Fated to Die to the Player, I’ll Live Freely with My SSS-Class Ship!

Planet A1-01 is essentially the first planet in orbit and the one closest to their central blue giant star.

Of course, that's only true at present.

In the past, there were over a dozen planets positioned ahead of it, orbiting much closer to their blazing mother star. But over countless years, the star began expanding—its core gradually bloating due to the relentless overconsumption of fuel—until, eventually, it engulfed the innermost planets in its fiery maw.

This devastating process forced the people living on those planets to evacuate, abandoning their ancestral homes and migrating further out to safer territory. As a result, A1-01 is now the most densely populated planet with these displaced souls—practically a refugee planet at this point.

Why am I talking about all this?

Well...

"You lot! Don't stop walking! We still got a long way to go!"

An irate voice bellowed from somewhere far behind us, each syllable slicing through the air and into our skulls. If not for the cuffs clamped tightly around my wrists, and wearing practically nothing but a waist cloth, I would've covered my ears to dull the noise.

"Fucking slowpokes...!" the voice continued. "I'm still far from my quota! If I fail to meet my requirements, then y'all be punished...!"

"..."

As you might have guessed already, I'm currently on planet A1-01.

Shackled by both cuffs and ankle chains, I trudge along the cracked earth. Why? Infiltration, obviously.

Due to the planet's high influx of refugees from the scorched inner worlds, it once teetered on the brink of becoming a lawless wasteland—until the Voltherian Military decided to take control. And when they did, they came in hard.

Approximately 5% of their entire military personnel in the entire system are now permanently stationed on this one planet alone. That sheer presence transformed what was once near anarchy into a strict, militarized hellhole.

Human rights? They might as well be a forgotten myth in this forsaken zone.

Death lingers everywhere—on the sides of the roads, dangling from the trees, or rotting beneath the eaves of weather-beaten buildings. Getting shot just for making extended eye contact with a patrolling officer isn't an uncommon fate. It's terrifyingly arbitrary.

In this godforsaken place, the "safest" one can be is as a prisoner of war, shackled like the iron band chained to my right ankle.

"Hey, you!"

"...Huh?"

Suddenly, a voice barked right next to my ear.

I turned sharply, only to be met by the furious gaze of a portly Voltherian officer. The same one who had been barking orders at us from earlier.

"You're dragging your feet, you pink worm...! If you're not gonna use them properly, should I just hack those legs off?!"

"N-No, sir! I'll pick up the pace...! I'll move faster!!!"

I stammered, launching into a desperate shuffle that passed for running. I stumbled in a way that made me look pitiful—deliberately so—to earn some sympathy, even if only on the surface.

"Hmph! You should've been doing that from the start, you useless pest...!"

He spat a wad of something green onto the purple soil and turned back, stomping toward the rear line where he climbed back onto a rough four-wheeled vehicle that resembled a heavily modified jeep.

{...Shall I kill him?}

An icy voice surged into my ears, a private transmission only I could hear. No surprise there—it was none other than our hot-blooded, short-tempered, red-haired vixen, Eva.

"No, are you insane? You'll compromise the entire op if you do that..." I muttered under my breath. "Just let him be. Only move if my life is in real danger."

I lifted my eyes and stared forward—across the fractured violet earth, the jagged ravines to our right, and the treacherously steep cliffs to the left.

Somewhere up on those cliffs, cloaked beneath camouflage gear, Eva and a small unit of our best marksmen should be keeping watch. I couldn't see a trace of them.

When I say "Elites," I mean it strictly in terms of their long-range weapon handling. Let's not romanticize it—they're still pirates. They wouldn't have turned to piracy if they were skilled enough in things like stealth, intel gathering, or silent takedowns.

{Still… You're five hours away from the Bastion. Can you really make it at this pace without collapsing?} Eva's voice came again, laced with concern.

"...I should be fine."

I didn't volunteer for this role because I'm a brilliant actor, mind you. It was more of a reluctant outcome born through a process of elimination.

None of the pirates were viable options—they lacked the subtlety for infiltration and would've blown the mission wide open within minutes.

Eva and Nyssra might've passed, sure. But they're both women—and not just any women. They're stunning, especially Nyssra, who'd easily attract attention among her own people.

And with creeps like these Voltherian bastards running the show, it wouldn't take much imagination to guess what horrors could befall them. Sexual harassment would probably be just the beginning.

So, that left me as the most viable candidate. A man with decent endurance, acting chops passable enough to play a prisoner, and no glaring physical traits that'd raise suspicion.

All things considered, this was the lowest-risk path.

Still, that didn't make the journey any easier.

The terrain here was brutal—uneven and bone-dry, riddled with fissures and heat cracks.

I was wearing a prototype powered suit over my body. It was thin—designed to mimic the contours and look of human skin—and practically invisible to the untrained eye.

However, that same thinness came at a cost.

