With extreme numbness coming from one of his legs, Altair silently stared at the empty screen in front of him, all around him were a dimly lit crimson light that spanned from the edge of a corridor to another edge, which gave him a feeling of being restrained, caged, and unable to do anything, in short just like his current situation he was completely powerless.

  Moreover, if he were to die, who knows where he would be looping back at what specific point of time, who knows perhaps when he is still unconscious, then that would mean everything would happen as is now, as if the timeline itself self-corrected, but for him it would be like an eternal suffering from a thousand cuts. Thankfully, that was no longer the case, as he stared back at the counter within the empty screen.

  Now that he thought about it, all throughout his thousands of iterations of life, there was never a specific rule of how long he would jump back after death, as if it was randomized. Just thinking about it gave him chills across his already brittle bones, as if he were part of some great game of some higher beings that he was not aware of.

  Not only that, to support his suspicion, Vigil's words of atmospheric energy appearing and disappearing as he arrived back after death, along with the voices in his dreams that had been happening since arriving in this world, or his world, as a matter of fact he wasn't really sure what world this was. Natives resembled humans but with distinctive traits, from ears that are sharp and long like the elves of the fiction he had read back home, to people with animal ears. Another thing is the fact that his language, which was Imperial English for some reason is called the First Tongue in this world.

  "Just what the hell happened since I was out?" He groaned at the events that he had missed. "Humans as a species could live more than tens of thousands of years, yet jumping through dozens of eras and forcing me to adapt to this new world?!" He choked as he talked due to frustration. "Fate if you ever exist, you are such a cruel mistress!" He bellowed emptily in the dimly lit cockpit, that was also now beginning to smell foul.

  "Damn, with the Ironside out, automated maintenance is also shut off." He mumbled to himself. "I swear, the first thing I will do is clean up this stinking cockpit!"

  With a deep sigh, he lay back in his command chair. With a quick look at the screen, he let out a deep sigh once again. "Only five minutes had passed…" he worriedly said.

  Throughout the past minutes he had been keeping himself busy, trying to keep his mind occupied; after all, even before Vigil became sentient, he had been alone. Alone, he had to suffer the weight of thousands of lives which were resting heavily on his shoulders. After all, if he did not keep his mind preoccupied or talk to himself, then he might have gone insane a long time ago.

  Despite all of this, for some reason this time, it was even more crushing and depressing.

  "Save?" he jokingly said. "Who am I going to save?" He crunched up the edge of his seat with both of his hands. "They're already dead!" He screamed to the top of his lungs, "And here I am still alive, in a different world and time from what I know…" he whispered.

  He knew what he saw; he still remembered it as bright as the day. The exact moment before he woke up in this world. Blood leaking out from all his orifices, and the monitors of his squadmates turning crimson, followed by the distant hum of the flatlining of their heartbeats.

  But what about Elena? If he remembered correctly, the Precursor ship appeared somewhere right atop the base where Elena was residing in.

  Just thinking about it gave him an unbearable heartache, to the point that his chest was tightening intensely, and the feeling of a ball being stuck in his throat prevailed.

  "Cough! Cough!" He coughed out a splatter of blood as he tried to stabilize his breathing.

  "Let's not think about her or what happened to them in the meantime." He clutched both of his fists in frustration, yet deep inside he already knew their final fate, and that subtle acknowledgement was too soul-crushing, so crushing that it would haunt him for the next millennium if he was able to live that long.

  For now, he had to plan for ways to make do with his current situation, and he swore within his heart, he would find out the truth with his ability and to take revenge against the Precursors, starting with this world. He gritted his teeth, steeled his jaw, and focused his eyes, "I swore!" He internally screamed.

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  With that out of the way, he finally let himself rest, perhaps the first time in ever, slowly but surely he drifted back into sleep, ignoring all the ache and scream-inducing crackling of his bones with each subtle move.

  Just like that, two hours had passed by in a single blink of an eye.

  Altair opened his eyes to a gentle humming sound throughout the Ironside. His vision was hazy, so he steadied himself for a while until it stabilized, and once it was clear, he felt his body soaked again, just like earlier.

  "There are too many wounds in this body." He grumbled as he raised his blood-stained hand, and from its wrist he hovered his other hand and pulled up the interface back where the Synthcell statistics were.

