My Instant Death Doomed Firefly to a Lifetime of Regret

An Ming had been deployed to the perilous A-1 Sector, where a colossal black hole loomed like a devouring maw. Shadows within its depths writhed with unseen horrors.

Firefly's post was the safer C-14 Outpost, nearer to Gramr's core. Yet "safer" meant little—even its "minor" Swarm waves dwarfed past invasions.

The Dead Sea churned beneath him, its metallic stench thick enough to taste. An Ming had fought Swarm before, but this scale defied comprehension.

Even with this power… can I change anything?

His sole purpose burned clearer: Keep Liuying alive.

The Azure Frontline's arrowhead shape stretched across the void, A-1 at its tip. An Ming's assignment here was both honor and death sentence—proof the Parliament acknowledged his unmatched prowess.

"Synchronization Rate: 50%. Warning: Approaching threshold."

He breached limits no Gene-Hack could endure. As Shadow once said: "You were born to wear that armor."

"Synchronization Rate: 70%. Overload imminent."

A blade forged from dawn itself slid from its sheath. Light pierced the black hole's hunger. Silver armor ignited—a walking sunrise.

Only a human could unlock the Molten Knight's true potential.

"I WILL—"

"IGNITE THE SEAS!"

White flames roared across the Dead Sea. Space itself warped under the inferno.

"Warning: Threshold exceeded."

"Synchronization Rate: 100%."

Life-force bled into the armor. An Ming plunged into the Dead Sea. For a heartbeat, silence—then the void exploded.

Flames devoured the stagnant graveyard, birthing an impassable stellar pyre. Shockwaves of searing light shredded Swarm legions to ash.

The endless tide faltered. Gramr's forces seized the reprieve—ships rallied, cannons charging behind flickering shields.

When consciousness returned, the Swarm had retreated. The first wave was broken—at catastrophic cost.

An Ming had sustained 100% synchronization. A miracle… or a revelation.

"From the start… I was piloting the prototype."

He turned to the shadows. Shadow emerged, clapping slowly. "I knew you'd ascend, An Ming. The Molten Knight's true purpose—"

"Godslaying."

The project's original ambition: to kill the Propagation itself, ending the Swarm scourge. The prototype housed traces of Aeonic blood—useless without a near-infinite fuel source.

Human will.

"You're mad," An Ming muttered.

Shadow's scarred hand trembled. "As a child, I watched the Swarm devour my world. That wound… still burns."

"It's coming."

An Ming stepped into the light, back to Shadow. "I can't lose."

"An Ming! Over here—!"

Firefly vaulted barricades, crashing into him. Her hands gripped his waist like lifelines.

"You're filthy," he chuckled, noting her smudged dress.

"Says the stray puppy!" She prodded his singed arm, voice softening. "Let me patch you up."

He sat as she bandaged him, her warmth pressed against his side.

"Why risk coming here?"

"Who'd save you if you bled out?" Her blush betrayed her scolding tone. "I'd… hate that."

He squeezed her hand. Her pulse answered—a silent vow.