Shiori ordered everyone to move—fast—toward the spaceport.
But Airi immediately cut in:
“Shiori-sensei, koko ni fune o mawashimasu ne.
All of you—head to the construction site,
where the big crane is. [ ･ω･]☞
It’s faster to get there than the spaceport.
I’ll pick you up there.”
Shiori nodded.
“Itte ii.”
But she didn’t get to finish—
Airi was already a couple hundred feet ahead,
gliding in bursts like a digital ghost.
The drone tried to lock onto her—
failed; the lens just twitched.
They all moved toward the construction site—
the same one where Zeros did his “leaps of faith” off the crane.
It only took a few minutes,
and when they stepped onto the site,
Airi was already waiting—
the ship hovering above the ground,
rear fuselage wide open like the mouth of a copper beast.
The drone flew up and circled the ship,
capturing angle after angle—like it was trying to shoot the perfect INSTAGRIM™ clip: ship, likes, panic—everything in place.
Dick bolted in first,
Shiori right behind him,
then Jackie,
and finally the Author stumbled in last, breathing hard.
Jackie yelled:
“Big-Eye—get inside!”
The drone, hearing its “affectionate” nickname,
did a wide sweep, spun once, and darted in after them.
The fuselage sealed shut.
The ship shuddered,
lifted,
and shot off—hard acceleration—
in the same direction Z-P-N-E-S 2.0 had torn through the sky.
Shiori took the pilot’s seat.
The Author stood behind her, gripping the back of the chair like a desperate professor stuck in a flight simulator.
Airi slid over to her navigation terminal.
Dick and Jackie dropped near the training rig.
“Well, well, well,” Dick started,
“dear gremlins, as you can see… some shit is definitely going down.”
The drone hovered in front of him, filming Dick and Jackie so carefully it looked like they were hosting a space news broadcast—not two fools in panic.
“Airi-chan, where are we flying?” Jackie asked.
The drone instantly pivoted, placing Airi in frame.
Airi smiled—with her eyes and her voice.
“.:☆:･'[⌒―⌒]]] We’ll find out in a second.
Fenikkusu-kun, where are you right now?”
Rusted Phoenix’s voice came through the terminal:
“Oh, Airi-chan. Always a pleasure to hear your voice.
We’re on Schrottnadel Island—couple hundred miles from Dumsta.
Captain and F.O. are on land, I’m keeping watch over them.
And… Airi-chan… I’m picking up some strange data here.
Something’s happening.
If you want to see it for yourself—hurry.”
Airi nodded like he could see her.
“Hai, Otōto-kun. [✿◠ᴗ◠]
Hang tight.
And don’t let Buraindi-kun die.
Most important—don’t let Zerosu-onī-chan start clapping, okay?
He’ll wipe the whole planet.
Would be a shame… we’ve grown so used to it.”
The connection cut.
Dick snorted.
“What the hell is Schrottnadel?”
Airi opened her mouth, but the Author jumped in faster:
“‘Scrap Needle.’
Literal German translation.
An artificial island, formed back when Dumsta was just starting out.
Like everything on this planet—it’s just an old orbital junk mining rig.”
He took off his coat and hat, slipping back into his usual unhinged nomad-professor look, and glanced at Airi.
“Airi, dear…
This is a level-three toxic bio-waste environment.
Where’s disposal around here?
I cannot endure this smell for another second.
Even your lovely spa-fragrance ship can’t overpower it…”
A small cleaning bot rolled across the floor.
Without thinking, the Author tossed his coat and hat onto it.
The bot proudly “accepted the waste”
and rolled away.