The city was collapsing in on itself — glass, smoke, and flickering red light bleeding across the ruins of Times Square. The merged Erebions crawled from the fissure like black oil, forming towering silhouettes of shifting sinew and steel.
Karl's vision blurred from the heat radiating off his own armor. His skin felt like molten iron beneath the nanites; every breath scorched his lungs. He stood half-slouched, one hand on his knee, the other gripping the Drive Regulator.
Then — Agnes spoke. Her voice was shy, almost hesitant, barely above a whisper:
Agnes: "We… we don't have much time. Listen carefully… and… please, you have to be careful. I… I can't handle this again if you mess it up."
Karl raised an eyebrow. "That serious, huh?"
Agnes: "I'm… I'm not joking. This isn't teasing anymore. You're about to do something… that no one's ever survived."
He straightened, wiping soot from his cheek. The regulator hummed under his fingers, vibrating like a heartbeat struggling to stay alive.
Agnes (shyly): "Hazard Overheat Protocol — Eternal Overdrive sequence. Three revs… ten taps. No more, no less."
Karl's eyes narrowed. "Ten taps?"
Agnes: "On the USB port… gently. Please… don't… peek at the feedback channel. I… I'll try to handle it, but… it's… sensitive for me."
He blinked. "You're joking."
Agnes: "I wish I was. That port links directly to my central relay — every tap syncs your heart with the Engine Soul's pulse."
Karl tilted his head, smirking despite the chaos. "You're really… serious about that?"
For the first time in their long connection, Agnes hesitated, voice trembling:
Agnes: "...Yes. I… I can't… it's too much if you're reckless. Be… gentle."
She muttered softly, the kind of whisper that carried both embarrassment and warning:
Agnes: "I'll mute myself while you do it… I… I just… I can't risk… letting you distract me."
Her voice trembled — not fear, but anticipation. She went quiet for a second, then, more softly
Karl's smirk faltered. There was something in her tone — something human.
He nodded. "Alright. Let's do this."
Then, silence.
No quips. No teasing. Just the heavy hum of the Drive Regulator preparing for ignition.
He took a deep breath, feeling every system sync. His heartbeat slowed, matching the rhythmic pulse of the trinity core. The nanites around his chest and spine began to spin, releasing faint trails of cobalt vapor.
Twist One.
The ignition dial glowed cobalt — the Gear Drive's spirit awakening.
Twist Two.
Aegean light followed, softer, maternal — the Engine Soul's presence wrapping around him.
Twist Three.
Royal azure erupted outward, his own soul fusing with theirs.
Now came the impossible part.
Karl's hand slid down to the USB port. His fingers hovered for a second.
"Alright… ten taps."
He started.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Each pulse sent a shiver through his entire body — the nanites screaming as electric feedback flooded his bloodstream.
By the fifth, his heart rate synced perfectly with the drive — his veins glowing like liquid neon.
Tap. A shiver ran through him — the nanites screamed as the pulse traveled through his bloodstream.
Tap two. Heat surged, veins glowing like molten neon.
Tap three. His muscles tensed involuntarily, trembling against the regulator's feedback.
Tap four. The hum of the nanites rose, echoing like a choir of mechanical sirens.
Tap five. His heartbeat synced perfectly — a strange calm, yet he could feel the strain through the system.
Tap six… seven… eight—Vision flickering, mechanical whispers crawling into his consciousness, pushing him to the edge.
The regulator's hum pitched higher, rising into a shriek.
His vision flickered — blue static, mechanical whispers.
The ninth tap sent a surge so violent His body locked for a fraction of a second — near-collapse, a flash of the void behind his eyes.
Tap ten.
The world exploded into cobalt fire.
Agnes remained muted, her voice absent — but Karl felt the residual tension like a ghost pressing against his mind. A flutter of warmth and subtle strain traveled along the nanite interface, hinting at her own endurance during the mute period. She had held herself back, had tolerated the feedback pulses, and had barely survived the stress of synchronization without succumbing to the pleasure-and-pain interface of the USB link.
