11 Descent Failure

『Ah, Mio?』

『Then Dad and Mom. I’m sorry I couldn’t show you my grandchild’s face…』

『I’m sorry to interrupt your resolve, but you’re over weight. Please discard all excess armament.』

『…Huh?』

Surprised by the unexpected words, Mio glances at her altimeter.

The violent sensation of descent has vanished—almost entirely.

The rate of descent has slowed slightly.

『May… you’re…』

The cause is astonishingly clear.

May’s unit is wrapped around the rear of Mio’s unit, clinging like a tether.

Its thrust is lifting Mio’s entire frame.

Mio realizes then that when the descent failed, the receiving antenna must have been damaged—she hadn’t heard her counterpart’s voice until the connection switched to contact mode.

『If you’ve got time to be shocked, lose some weight! The current speed will destroy the frame itself!』

"Uh... a-ah. S-sorry."

Hastened by May's words, Yuriya hastily purged excess equipment from the frame.

Watching parts fall away ahead of her, she thought with dread: how much will this cost? Surely there's no way she'll have to pay for it...?

Yuriya's thoughts drifted momentarily into an irrelevant direction.

Shaking it off, she focused her attention on May.

May was already in descent posture. That was the realization.

"You're kidding... You actually detached the Valute!?"

『If there were another option, I'd be interested to hear it.』

What are you doing, idiot! May, you idiot! Utterly foolish! You'd have been safe if you'd just kept descending normally... Why did you come here...?

At this rate, they'd both crash—no, it was highly likely they would. The Leopard’s thrust wasn’t that inefficient; it couldn’t support two frames with just one unit’s output.

She wept, realizing Yuri had dragged May into it as well.

'Yes... I didn’t think I’d be mocked here. Kou! Contact successful! No backup needed. Please observe the descent point!'

'Leave it to me. I’ll record it perfectly. Both of you stay alert.'

'Sasamori too...! What are you two even doing?'

From the tone, it became clear May had failed to make contact, Kou would then disconnect the Valute and descend.

Why take such a reckless risk.

'Platoon leader. Are you an idiot?'

'Apparently, quite the idiot.'

'Ugh, why do you two have to act so foolish even now!'

'Because we asked the obvious question, didn’t we?'

'We’re a team. If a teammate’s in danger, we help. Isn’t that the way?'

Yet Yuriya thought it reckless, even now—until she considered the opposite perspective.

She would have done the same.

"Understood, Yuriya. The descent trajectory is completely compromised. At this speed, the airframe cannot sustain the strain."

"Yes."

There was no time for emotion, not with the resolve of the two who had come to rescue.

The situation remained critical, even if slightly improved.

"Then we aim for the sea. A water landing is preferable to a crash on land."

"Yes. But without the Valute system, the aircraft—"

"Will have to be abandoned. Drifting at sea, or—"

"Or we aim for a point closer to land."

The Leopard’s survival kit, prepared for this descent operation, included an inflatable raft.

With it, survival at sea or reaching land would be possible.

Still, the problem remained.

"Speed."

"Yes. At this velocity, the airframe would disintegrate upon hitting the surface."

A solution to that problem.

Must be found within the remaining forty minutes.

"Come to think of it..."

Yuria suddenly recalls.

A conversation she once overheard between Jin and Sharon.

"Back then, the Instructor mentioned something. The method to bypass the Ether Reactor's limiter."

"Certainly, but... can we actually do that? With our units?"

"Unsure. But at least the hardware should allow it."

Yuria considers.

According to what she heard, it was done during the humanoid mass assault.

On a surplus Leopard frame, they had used it.

Is there a difference in specifications between the trainee Leopard and the standard combat model?

Probably not. If any, it would be software-based, not hardware.

But if the software cannot accommodate it, it ultimately becomes impossible.

‘Then there’s hope, right? Kou! Could you hear me!’

‘…Just barely.’

The two units, already veering off course, are about to vanish into the shadow of Planet Merce.

Before that happens.

‘Requesting relay of communications! Urgently!’

To assess whether the current idea is feasible.

“Reactor limiter disengagement. That part is possible…”

Shirley’s expression darkens upon hearing the report.

