03 Drifting in Space
First, maintain current velocity.
Engage the Ether Reactor—once shut down, it will not restart.
Having removed the limiter, it will cease functioning shortly.
It may never restart.
Still, it was necessary to extend its operation by even a little.
Use the remaining ether in the hull to adjust trajectory.
Orient the vessel toward the direction the cruiser *Lia* was facing just before overlighting.
Then, slight deceleration.
Speed is already sufficient.
Yet, without adjustment, Jin’s body cannot endure it.
Reduce speed to the point where inertial control can counteract the acceleration.
Even this will be taxing over time, but for now, distancing from the rear cluster of ASIDs was the priority.
At this velocity, gradual separation is possible.
If pursued, acceleration must resume.
“The convoy… still invisible.”
Approximately ten million kilometers.
The distance separating Jin and the convoy now.
Closer would have been better, but at this distance, the asteroids are neither suitable for resource extraction nor can they be ignored—too large to disregard, too small to navigate around.
Forcing the convoy through would result in severe damage.
Thus, they remain on standby at a safe location—impossibly far for Jin now.
At the current cruising speed of three kilometers per second, roughly forty days of uninterrupted travel at this pace would bring them to the convoy.
Assuming perfect alignment, of course.
The maximum range for the assault frame’s sensors to detect the convoy is ten thousand kilometers.
Jin calculates the allowable margin of angular error.
“0.05 degrees…”
It is absolutely off course.
Jin knew this with certainty.
The migrant convoy emits no beacon.
The reason is simple.
It would attract ASID.
Thus, the warships record their entire distance traveled, calculating the convoy’s position relative to their own movements.
Lose sight of it once—then, at that instant, adrift in the void.
The assault frames lack the computational capacity for such calculations.
In other words, Jin was now—lost in space.
He suppresses his ragged breath.
Losing composure means the end has come.
He does not intend to end here.
He will not leave Mio alone.
Oxygen cannot be wasted.
The installed closed-loop life support system will last a week.
In the worst case, induced torpor through medication could extend that slightly.
Meaning, he will reach his limit around twenty percent past the target journey.
(Could have used cryo-sleep… but no.)
Jin exhales, dismissing it as fiction.
He becomes aware of a faint tremor in his hands.
Noticing it, he lifts the corner of his lips.
It’s fine. He tells himself, calmly.
The craft is still operational.
He is not injured.
Above all, the cruiser *Lia* escaped ahead of schedule.
They will return to the convoy, call for reinforcements, and repel the Queen-type.
They might even conduct one search mission.
That would create a possibility of being found.
Thus, despite the need to avoid movement, the current situation forces him to pursue.
Still, overall, it is better.
Far better than two years ago, adrift in solitude.
Still, it will likely be a grueling week.
Jin thinks this.
He thought this already 190 hours ago.
Repeating cycles of sleep and wakefulness… his current position is now unknown.
Food, however, is never a concern—cube rations are sufficient.
Jin thinks, this one is truly the best.
If he ever returns, he would send a letter of gratitude.
ASID has already been shed.
The beacon built into the assault frame is active.
Yet the range is at most ten thousand kilometers.
Wide across a planet, but unreliable in this void.
Oxygen is conserved to the maximum—two hours remaining.
No friendly forces, no ASID readings nearby.
Alone.
Jin recalls what Jake told him.
That Mio felt alone, even within the shelter.
Perhaps this is what Mio felt—this kind of unease.
To carry this every day must be unbearable.
He cannot help but pray that the days he spent with Jin had eased that loneliness.
Out here, in this vast universe.
Even if someone searched for him.
Jin smiles wryly.
It would be no less difficult than finding a single needle in a sandbox.
Still, there had been a possibility.
It had been a gamble with poor odds.
And he had lost that gamble.
That was all.
Jin could only laugh at how things had turned out.
Undoubtedly, he was the one in the Third Fleet closest to death.
He had managed to hold on until now—but it seemed the time for tribute had finally come.
"...I never got to ask what tribute even means, from Rei."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Jin reprimanded himself for wasting oxygen.
He knew the phrase “time to pay tribute,” but not what tribute actually was.
Rei had been investigating it—yet the chance to learn the answer never came.
Two hours left.
Still two hours.
He would not abandon hope.
Even if these were his final two hours, he would fight to the end.
He would never again abandon his life like this.
Jin’s vision, renewed by that resolve.
Something crossed the corner.
"Impossible."
Hope stirred in his heart—rescue?
But the figure there was far too unexpected.
"Black Knight!?"
The humanoid ASID that had attacked the convoy.
It was there.
Doubt the illusion.
Too illogical.
Yet Jin’s Raven’s sensors confirmed its presence.
There had been nothing there just a moment ago.
The only possible explanation: direct overlight into this sector.
Astronomical odds.
The chance of encountering it here, in this remote corner of space, bordered on miracle.
Jin wondered if the opponent was equally bewildered.
Its movements were unnaturally sluggish.
Perhaps it hadn’t noticed the reactor shutdown on his side.
But that faint hope vanished as the Black Knight drew nearer.
It was clearly tracking him.
Closer, and the details become clear.
Both arms, severely damaged, had already been repaired.
But the head. The right eye, where Jin had driven the Ether Dagger, remained unrepaired.
Looking at the scar-like mark left behind, Jin thought it seemed as though the entity were saying it would not vanish until the final reckoning.
The remaining left eye glowed red.
Restart the Ether Reactor.
Power supply rate is dropping.
The initial limiter removal had clearly taken its toll.
— Can I shake it off...?
Another voice escapes.
Under these conditions, a proper fight is impossible.
Jin's physical limits have already been reached.
Dogfights would exceed the body's endurance.
Even one sharp maneuver would cause unconsciousness.
Chance of victory: one in ten thousand.
Yet the opponent's movements were strangely slow.
That is the only opening.
No consideration for consequences. Maximum acceleration.
Evade for two hours remaining.
There is nothing left but to rely once more on a miracle-level probability.
To entrust one's final hope to mere fortune is enough to make one want to weep.
For Jin, betting one's life on something so uncertain is the worst possible outcome.
Dependence on others is unnatural to him.
Maximum acceleration.
The body screamed in protest.
Consciousness began to fade.
Even at this speed, the Queen had been left behind.
Yet the Black Knight — had caught up.
A detached part of Jin heard a quiet whisper: that was to be expected.
The reactor output of the Black Knight and the Queen, whom he had been chasing just a week prior, were equal.
And there was an incomparable difference in size.
Thus, the Black Knight should be capable of far greater speed than the Queen — several times over.
He gritted his teeth.
Pulled back sharply to evade the reaching hand.
The Raven decelerated to zero in an instant — the Black Knight surged past.
Second acceleration. Chasing the opponent’s back.
This is it.
If evasion is impossible, the only option is to force the opponent down.
Both hands on the rifles.
Maximize convergence rate.
A shot infused with ether beyond limit—only one shot to endure.
Hit. The rifles disintegrated simultaneously.
Where the flash cleared, the Black Knight remained intact.
Last time, the attack had caused damage. This time, it was deflected.
The opponent learns. Evolves.
The Black Knight held the Long Sword’s hilt toward him, using it as a shield.
The Black Knight reversed.
Direct melee combat.
Jin struggles with bare hands—still too far.
Dodge the roundhouse kick. The Black Knight’s fist strikes again, impacting his abdomen.
The shock overwhelmed his body, weakened by drifting life. Jin’s consciousness shattered.