Its power amplification was minimal. Roughly 1.5 times standard strength—far from the tenfold or even hundredfold boost granted by conventional, bulkier combat suits.

The only real advantage of this suit is that it's practically indistinguishable to the naked eye. That, and the fact it can be worn beneath another powered suit, enabling a synergistic amplification of abilities.

It's also versatile—perfect for situations like this, where enhanced strength is needed without drawing unnecessary attention.

I kept marching, falling in line behind the rest of the other so-called "refugees," all of us heading down the highway in quiet, miserable submission.

Our destination loomed ahead—one of the largest correctional facilities in all of A1-01.

More importantly, it was also the place where the Empress—Nyssra's mother—was secretly being held captive. The place was known only as the "Bastion."

My objective? Infiltrate the Bastion and attempt to rescue Nyssra's mother from within.

Eva and her sniper team were assigned to support—covering my movements, handling navigation, and prepared to provide covering fire if or when necessary.

As for Nyssra and the Void Dragon, they remained in standby mode aboard our cloaked ship, silently drifting above the stratosphere of the planet, concealed from all scanners.

The remainder of our fleet had taken hidden positions around the planet, also under stealth, monitoring orbital traffic and recording entries into the planet's atmosphere.

You could say this entire prison rescue operation was a test run—a field assessment to determine whether or not our ragtag team could function like an actual unit.

Hours passed.

Finally, just when it felt like my legs would give out from exhaustion, our destination came into view.

Tucked between jagged, hostile mountain ranges stood a fortress of steel and iron.

High-powered spotlights roved erratically across the terrain in chaotic patterns, ensuring there was no simple blind spot to exploit.

The walls were monstrously tall, smooth and steep, fitted with rotating autocannons designed to shoot down any poor soul thinking of scaling or breaching them.

The ground beneath our feet wasn't soil, but solid reinforced alloy—completely killing any chance of tunneling our way through.

And even if you managed to smuggle in a drill strong enough to penetrate metal, AI-driven patrol bots combed the area every sixty seconds, leaving virtually no margin for stealth-based mischief.

By the time we arrived, the sun was beginning to set.

It was, oddly enough, perfect timing.

As soon as we learned the layout of the facility, the operation could begin—under the camouflage of nightfall.

*THUD!*

"Move it!!!"

But as I stood still for a moment too long, a heavy boot slammed into my back, hurling me forward into a clumsy roll.

Pain exploded across my spine, and I nearly cursed out loud.

The urge to retaliate flared, but I forced myself to hold back.

It wasn't anything new.

Compared to Eva's regular punches, this was just another bruise. All I had to do was be patient. The time for revenge would come—eventually.

Blood trickled from my nose where my face had slammed into the metal ground. I wiped it away and forced myself to my feet. I didn't forget to tag the bastard who kicked me with a Stealth Nanobot, either. I won't let him get away...

As we moved closer to the structure, the sheer size of the walls became staggering.

Each wall towered at an intimidating 50 meters in height, dotted with fortified guard posts. The gate up ahead was thick and solid, reinforced with countless layers of steel—not something you could just push open casually.

Around the base of the walls, a moat had been constructed. But instead of water, it was filled with an abyssal void—just endless darkness that descended too deep to guess its bottom.

"OPEN THE GATES!" the fat officer shouted from behind.

A moment later, mechanical groans and clanking gears echoed in the air as the heavy gates slowly pulled inward, revealing the Bastion's inner sanctum.

"...!"

I couldn't help the sudden tightness in my chest as the gate parted.

The interior wasn't some bland courtyard. It was a warzone. Pillboxes were scattered across the grounds, interspersed with towering cannons, laser tripwires, and motion-detecting traps.

Thankfully, around half of those were automated, giving us a small sliver of a chance.

We had a top-tier hacker on our side, after all.

As I stepped past the threshold and walked further into the compound, I made sure to disperse my Stealth Nanobots across the area for surveillance.

They were too small to trigger any conventional scanners, which meant no risk of exposure. Unless the enemy was using a similar grade of tech, they'd never realize they were being watched.

We moved ahead, deeper into the compound, gradually approaching the ominous central spires that skewered the sky itself—piercing even the surrounding mountains, their tips hidden by low, dark storm clouds.

"Stop! It's this way!"

Right as we reached the midpoint, the formation shifted. We turned sharply to the right.

At the far edge of the compound, hugging the inner wall, stood a narrow staircase spiraling downward into the earth. A tunnel. An entrance to the underground sector.

That only meant one thing.

{Arthur...}

Eva's voice came through our comms again, quiet and tense.

If I descended down there, she and her squad wouldn't be able to provide support anymore. I'd be on my own.

I weighed my options carefully, took a long, measured breath, and muttered under my breath.

"Well… In the worst case scenario, I'll kill this bastard and proceed with the mission myself. Standby for now until I give further instructions."