"Who's calling me…?”

The trophy held high amidst a shower of colorful flowers, and the young people in combat fatigues stood on the expansive podium, with celebratory cheers reverberating through the entire mech platform.

"Congratulations on clinching the prestigious First Star Domain Mech League Championship!"

For K&D, a name once shrouded in the shadows of obscurity, the journey back to prominence was long, spanning a decade. This remarkable comeback ignited a wave of excitement among legions of fans.

Amid the lively virtual broadcast, the commentator's excited voice intertwined as the screen displayed the blue mech's energy cannon strike that secured victory. Particularly notable was the cannon's unique design—its perfect charging and firing caught the attention of many.

Two young apprentices stood together in the K&D team's temporary repair room, their eyes and brows brimming with shared joy and glory.

"We finally won! Next up is the Star Alliance Tournament!"

"Did you see the mech we assembled? That cannon was insane!"

"So many people are asking about our weapons!"

Their gaze shifted to a corner of the room, where a wheelchair had been quietly stationed amidst the clutter.

The man's frame was emaciated, his mechanical arm resting on the wheelchair's armrest stained with black machine oil. Several dark smudges marred his coveralls, and his complexion was unnaturally pale. Unable to walk, his right arm was a prosthetic, and he relied on a robotic assistant for mobility.

Merlin Occam is currently one of the team's maintenance technicians and the chief designer of the weapons used in this Star Domain Mech League.

However, due to his physical disability, he hadn't accompanied the team in battle for years nor made public appearances.

As the tournament continued to unfold on the virtual screen, Merlin's attention was captivated by the trophy, its light flowing like a liquid dream. Yet, after a moment, he diverted his gaze to review the mech's performance, meticulously noting which parts required attention and repair, his mind always at work.

"The mech is severely damaged; there's a lot of work to do when they return."

"They'll probably throw a victory party first, Merlin. You don't always have to think about work, you know. Pearl said you need rest," the apprentice remarked, tearing his eyes from the virtual screen to address the man enthusiastically. "Oh, 'Pearl said 'when we go to the Star Alliance Tournament, she will drag you out of this repair room. ' People keep discussing who designed our team's weapons..."

Suddenly, the apprentice noticed a spreading stain, his pupils constricting.

"Merlin! Your hand is bleeding!"

"Quick, to the medical unit — where's the doctor?"

The dark brown stain, gradually expanding on the fabric of his oil-stained work attire, was unmistakably conspicuous. When Merlin came to his senses and lifted his sleeve, he saw blood rapidly seeping from where his mechanical arm joined his body, the fresh blood starkly visible against his pale skin.

The base's doctor burst in, attempting to stem the flow with medical gauze, but the bleeding was relentless, persisting until alarms blared. Then the pain surged, a sharp sensation radiating throughout his body, his veins pronounced, skin taut, inducing a tremor that coursed through him.

As the acute pain overwhelmed him, Merlin's consciousness began to blur, the harsh white light of the room morphing into the luminescent hues of distant memories, the imposing silhouette of a mech materializing before him.

"The patient's genetic disease is deteriorating; he must be taken to the medical center without delay."

"How peculiar, his condition had been stable for years!"

Meanwhile, the virtual screen continued to display the mech event, with Pearl Robinson, the proprietor of K&D, speaking from a distance, "Yes! Our repair technician modified the energy cannon and was specially designed for this competition. His name is Merlin Occam, a brilliant technician and once an exceptional solo mech pilot—"

Merlin heard someone calling his name, listened to the cheers that seemed so close as if returning to the days when he was a carefree mech pilot, longing for the vast battlefields.

Subconsciously, he reached for the necklace he wore, the once-dull pendant, now touched by his blood, beginning to emit a faint shimmer.

As the voices faded away, and just before losing consciousness, Merlin's peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the half-assembled mech in the repair room. The black and red mech was only half complete, its core energy source emanating a faint glow. It hadn't embarked on its destined journey, just as he hadn't had the chance to touch the future.

In the year 1257 of the Star Calendar, Merlin Occam, the first solo mech Grand Slam winner of the Mech Alliance and K&D maintenance technician, passed away at the young age of 30 due to his worsening illness.

The deep, bone-deep pain gradually became numb, the metallic oil mixed with blood, a blurring scent, the glaring light fading like flowing water, the bizarre sights breaking apart layer by layer, reconstituting into a white room.

"Bring the medical record."

"Merlin? What are you spacing out about?"

"Who's calling me…?"