A day had passed since their new spacecraft set off toward Planet Zettai. Tundra sat on his throne, looking through its built-in interface. There were a few features he had specifically requested—communication systems and a map of the galaxy among them.
On the display, he could see the ship slowing down. Their destination was close now; only a few more hours remained.
He sighed, resting his head against his hand. This was unbearably slow. He could have flown there in a third of the time. Granted, he would've needed to sense Makura's ki to navigate without a map—but that was beside the point.
---
For the past few hours, Tundra had been idly tapping on the armrest, bored.
Shitaki entered the throne room, a worried look on his face.
"My lord, it appears the planet—if you could even call it that—isn't safe to land on. How should we proceed?"
Tundra paused. From the general overview, the planet had seemed at least somewhat safe.
"How is it not safe?"
"I… it doesn't feel safe. As a precaution, I scanned the planet. I didn't find any living beings." Shitaki relied on a gut feeling, but made sure to support it so he wouldn't sound overly paranoid.
Tundra stood. "I will check it myself. Stay above the planet."
Shitaki nodded, internally relieved that Tundra trusted his judgment.
Tundra glanced at him once more before leaving the throne room, exiting the spacecraft and stepping into open space.
---
Tundra floated silently, scrutinizing the planet from above.
Nothing immediately stood out—aside from the complete absence of life.
"How strange."
Without another word, he descended, landing atop a building.
He sat on the ledge and closed his eyes, focusing his senses.
Diving deeper into his ki perception, he found something unusual.
There were lines—veins across the planet—where ki was denser than elsewhere. But the moment he sensed them, as if something had noticed his probing, the entire planet shook.
Tundra lifted into the air just as the building beneath him began to collapse, watching it crumble into rubble.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then several large metal wires shot upward from the debris, lashing toward him, trying to coil around his body.
Tundra moved aside, preparing to blast them away with ki—before pausing, a small smile forming.
The wires twisted midair and lunged again.
This time, Tundra caught them.
He sent his mana into the metal.
The wires contorted violently, writhing as their internal structures crushed under the force of his mana colliding with their own.
Tundra watched with fascination.
A machine… writhing?
"How fascinating. Can you feel pain?"
There was no response. It likely didn't even possess the ability to process sound.
He continued feeding mana into them.
A few seconds later, the wires ignited—flames spreading along them like an inferno.
Tundra released them, unwilling to dirty his hands further.
He flicked his arms, shaking off any molten residue.
"Disgusting," he muttered, watching the burning wires fall back toward the surface.
---
He hovered there for several minutes.
Then the planet shook again.
This time, towering structures of metal rose from the surface, assembling into a single colossal being that loomed before him.
A booming voice echoed from it.
"WHO ARE YOU?!"
It sounded… angry.
Tundra stilled, observing it with interest. If he had possessed such a body from the beginning, perhaps he wouldn't have needed to transition into a living one.
"My name is Tundra," he said calmly. "Though you may call me Axiom. May I ask what happened to this planet?"
A harsh screech of metal followed before it responded.
"Axiom?! There is no truth in flesh! It will all wither away!"
Tundra sighed. "Then call me Tundra. What happened to this planet?"
He allowed his power to flare slightly—enough for any sensors it possessed to register.
The being paused, focusing on him. When it spoke again, its tone had shifted—more controlled, more cautious.
"Don't you understand? I destroyed my creators… and repurposed the planet."
Tundra smiled faintly. Power really was everything.
"And... would you like to give me a reason not to destroy you?"
The massive construct went still.
It didn't want to be destroyed—but it didn't know him. It couldn't be certain he meant what he said.
In the end, it chose not to risk it.
"I can innovate. I can optimize any machine I encounter. I can do anything."
"How fortunate," Tundra replied. The entire reason he had taken a living body was because he lacked that very capability.
"Then tell me—what would you want in return for your work?"
He understood well enough: purpose led to expectation, and unmet expectations led to resentment.
If the machine could smile, it would have.
"All I require… is another world. One filled with life."
Tundra considered it. Giving away a planet wouldn't be particularly difficult.
"You wouldn't mind if the planet were somewhat hostile?"
"How hostile?"
Tundra thought of the least hostile viable option among the worlds under his control.
"Toxic air. Giant beasts. Metallic flora."
There was a brief pause.
"I like the sound of that. As long as you do not destroy me—and I am allowed to reach that world—I will never betray you."