The moment the fight was officially declared over, Nova acted without hesitation. She immediately dispatched the collector ship, equipped with a medipod, to retrieve the Trinarian fighter's body. Simultaneously, she ensured Aron could rearm himself with a fresh set of nanomachines. For the first time, this process was being done openly, marking a significant shift.
Previously, nanomachines had been classified technology, their existence kept strictly under wraps. However, that secrecy had been unintentionally broken when Nova used them to cover Aron’s exposed body during a critical moment, prioritizing his dignity over confidentiality. As a result, while the technology remained shrouded in mystery, its existence was now officially acknowledged, albeit without disclosing any further details.
Aron retrieved a small canister from the ship and opened it, revealing a liquid-like substance inside. Pouring it onto his hand, the substance behaved unnaturally, defying gravity as it began to spread across his body. It seamlessly shifted and restructured itself, forming into a complete set of clothing—shirts, shoes, and socks—all perfectly tailored to fit him. With his modesty restored, he moved to another canister, this one bearing a more intricate design.
Repeating the process, the new nanomachines spread over his body, but instead of forming casual clothing, they transformed into the same armor he had worn during his earlier battles. The armor materialized in its full, imposing glory, ready for combat, as if it had always been a part of him.
Aron reached into his gear and pulled out a pair of glasses, an item instantly recognizable to every citizen of the Empire regardless of their location. These glasses, a symbol of advanced technology, needed no introduction. Without hesitation, he placed them on his head, the nanomachines making way to leave the area unobstructed, seamlessly integrating the glasses into his otherwise impenetrable armor.
Satisfied with his preparations, Aron assumed a seated position, his posture serene and deliberate, reminiscent of a meditating monk. He closed his eyes, exuding an air of calm concentration that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the preceding battle.
[VR Simulation]
“I’m fine, I’m fine—so how about you calm down?” Aron spoke gently, his voice steady as he rubbed comforting circles on Rina's back. She clung to him with an intensity that suggested she might never let go, her embrace both protective and crushing.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” Rina’s voice trembled, a mixture of relief and frustration. “You looked like you were dead out there! And despite everything, you didn’t surrender!” While her anger was palpable, it was not aimed at Aron but at someone else entirely.
Nova, the apparent target of Rina’s ire, materialized nearby in her humanoid projection. Her expression was calm and collected as she offered her explanation.{Miss, there was nothing I could do at the time without risking interference with the recovery protocol that had already been initiated,} Nova said, her tone even yet apologetic. {I was monitoring him closely. In the event of any further life-threatening danger, I had prepared contingency measures. The ships were ready to breach the shield and extract him, though it would have resulted in an immediate loss of the match.}
Nova paused for a moment before continuing, carefully weaving a convincing story to shield the system’s involvement. {Unfortunately, during the recovery phase, certain operations require my access to be limited. It was a necessary precaution, though it restricted my ability to intervene sooner.} Her words were a careful blend of truth and misdirection, crafted to reassure Rina while safeguarding the secrecy of the system’s role.
Rina, hearing Nova’s explanation, didn’t immediately respond to her. Instead, she tilted her head, which was still pressed firmly against Aron’s chest, to look up at him for confirmation. Aron caught the mix of doubt in Rina’s eyes and the slight frustration in Nova’s projection, unable to suppress a laugh at the situation. His chuckle broke the tension, lightening the atmosphere a little.
Although the moment helped ease the mood, it didn’t dispel Rina’s worry entirely. Her voice softened, carrying a pleading tone as she buried her face deeper into his chest. “Can you not fight the next match? You’ve already secured the majority of victories a long time ago. There’s no need for you to fight her.”
Her words were heavy with emotion, knowing full well she was asking for something that stretched beyond her rights as his wife. Aron wasn’t just her husband—he was the emperor of a vast empire with over eighteen billion citizens across two-star systems. His responsibilities often carried the weight of more than personal desires, especially in situations like this, where a single decision could secure monumental benefits for his people. Despite understanding all this, Rina couldn’t help but ask, knowing the stakes were already greatly in their favor and only one fight remained.
Aron sighed softly, his fingers threading gently through her hair before he responded. “Should I do that?”
Rina’s head snapped up in surprise, almost colliding with his chin. Aron instinctively tilted his head back just in time to avoid the impact. Her wide-eyed expression of disbelief met his calm gaze. “Really? Are you really going to do it because I asked?” she asked, her voice tinged with surprise and a trace of hope.
“If you truly want me to step back from the next fight, I will,” Aron said, his tone sincere. “There’s no need to take unnecessary risks when we’ve already secured most of what we aimed for.”
Rina stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity or jest. But all she found was the undeniable truth in his gaze. He wasn’t joking—he meant it. A mixture of emotions surged through her: happiness that he would consider her request so deeply, and guilt for asking something that might compromise the empire’s long-term gains.
Her expression softened as she lowered her head again, her voice heavy with conflicting feelings. “As much as I want you to stop, I’ll leave the decision to you. No matter what you choose, I’ll stand by you.”
"Okay, I’ll think about it and decide," Aron replied gently, brushing away the tear trails streaking Rina’s face from her earlier crying.
He sighed softly and added, "But first, I need to see Mom, Dad, Henry, Felix, and Sarah—and calm them down too."
The weight of the day hit him as he realized this was just the first emotional encounter he’d have. His family and friends were undoubtedly shaken by what they had witnessed, and it was his responsibility to reassure them as well. Only after addressing their fears and easing their minds could he even begin to focus on the decision about his next fight.
Fortunately, the universal simulation’s time acceleration gave him a reprieve. Without it, the mere twenty minutes between matches wouldn’t have been nearly enough to console each of his friends and family members, who were no doubt equally, if not more, traumatized by what they’d seen. Aron mentally steeled himself for what lay ahead, knowing this was just another aspect of his duties—not as an emperor, but as a son, brother, husband, and friend.
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