"U… Universal class?" Zion stuttered, his heart skipping a beat.
There were eight different ranks for battleships based on their strength, and the Universal-class was at the very top.
The Echelon Sovereignty's main ship is on a similar level, he thought, eyes wide. And they are able to dominate the entire galaxy with it.
He'd been to the Sovereignty's flagship more than once. Even then, the memory made his stomach twist.
It's hard to even call that thing a ship, he thought, clenching his fist. It's basically an artificial planet with billions of workers living inside it.
As he thought about the Sovereignty, many unpleasant memories resurfaced in his mind. He forced himself to breathe, but the anger never really left.
With a ship of that level, he thought, clenching his fist. I could kill them all.
[Host. Don't celebrate so soon,] Uriel echoed through his mind. [As stated previously, this vessel is only a damaged lifeboat. Not the main battleship.]
Zion fell silent for a moment, his fist shaking.
"That's right…" he muttered, shaking his head wryly.
He took a deep breath and focused on the situation again. Almost every high-ranking ship had a lifeboat, even the one he'd served on.
But it's usually only triggered in cases of certain destruction…
"The main ship you were talking about," Zion slowly said. "What happened to it?"
Uriel didn't respond right away. When it finally spoke, its tone was slightly less rigid and cold than before.
[The main Seraphael vessel was destroyed long ago during a large-scale interstellar conflict… This vessel is all that remains.]
Zion's eyes widened. "Destroyed?" he asked in disbelief. "What kind of conflict could wipe out a Universal-class battleship?"
For a moment, only the faint hum of the ship around him filled the air.
[Apologies, Host. I am unable to answer that question,] Uriel said, its voice back to its mechanical tone.
"What?" he asked, confused. "Why?"
[You do not meet the required thresholds to access the information,] Uriel said. [All high-tier data is transmitted directly into the host's mind. Lower-rank hosts lack the mental capacity to process the volume safely. It is restricted for your own protection.]
"Can't you just share tiny bits with me then?" Zion asked, raising an eyebrow.
[That would be unwise,] Uriel responded. [Information without capability to act on it serves no purpose.]
Zion frowned, but this time, he didn't argue.
It's not wrong, he thought with a faint scoff. I'm barely even standing right now… what good would classified data do me anyway?
He understood full well that if someone figured out he knew slightly too much, he'd get killed in an instant.
A short moment of silence followed as Zion leaned against the metal table to think.
His thoughts, however, were quickly interrupted by the rumbling sound of his stomach.
"…Food," Zion muttered. "Is there any food on board?"
Uriel responded almost immediately.
[The amount of food on board is estimated to be roughly a month's worth.]
Zion pushed himself to his feet with a quiet sigh.
"Figures…" he mumbled, stretching.
As his stiff joints cracked faintly, his eyes locked onto the swirling hologram of the surrounding planets.
"How do I get off this planet anyway?" he asked. "Are there any smaller ships here that aren't damaged?"
[All smaller ships were exhausted,] Uriel said. [However, Host has access to low-level schematics for the creation of a functional ship.]
Zion let out a short breath, his expression unreadable.
"Easier said than done," he muttered. "I can fix engines, patch hulls, reattach powerlines… but I've never actually built a ship from scratch."
[Assistance will be provided as needed.]
Zion raised an eyebrow. "If you say so."
Then, his stomach growled again.
"Alright, can you guide me to rations first?" he asked, scratching his aching stomach.
[Sure thing, Host,] Uriel answered, projecting a small map inside his retina.
Zion lifted a hand and waved it in front of his face. The map stayed perfectly still, fixed in his vision no matter how he moved.
That feels strange, he thought, before slowly following the directions on the map.
Glancing through the massive control room, Zion suddenly had a bad feeling.
The control room's probably just a small part of the ship, he thought, narrowing his eyes. Chances are that it'll take me a while before I can eat something.
[Host is correct,] Uriel said in a tone Zion could've sworn sounded cheerful. [Estimated time of arrival: ten minutes.]
Zion let out a sigh of relief. That isn't that bad, he thought as he followed the map through the corridor.
As he walked, he couldn't help but think about the small ship he'd supposedly have to build. Even if Uriel would help him, he wanted to at least study it a little.
"Uriel, can you show me the easiest ship to make?"
Not even a second later, a schematic of a small ship popped up right beside the map.
Zion studied it for a moment, then exhaled. "That really is a small ship," he muttered.
He pulled his eyes away from the schematic for a moment and walked through a large metal door, entering a long corridor that seemed to go on forever.
"Alright… what about the parts?" he asked, staring back at the schematic.
[…Host,] Uriel said after a short pause. [Most of the high-level materials on board exceed your current handling capabilities. The lower-tier resources are usable, but several critical components are missing.]
Zion's jaw tightened as he stared at the schematic. "Doesn't that make everything useless then?"
No matter how hard he tried to survive, there was only a month's worth of food and no way to get off this dead planet.
He clenched his fists. He wasn't ready to die here, not while the people who ruined his life were still out there.
[Actually, scans picked up a resource pod a few miles away,] Uriel said. [It was left here around two thousand years ago by another civilization.]
The first map closed, another immediately replacing it. This one marked a red spot a few miles away from his current location, in what appeared to be the middle of a destroyed city.
"So I just have to walk out there and grab those before I start, huh?" The frown on his face disappeared as he started thinking.
Seems reasonable enough, he thought, his face unreadable.
[Host, about that…] Uriel started, letting a pause fall. [According to our scans, the surrounding region is infested with E-rank organisms called Deathcrawlers.]
Zion blinked, waiting for Uriel to tell him it was a joke.
But that never happened.
"…You're serious?"
[Affirmative.]
Zion let out a slow breath, clenching and unclenching his fist. "Then what can I do?"
[Progress,] Uriel responded simply. [The Seraph-X nanosuit may possess SSS-rank potential, but right now its actual strength is at the F-rank.]
[Advancement to E-rank should be achievable within seven solar rotations.]
"A week?"
Zion grimaced. It sounded short, but having one week less to build a ship could be a death sentence.
[Affirmative. Correction noted.]
[Updated: seven solar rotations → one week.]
Zion exhaled, digesting the information as he walked through the damaged corridor.
Let's eat something first, he thought, temporarily pushing his thoughts aside as he arrived at the storage room.
Turning around the corner, he came to a stop as he saw two massive doors with faintly glowing symbols on them.
What language is that? he wondered, seeing the symbols.
As he put a hand on the door, Uriel's voice echoed through his mind.
[Opening doors.]
The doors hissed open, releasing a wave of cold air that made him shiver. Once the doors fully slid open, he could see rows of metal shelves sitting on both sides of the room.
Most of them were empty—hell, some had already collapsed from age and decay. But a few sealed crates stood at the back of the room, covered in layers of dust.
Zion walked toward them and, to his surprise, managed to lift the lids off with one hand.
Raising an eyebrow, he carefully scanned his arms.
"…Was it always that light?" he muttered.
[Host's physical strength was doubled after bonding with the suit and achieving F-rank,] Uriel said.
"That explains a lot," he mumbled, before glancing at the disgusting brown bars inside the crate.