The Atalante's cockpit was filled with the piercing sound of alarms.

"We only have test rifles!" Emma yelled, her voice laced with panic.

Six enemy machines had appeared out of nowhere. Their origin was unknown, and no mothership was visible nearby.

The comms with the transport ship were still active, and Percy's frantic voice filled the cockpit.

"Who are they affiliated with?" "Unknown. There are similar models, but we can't identify them." "What's their objective? Do they have any demands?" "None."

Emma, piloting the Atalante, focused on the attacking enemies, ignoring the chaos unfolding on the comms.

(My rifles are useless, but I have blades!)

She tossed the test rifle aside, pulling a laser blade from its holster on the Atalante's side skirt. The blade glowed with a pale blue light as she gripped it in her right hand. She raised her shield, attached to her left arm, to guard herself.

"Damn!"

Immediately, the enemy unleashed a barrage of bullets from their rifles. They possessed not only real firearms but also optical weapons.

As expected of small mobile knights, they were maneuverable and agile.

Emma was forced to evade the enemy's relentless attacks.

But...

"Why isn't it powering up!?"

The Atalante’s power output was far less than usual. She looked at the machine and noticed a pale blue electrical discharge emanating from the swollen joints.

"It's not even at full power yet!?"

Emma quickly descended, and three enemy machines wielding spears attacked the spot where she had been moments before. She managed to dodge them, but the Atalante wasn’t responding as usual, hindering her ability to use it at full capacity.

(Even when I try to increase the output, it feels like it’s slipping away. This isn’t the Atalante.)

The energy seemed to leak out from the joints, even when she tried to use it.

The Atalante was letting out the required energy from its joints.

Only now did Emma understand the source of the initial feeling of incongruity.

"Lieutenant Rodman, the Seventh's defense force has deployed. You have three minutes, escape at full speed!"

All she had to do was hold out until reinforcements arrived.

But the enemy seemed to be seasoned fighters, making it difficult for Emma to fight back.

Even with its current limitations, the Atalante was faster than the enemy machines.

But it couldn’t turn as sharply. And the unfamiliar handling in this situation was dangerous.

Emma’s breathing became ragged.

Her hand reached for a box on the cockpit's control panel with three buttons.

Percy, realizing what Emma was about to do, desperately tried to reason with her.

"Don’t remove the limiter!"

Despite her pleas, Emma pressed the buttons in the correct order to release the limiter.

"For a short time, even in this state..."

As the Atalante’s limiter was released, the machine emitted a yellow light.

The electrical discharge from its joints changed color from blue to yellow. The amount of electricity increased, clearly signaling a change.

“With this, I can...what?”

She stepped on the foot pedals and moved the controls, but the usual resistance was gone. It felt as if she were moving through empty space, light as air. The Atalante didn’t respond.

She expected to feel gravity within the cockpit, but the first thing she felt was the shaking of an explosion.

“No… it can’t be…”

The Atalante's joints began to catch fire. Its arms and legs exploded from the elbows and knees.

The Atalante, now defenseless, drifted in place. The enemy seemed confused.

But the enemy machines aimed their guns at the Atalante.

(I’m going to die?!)

Emma had no choice but to acknowledge her imminent death.

Suddenly, the Moheeb, which had launched from the transport ship, attacked using its work tools. A nail-gun shot a spike that deflected the enemy’s rifle fire.

"Are you okay, kiddo?"

Doug was there to help.

"Doug!"

Behind him was Larry, piloting another Moheeb.

"Launching with a machine without proper weaponry is suicide. You’re dead," Larry said.

The two Moheebs were painted yellow, likely because they were work machines.

Larry also attacked the enemy with his nail gun, but it wasn’t a weapon, so it wasn’t very effective. His aim was off, and the enemy easily dodged his attacks.

The three of them were on the verge of being destroyed, but luckily, the Seventh Weaponry Factory’s defense force arrived sooner than expected.

"Are you alright! We’ll handle this from here."

