England's Greatest - Chapter 5: Fuel for Success

Humanity has conquered half the galaxy and the Age of Mechs reigns supreme!Ves Larkinson lacked the genetic aptitude to become a famed mech pilot. Fighting against his fate, he studied mech design in order to express his love for mechs as a builder instead of a soldier.When Ves graduated from college, he returned to a new but empty boutique. Left with a small, newly founded mech workshop that his father painstakingly built with a mountain of debt, Ves somehow needs to make ends meet with the bank breathing down his neck.In the midst of his despair, he found salvation from another legacy his father had left."Welcome to the Mech Designer System. Please design your new mech."--Join The Mech Touch's unofficial Discord server: https://discord.gg/APB5KCU

“One accidental signature, and now the legendary Shadow Queen is living in my house... wearing my T-shirts and refusing to leave! She claims to be cursed with laziness, but why did I just witness her destroy a monster with one finger? And why does she keep looking at me like I’m her next target? Someone help—I’m not ready for this kind of responsibility!”

You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.