“Setting transfer from our end makes execution possible.”

Jin’s unit configuration.

Simply copy it directly.

The issue arises at that moment.

“While the setting is being updated, the unit will shut down. Meaning, thrust will be lost.”

Moreover, Yuriya’s unit cannot perform the update at all—the receiving antenna is damaged.

May’s unit required a temporary shutdown to barely maintain support for the two machines.

If we enter the planet’s shadow, communication from our side will be lost. If the update is interrupted, the system may not restart properly.

Restart after update. Then execute descent sequence with unfamiliar settings.

Every moment spent hesitating is precious.

A delay of even one second could mean life or death.

Yet Shirley cannot make a decision—faced with this uncertainty.

If only she knew how long the update would take.

This situation involves too many variables. Determining the final timeline requires time itself to calculate.

Shirley’s sleeve is tugged by something.

…Eh?

We can make it.

Mio is there, somehow.

Mio, who should be confined in Jin’s room.

She is bleeding from the nose.

“Mio-chan. Why are you here?”

May, you'll make it in time.

Why. Something like that.

Various questions pass through—why that? and the like.

Sharon swallowed it all and made her decision.

There was no better option, anyway.

Whether the two survive this remains a one-in-eight chance.

Then.

Initiating机体 update! Trainee Bellwale. Place机体 in update standby mode!

May complied immediately with Sharon's decision.

Switching the unit's configuration, perhaps.

A faint operational sound comes from the communicator.

Mixed in among them.

Hey. Yuriya. Once the update starts, communication will be cut off.

Yes.

Since this might be the last time, I wanted to say...

It's not the end.

Yuria cuts through it decisively.

It's not the end—because you're here with me.

...Yes. We'll speak again later.

Yeah, later then.

May's transmission cuts out.

Thrust is lost. Altitude begins to drop rapidly.

Time remaining: twelve minutes.

"Yeah. It's fine. May's always late... but when it really matters, she's always made it just in time. She'll make it this time too."

Recalling it, such tightrope walking was routine.

This tightrope walk will be no different. No need to be anxious.

Ah. But...

"Really. Just waiting is painful."

A memory surfaces—Jin had complained once, long ago.

The discomfort of being unable to act alone.

The fear of surrendering one's fate to another.

But...

"Still, yeah. I believe in you, May."

When the other is someone you truly believe in, surrendering everything to them feels natural.

"You're the type who delivers when it counts."

The two craft vanish into the planet's shadow.

Comms with the cruiser cut out.

The thruster glow remains unlit.

Nine minutes to surface.

The craft’s camera captures the ground.

Course correction using the final remaining thruster.

Aiming for the sea, close enough to land.

Eight minutes to surface.

This is the limit.

Even if thrust is regained beyond this point, the acceleration already incurred cannot be fully counteracted.

At that thought, Yuria felt herself suspended in midair.

Only the sudden deceleration after prolonged downward acceleration caused that sensation.

That meant upward acceleration.

Thrust had been restored.

Seven minutes to surface.

The craft wavers.

Air resistance, turbulence—various forces attempt to seize the trajectory.

Both remain silent.

Opening their mouths in this vibration would risk biting their tongues.

Then, impact with water.

A violent water column rose from the previously calm surface.

Grabbing only the survival kit from the frame, May ejected.

The assault frame was not designed for underwater operation. It had already begun sinking.

"Yuria! Where are you, Yuria!"

No response. Had she fainted during impact? Or was she drowning?

Various possibilities flashed through her mind.

May's limbs were tangled by something as she attempted to dive and check the cockpit's status.

"May, no, no, no— you idiot, aaaaah—"

She had thought it was a native organism and raised her hand to strike it—then froze at the sobbing voice.

"Yuria!"

The face was a ruin. Whether seawater, tears, or nasal discharge, the substance was indistinguishable, a thick, dripping mess.

"Thank you, thank you so much—I love you, I love you so much!"

"Ah. I understand, I understand—please let go, Yuria. You'll drown."

Still, May did not pull away.

In the middle of the sea, Yuria wept, barking like a dog, holding May tightly.