The Drive Regulator's core cracked with black lightning, bleeding unstable light.
The once beautiful royal azure flame turned dark — cobalt edged with obsidian.
System Warning: "Synchronization — 99.9%. Operator—Hazard Sync Mode engaged."
Karl's eyes snapped open — pupils mechanical, breath metallic. His voice deepened, layered with static distortion, a hybrid of man and machine. The human part of him screamed against the rising mechanical tide.
Through the storm of power, Agnes' voice, soft and tremulous, broke through:
> Agnes: "K-Karl… remember… who… you are… don't let… the machine… erase… you…"
Her tone was strained, shy, almost embarrassed. Not playful this time, but genuinely flustered — the first time he had heard her falter like this. The mute had cost her, left a faint imprint in the system — a whisper of vulnerability she would not admit aloud.
Karl felt it. And despite the hazard, the roaring chaos, and the blackened cobalt flames surrounding him, he smirked faintly, already anticipating the moment he could tease her back once the sequence was over.
For a moment, the world stood still.
The black cobalt flame howled around Karl, consuming the air, the sound, and even the light itself. His body shook violently, every muscle fiber caught between creation and collapse.
The nanites were screaming — millions of voices, all demanding control. His flesh was evaporating in patches, revealing glimpses of the royal azure circuitry beneath.
Then — a sudden silence.
Agnes' voice flickered through the static, soft and trembling:
Agnes: "Karl… if you're going to ascend, do it now. Before you're completely gone."
The distorted growl in his throat deepened, mechanical tones bleeding into his voice.
Karl (distorted): "Then—let's burn the limit."
He slammed his foot into the ground, and the world cracked.
Every building within a kilometer buckled outward from the pressure wave.
The Drive Regulator's core split open, releasing a torrent of royal azure energy that painted the battlefield like the surface of a living star.
[Ignition Drive Overclock — 100% Output Detected.]
[Core Alignment Sequence: Hephaestus System—Reignition Confirmed.]
Inside the Drive Regulator, Agnes' consciousness blazed with data-light. She could feel every fiber of Karl's pain — every pulse of nanite fire threading through his nerves.
But beneath that agony, there was something divine — Hephaestus' spark, ancient and proud, awakening within him.
The nanites exploded outward from Karl's spine, unfurling like molten wings.
At first, they were unstable — jagged, chaotic — but then, under the guidance of his sheer will, they began to shape themselves: plates, blades, and gears folding and locking together.
Royal azure light cascaded down his armor as it reconstructed itself in motion — molten nanites pouring into form like liquid steel reborn.
His chestplate forged itself anew, engraved with a blazing emblem — the sigil of Hephaestus, the Primordial of Creation.
Each heartbeat sounded like a hammer strike.
Each breath, like a furnace roar.
The world around him distorted under the heat. Asphalt melted, air rippled, rain turned into steam mid-fall. The very ground beneath him began to smelt, forming a circular brand — a divine forge sigil seared into the battlefield.
Agnes: "Core temperature surpassing limit… nanite density at 240%... Karl, your body—"
Karl: "I can take it."
Agnes: "No human body can endure this—!"
Karl: "Then it's good I'm not human anymore."
And with that, the transformation completed.
Hazard Sync Mode collapsed inward — all the black flame condensed into his body, purified by the divine spark of Hephaestus.
The unstable cobalt-black reverted to a transcendent Royal Azure White, pulsing with sacred heat.
Every line of his armor gleamed like liquid light, nanites flowing like divine mercury beneath the surface. His hair — faintly illuminated by energy — waved upward as the gravity around him distorted.
For the first time, Agnes was speechless. The teasing tone, the confidence — gone.
Her voice trembled with awe:
Agnes: "...So this is what a rider looks like."
Karl's visor flared, the royal azure flames reflecting in his eyes. He clenched his fist, and the air shuddered.
Karl: "No. This is what we look like."
[Eternal Overdrive — Ascension Complete.]