In the blink of an eye, another semester was over.
Before the new term began, the system sent out the course selection notice.This time, we could finally choose elective subjects, which meant I could actually pick something I was interested in.
Without hesitation, I locked my sights on the mecha courses.Still, before submitting, I decided to ask Ethan for advice.
He was sitting on the dorm sofa, watching a projection of some tactical simulation.The moment I opened the door, he said without looking up, "Course selection time?"
"Yeah." I sat across from him. "I'm planning to take all the mecha-related classes. You took a few last semester, right? Any recommendations?"
Ethan finally looked up and smiled. "You sure you want to take my word for it?"
"Of course. You're the senior here."
"All right." He started counting on his fingers. "You have to take Basic Mecha Maintenance. It's boring, but useful. Also Core Energy Systems—that one will help if you ever plan to modify your mech."
I nodded, ticking the boxes on the projection screen. "What else?"
"Maybe Neural Link Control. The instructor's pretty good." He paused for a moment, and his expression turned a little strange. "But there's one course you absolutely shouldn't take."
I looked up. "Which one?"
He chuckled. "The Glorious Era and the Nightmare Academy."
I blinked. "That sounds pretty epic."
"Epic?" He sighed. "You'll know what kind of nightmare it is once you attend. The whole class is just 3D projections of old mecha designs from decades ago—colors, armor shapes, the so-called 'aesthetics of curve.' The instructor even gives serious lectures on 'color psychology' and 'armor-line beauty.'"
I couldn't help laughing. "Doesn't sound that bad to me."
"Yeah, right." He leaned back lazily. "Those designs were outdated ten years ago. Who cares about mecha color schemes anymore? What matters now is reaction speed, energy conversion, neural feedback. That course is a complete waste of time."
I tilted my head thoughtfully. "Then why's it still offered?"
"Tradition, I guess." Ethan shrugged. "Back in the Nightmare Academy days, it was one of the hottest classes—students actually competed over whose mech looked better. Nowadays…" He shook his head. "No one cares about that anymore."
I laughed and turned off the projection. "Got it. I'll go for the practical ones and ditch the pretty stuff."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Not bad. You're starting to sound like a real pilot."
"Of course." I stretched lazily. "Next semester, I'll make sure they see—mechas aren't just pretty. They bite too."
I eventually filled all four course slots.
Basic Mecha Maintenance, Core Energy Systems, Neural Link Control,
and, finally, the so-called "hell course" Ethan warned me about, The Glorious Era and the Nightmare Academy.
The first three were what you'd expect: theories, technical manuals, and endless hands-on practice.
The last one? I chose it purely out of curiosity.
On the first day of class, I arrived early.
The moment I stepped into the room, I froze.
The classroom was empty.
Not a single person in sight.
Only a faint blue 3D projection hovered silently in the center, pulsing with light.
Just as I was about to leave, the projection brightened.
A figure slowly took form.
It was a woman dressed in an old-era military uniform.
The lines of the outfit were clean and sharp, the insignia on her shoulders long lost to history.
Her expression was calm yet resolute, like a veteran who had survived countless battlefields.
"Welcome to The Glorious Era and the Nightmare Academy," she said, her voice low and steady.
"I am Luna, mecha pilot of the Nightmare Academy's zeroth generation, and the champion of the very first Academy League. Later, I became a lecturer here."
Her presence alone made me sit up straight.
As I looked at the projection, a strange feeling of familiarity stirred in me.
But I was certain, I had never seen her before.
The class went exactly as Ethan described: lessons about mecha shapes, silhouettes, and color schemes.
Green stood for balance and life; red, for strength and willpower.
It sounded like an art history lecture, yet the way she spoke carried precision and purpose.
Each explanation of color felt less like design theory and more like a philosophy of combat.
I had expected this course to be boring, but as the lecture continued, I found myself drawn in.
She spoke not just of aesthetics, but of the spiritual link between pilot and machine.
It wasn't design, it was a way of thinking, a symbiosis between human and metal.
Before the class ended, she paused for a moment and said quietly,
"Color is not mere appearance. It influences the mind… and defines your existence."
The light faded.
The classroom fell silent again.
I stared at the empty podium, her final words echoing in my head.
Defines your existence.
That line wouldn't leave me.
Later that night, curiosity got the better of me.
I searched her up on the academy archive.
Luna, zeroth-generation mecha pilot of the Nightmare Academy, first champion of the Academy League.
After becoming a lecturer, she mentored students for over a decade and contributed to multiple champion mecha designs.
They called her the Moonlight Shield of the Academy.
But in the records, it also said this.
After the wormhole incident of 1038, her signal vanished near Planet 11.
Her name, Luna, means moon in Latin,
the same Luna from Roman mythology, goddess of the moon.
And me? I'm Aurora, the goddess of dawn.
Both names belong to the same pantheon, daughters of the sky and light.
For some reason, that realization left me quiet for a while.
Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe…
I really did have some strange connection with that brilliant woman who disappeared into the wormhole.
I returned to my workbench and began tinkering again.
That class had changed the way I thought about color.
I dug out old spare parts from the corner and started sketching a new armor layout.
This time, I wanted a heavier, more defensive frame, painted in green and red.
Green for life.
Red for resolve.
I spent the whole night adjusting ratios, angles, and joint tension.
By the time I tightened the final bolt, dawn had already arrived.
On the desk lay a new piece of armor, thick and sturdy as a turtle shell.
Too heavy for a single-pilot unit, but for a mecha engineer's experiment, it was perfect.
Satisfied, I took a few photos.
Logged onto the Mecha Enthusiasts Forum and uploaded the design.
I didn't think much about the title and simply wrote:
[New Color Prototype] Red & Green Defensive Structure
After clicking upload, I shut off the terminal and went to wash up.
What I didn't know then,
was that this little "turtle shell" would soon blow up the entire community.