The enemy machines retreated immediately, fleeing the arriving battleships and mobile knights.

Where were they going without a mothership? The Seventh Weaponry Factory’s defense force chased after them.

Doug spoke to Emma.

“You’re alive, kiddo.”

"D-Doug, I…"

Emma cried. Doug sighed before speaking.

"If you’re on the battlefield, you can get killed. If you're not ready for that, quit the army now..."

He thought Emma was afraid of dying, but it was something else.

“I… I destroyed the Atalante.”

"What? That’s the least of our concerns right now!"

“It’s not!”

Emma retorted fiercely, then sobbed uncontrollably in the cockpit.

“For me, the Atalante was proof that I could be a knight. Finally, I thought I could get closer to that person.”

Emma’s tears wouldn’t stop.

She couldn't even reach the back of that person she admired, let alone see them.

But she thought that the Atalante would bring her closer.

Even though it was a distant dream, it was an important mobile knight that could help her close the distance, even slightly.

And she couldn’t forgive herself for destroying it due to her own mistake.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Atalante.”

...

The End of the Atalante

The Atalante, in its mangled state, had been returned to the hangar. Its limbs were severed and tied down with wires, as if it had been bound and dismembered.

Emma, knees drawn up to her chest, floated in the weightlessness of the hangar, staring at the machine.

(It’s my fault. I removed the limiter. If I hadn’t, this wouldn’t have happened.)

She wished she could go back and change things.

She looked up at the Atalante.

“I’m sorry, Atalante. I may not be able to finish you.”

It had self-destructed due to the overload after the modifications.

This was a huge failure for the Atalante's development team.

The upper ranks of the Third Weaponry Factory were already considering canceling the project.

The faction pushing for continued special machine development was strong, but there was a large opposing faction as well.

Percy's troubled expression indicated that cancelling the project was a strong possibility.

After spending a significant budget on modifications, it was only natural that they’d call it quits if there were no results.

Emma cried.

“I'm a useless knight.”

She had finally gotten the chance to make a difference, but she had ruined it with her own hands. It was a tragedy.

...

Siren's Acquisition

The Feet mercenary group's starship was being repaired in the Seventh Weaponry Factory’s drydock.

Siren, the commander, watched her three ships being serviced and sighed softly.

She stood by a window in a deserted corridor, staring outside. A voice came from the shadows behind her.

“It seems you won’t be completing the task?”

Siren didn't turn towards the shadows, but crossed her arms and answered, "No. The client requested destruction. I saw the footage, and it was a self-destruct."

The client wouldn’t be pleased.

Siren inquired about other jobs.

“How was the new model, by the way? I thought it would be difficult to deliver a decisive blow with a small, maneuverable machine.”

The other mission was to test a prototype that another weaponry factory had supplied. It wasn't a new model but a modified production model designed for space pirates and mercenaries.

“The Buckler? As you said, Commander, it’s not that good, but we can find a way to use it. What about customizing one for you?”

Siren nodded, agreeing with her subordinate's assessment. But she hesitated when it came to a custom model.

The Buckler was a mobile knight given to the mercenary group for field testing.

This fourteen-meter-tall, round mobile knight, classified as small, had a simple exterior and structure.

It was robust and easy to maintain, and one of the Empire’s weaponry factories was planning to sell it to space pirates and mercenaries.

The Feet were responsible for the final test - field testing.

But Siren didn’t like it.

“I don’t like it.”

“But don’t you think it’s time you replaced your current machine, Commander?”

“Yes, you’re right. Maybe I should pick something out here.”

“Are you buying one?”

"Not a chance.”

Siren shook her head, narrowed her eyes, and thought about the next-generation mobile knight that the Banfield family had commissioned from the Seventh Weaponry Factory.

It was the Teumessia, a machine with an assist function removed for ace pilots.

“I have a machine I like, so I’ll just borrow it when I need to cause trouble.”

Her subordinate asked, “So, are we sticking to the plan?”

“Of course.”