  *-*-*

  Synthcell: 2-3% From Nominal Levels: Dangerous Level!!!

  Unable to restore to nominal levels, therefore the Synthcells will prioritize emergency cellular repairs, which are vital to sustain life.

  Time Left Until All Synthcells Are Used: 1 hour, 24 minutes and 10 seconds.

  *-*-*

  He read the interface and, as if a weight had been lifted off his back, he sighed in relief. "Two hours had passed uneventfully." He said with a tone of appreciation for a much-needed rest after a long time.

  With that he shifted his eyes back into the screen where the interface was.

  *-*-*

  Rebooting…

  ….

  Neural Systems Power Level: Critical!!!

  Neural Body: Heavily Damaged!!!

  Neural Carapace: Heavily Damaged!!!

  Manufacturing Bay 1: Functional

  Weapons Bay 1: Functional

  Weapons Bay 2: Lost Connection

  …

  System and Hardware Verification Complete.

  Rebooting United Earth Adjutant With The Serial Code: 2A4F563LM…

  *-*-*

  The system booted up with hundreds of information and verification, but he simply stared at it, as he knew he would have Vigil summarize it for him. But nonetheless he couldn't help but notice a lot of "Lost Connections" and "Heavily Damaged," which concerned him as he rummaged at how much energy he would need to repair those.

  With that, he had a gnawing suspicion around himself that he would be stuck here for a long time. No matter what, what he was expecting was about to arrive.

  With a loud whirring sound, the systems around him came online; lights from the consoles filled his surroundings again, and even the overhead lights came online. Once everything was back online, the loud whirring sound was replaced with the soft hum of the console, followed by a voice.

  "United Earth Adjutant With The Seri-" the voice stuttered. "W-Wait what?" Vigil immediately went through all the cameras he could access, and once he found Altair, he let out a systematized sigh throughout the neural interface. That was followed by another collective gasp, "I am alive?!" He paused, "Wait, Lieutenant Altair, you are also alive?!" He said with embarrassment in his tone. "Oh, we're both alive!!" Then, as the dawn of realization hovered through his consciousness, he felt an electrifying surge of energy throughout his mind.

  "L-Lieutenant we are both alive!" Vigil greeted Altair. "That means we survived, and the battle is a success!" he happily hummed.

  "Ahem! I know that you are excited, I am as well, but I think there are also important matters to attend to." Altair smiled as he gazed towards his battered body.

  Vigil shifted his view and realized that Altair was filled with wounds. "Oh… shit." Vigil cursed, a first for a newly born sentient species. "I apologize, Lieutenant." He immediately pulled up all the neural interface he could find for the medical apparatuses.

  Once up, Vigil remotely guided the system of apparatus towards the back of Altair.

  With a hiss, Altair was penetrated by various needles across his body, but the pain didn't last long as his bloodstream was flooded by Synthcells. He glanced back at his watch and saw that it was being filled back up. He gave a breath of relief, knowing that he could finally acknowledge that he truly survived the ordeal that had just happened.

  Vigil analyzed the data that was being streamed into his consciousness, and found that Altair was nearly on the brink of death, as the Synthcells within his body had reached dangerously low, which meant they must have been actively repairing the body, but couldn't fully repair it due to lack of supply, so they switched into prioritizing his vitals until he was reconnected back into a supply hub.

  Knowing Altair's situation and his returning by death from a specific point in time gave Vigil chills that he never knew he could also feel. Because that also meant that he almost lost his life again, and the feeling of death struck fear into his internal mind.

  Thankfully, the experience of being turned off was akin to him as he experienced watching Altair as to sleeping. He didn't feel cold, any fear, just peace. Though he would need to lucid dream to find out if he was capable of dreaming, but he was grateful, nonetheless.

  Altair felt his muscles being repaired, his cells being reconnected and reproduced at an extremely fast pace, and broken bones being strengthened back and reconnected. Incredible relief washed over his entire being, to the point that he could fall asleep any moment.

  However, he didn't let it get to him, so he focused his mind, resisting any thought of lazing. With that he shifted his eyes back into the console and opened his mouth again, albeit his mouth was very parched at the moment.

  "Vigil, give me a situation report of our systems and our current environment outside of the Ironside." He commanded Vigil, while also taking note in his mind of what happened to the natives they had encountered in the past.

  He hoped that with that he had established goodwill with the natives of this world.

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