Ready for the next mission, Kaelan?" Lena's voice crackled in my earpiece. "I'll be sending you the coordinates soon."
The site: a small junkyard at the edge of the city. Hills of broken electronics and rusted steel stretched under a gray sky, carrying the sharp stench of acid and ozone. The perfect throne for someone nicknamed "The Scrap Queen."
"Your target is a former military pilot, female, callsign: Scrap Queen," Lena's tone was cold and professional. "She refused to take leave, working overtime while helping kaelan grasp the mission in this sector. Your job is simple: convince her to leave. Avoid confrontation."
From behind the piles of wreckage, I saw her—a middle-aged woman with messy short hair and a face smeared with oil. She was soldering something inside the exposed panel of her Artifact.
And that Artifact…
"That's a Juggernaut model," I whispered, recognizing the heavy, box-like frame. But this Juggernaut looked worse than Rustbucket when I first found it. Its armor was patched with crude plates and eaten through with rust. "Why would she hold onto this?"
"Focus, Kaelan. Don't engage."
Too late. Scrap Queen turned. Her sharp eyes locked onto Rustbucket's silhouette. No surprise in her face—only a wide grin flashing uneven teeth.
"Ahhh! A VisItOr!" her raspy voice rang out. "Finally, the Foundation thinks I'm worth sending someone! Did you bring me spare parts?"
"We're just here to talk," I said, forcing Rustbucket to step forward. Its movements were still stiff, but at least it didn't topple.
"Talk?" She scoffed and spat on the ground. "The Foundation never just talks. They sent you—some boy with that weird red toy. They want to test you, right? Fine… let's give them a show!"
She vaulted into the Juggernaut's cockpit. The ancient machine growled, coughing out black smoke as it rose. Its eyes lit up—not blue, but a murky, egg-yolk yellow.
"Kaelan, fall back!" Lena warned, tension spiking in her voice.
But the Juggernaut was already moving. Not fast—but unstoppable, like a glacier of rust and steel.
BAAAAM!
A massive fist crashed into Rustbucket's shoulder. Not just a hit—the armor instantly turned reddish brown, peeling away in flakes.
"Instant rust?" I muttered in disbelief.
"That's Corrosion Touch!!!!!" Lena shouted. "Her Juggernaut's been modified with a high-oxidation field—it accelerates rust exponentially!"
I tried to retreat, but Rustbucket grew heavier with every step, each joint groaning. I ordered a counterstrike, but the arm dragged through the air like syrup. When it hit, it left no mark.
"Useless, BOY!" Scrap Queen laughed. "Your Metal will crumble to DuSst!! before you can EVeN scratch ME!!!!"
Another punch slammed Rustbucket's chest. The cockpit rattled. I heard the rust spreading. The pain wasn't the usual electric sting—it was rot, like my own bones turning hollow.
Panic clawed at me. I couldn't dodge forever. Rustbucket would collapse into a heap of rust.
No. That's not how this works. Dr. Aris told me—my Grit was about endurance. Confrontation.
I remembered the pain from the first time I touched Rustbucket. I remembered how I accepted it.
Instead of resisting, I focused on the rust crawling across the metal. I felt every bond snapping, every molecule crumbling. The pain became information.
We can't fight it, I thought, merging with Rustbucket's will. But we can shed it.
Juggernaut swung another crushing blow.
This time, Rustbucket didn't block or dodge. Instead, under the impact, its corroded chest and shoulder plates snapped off. The brittle armor broke away like a snake shedding its skin.
Beneath it—new metal shone. Darker, smoother, untouched by rust.
Juggernaut's fist swung through empty air, its weight thrown off balance.
"WhaAaaaAAt?!" Scrap Queen shouted.
Rustbucket looked ragged, but lighter, sharper. No longer bulky—a lean predator. With nothing left to corrode, the rust lost its grip.
Rustbucket surged forward, faster than ever, slipping past the Juggernaut's sluggish strike and driving a palm straight into its knee joint.
CRACK!!!!!
The ancient titan's leg snapped. Juggernaut collapsed in a thunderous crash, pinned by its own weight.
I loomed over the cockpit. Scrap Queen stared up at me, wide-eyed with disbelief.
"You… you're not controlling it," she whispered. "You're growing with it."
Lena arrived with her team, securing the area. As I climbed out, she studied Rustbucket's altered frame, eyes narrowing.
"Adaptation through sacrifice," she murmured, logging notes into her tablet. "It sheds what's doomed to protect the core. Brilliant."
I glanced at my hand. The spiral scar burned warm. For the first time, pain wasn't just torture. It was a path. A solution.
The "easy mission" was done. But deep inside, I realized the truth:
The Foundation didn't send me here to deal with a stubborn old woman.
They sent me to see what happens when Rustbucket faces a puzzle.
And today, we solved our first one.