” Fei chimed in, mimicking Myrrh’s expression with an equally puffed-up pout. “That was rude, Zaft!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” I cried, holding up my hands in surrender as I took a sip of my berry smoothie—cool, tart, and just a little too sweet. It wasn’t every day that Fei scolded me, and the sheer rarity of it made it hit harder than expected.

To avoid drawing any more glares from the girls, I turned my attention to my own plate and finally gave in to the temptation. I grabbed a slice of that greasy pizza and took a bite.

Yeah, it was delicious. Sinfully good. But we’d ordered it so many times over the semester that it was starting to lose its magic. The flavor had become too familiar—so ingrained in my senses that I could practically taste it in my dreams... or worse, in the back of my throat when I woke up in the morning.

Still, tonight was special. And for that reason alone, the pizza tasted just a bit better.

A soft melody drifted through Sammelplatz Diner, played live by a local band that had taken the modest stage near the corner. The warm acoustics of the instruments blended with the gentle clinking of cutlery and murmurs of late-night conversations, filling the diner with a cozy, nostalgic vibe.

When the band finished their final piece—a mellow jazz number—the members bowed and stepped off the stage to scattered applause. The room began to settle back into quiet chatter, but then something unexpected happened.

A familiar figure walked into the soft glow of the spotlight.

Her long, wavy blue hair shimmered under the stage lights, flowing like the ocean’s surface under moonlight. As she raised the mic to her lips, the air seemed to hush in anticipation. The first notes of her ballad poured out like silk—smooth, emotional, and heartbreakingly beautiful. Her voice cradled the lyrics as if she were confessing a secret only the night could understand.

“Hey, isn’t that… Dianca?” Fei paused mid-bite, her fork frozen in midair as she pointed toward the stage.

“It is Dianca!” Neil gasped, and in the blink of an eye, he had transformed into a squealing fangirl. He waved both arms like a castaway spotting a rescue boat. “Heeey! Dianca! Over here!”

On stage, Dianca glanced our way. When she spotted us, she offered a sweet, bashful wave—the kind that made it impossible not to smile back. All four of us returned the wave like loyal fans at a concert, then eased back into our seats, letting her voice carry us through the meal.

But I couldn't relax.

Dianca, our kind and cheerful study group buddy, looked so radiant and innocent up there. The way she smiled, the way she sang—none of it matched the creeping sense of dread swirling in my stomach. My mind drifted to the prophecy, the gospel of the Machine God, the cryptic warnings and cosmic madness.

Do I really have to kill her?

The thought hit me like a cold knife.

She doesn’t know anything about the impending doom, the twisted fates wrapped around us, or the insane world of Cosmic Goddesses and celestial bullshitry. She’s just Dianca—soft-hearted, talented, probably the most normal among us. How could I possibly drag her into this madness?

No. I won’t. Not if I can help it.

For now, I pushed the thought away and focused on the moment. Her song continued, and even if it was just for a few minutes, I let myself pretend that things were simple.

As soon as Dianca finished her soulful ballad, she didn’t linger on stage like a diva awaiting praise. Instead, she made a beeline toward us with a bright smile on her face. She grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table and dragged it over without hesitation, plopping herself down right between Neil and me—like she’d always belonged there.

We were nearly done with our meals by then, the plates littered with crumbs and the lingering aroma of garlic and grilled meat still wafting in the air. Thankfully, we’d had the foresight to save her a slice of pizza.

“Thank you for listening, guys! Did you like my song?” Dianca asked, brushing a strand of her wavy blue hair behind her ear, her eyes sparkling with a mix of pride and nervousness.

“It was great!” Fei said enthusiastically, her cheeks still stuffed with food. “It goes really well with the flavor of Sammelplatz Pizza! Like... buttery harmony!”

“Here, Dianca,” Myrrh added, pushing a small plate toward her with a perfectly preserved slice of greasy, glistening pizza. “Your reward for elevating our dinner into something worthy of candlelight.”

“Oh! Don’t mind if I do!” Dianca chirped, accepting the plate like it was an award. She took a bite and gave a satisfied hum, then turned to Myrrh with a gleam in her eye. “By the way, would you like to sing too, Myrrh?”

“M-Me?” Myrrh blinked, caught completely off guard. Her face turned a soft pink as she looked around like someone had just called on her during a surprise pop quiz.

“Well, you’re an amazing singer,” Dianca continued with a gentle smile. “I remember you totally going toe to toe against me back in karaoke. I bet you'd sound incredible on that stage. I can even hook you up with the band, if you want.”

Myrrh fidgeted with her fork, eyes shifting between Dianca and the small stage now bathed in quiet light. Her lips parted like she wanted to refuse, but a flicker of interest sparkled in her gaze.

And just like that, something unspoken hung in the air—anticipation, maybe even a bit of nervous excitement.

“Are you sure?” Myrrh asked, her voice laced with mock modesty. Then, with a flick of her greenish-blonde hair and a smirk tugging at her lips, she added, “Aren’t you worried I’ll outshine you? I mean, I am clearly the better singer.”

I winced so hard I felt it in my spine. “Can’t you stop looking down on people for just one second?” I muttered under my breath, too low for anyone to hear—thankfully. The secondhand embarrassment was enough to make me want to hide under the table.

“I'll be glad to be outshined!” Dianca beamed, unbothered by the arrogance. She stood up with graceful excitement and grabbed Myrrh by the wrist. “I’ll introduce you to the band!”

“Okay,” Myrrh said with a softer smile, her earlier bravado melting into something more sincere. She gave me a quick glance—brief but loaded with unspoken energy—then let herself be led toward the stage.

The three of us stayed behind, quietly nursing what was left of our drinks and desserts, the low hum of conversation filling the gaps between anticipation.

Dianca returned a minute later, alone.

Then the lights shifted ever so slightly, and we turned to see Myrrh standing on the stage.

She looked composed—too composed. Her hand gripped the mic with calm confidence as the band began to play a lively, upbeat tune. When she opened her mouth and sang, her voice soared across the diner. It was clear from the first note that Myrrh wasn’t bluffing—she owned every pitch, every line. 

Her vocals didn’t have Dianca’s silky softness, but what she lacked in tenderness, she made up for in sheer vocal power. When the chorus hit, she nailed the high notes with ease, her voice piercing through the air like a blade dipped in sugar.

A wave of cheers erupted from the diners.

“Wow!” Dianca clapped enthusiastically, eyes glowing with pride. “I knew it! Myrrh’s a natural-born diva!”

Then she turned to me, her smile turning mischievous as she nudged me with her elbow. 

“You’ll be so lucky. Just confess your love to her already!”

I choked on my smoothie.

The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!