Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.-Chapter 725: Something isn’t right.

It seemed doable, theoretically. But practically, it would not be an easy feat to accomplish. Sunshine wondered if Cassius had encountered this in her last life. Had he also needed to level up quickly and fix the rifts?

Maybe it was the reason for the apocalypse ending in five years, and not one and a half, like she was hoping. She was moving too fast.

The fact that she had been the one doing the heavy lifting while Cassius just slept around and relaxed probably allowed him to have time to focus on leveling up. Meanwhile, she had been more focused on building Fortress four.

But she didn’t regret it. Nine’s voice cut through her thoughts.

"And even if she leveled up to Grandmaster level, she would need the council’s permission, right?" Nine asked, leaning his back against a stack of rusted power cells. He stepped back and crossed his arms, looking like a man who had spent way too much time reading fine print.

Vortan shook his head, "Not necessarily. The council does not dictate what jobs she takes."

"Good. So, what now?" Nine patted the top of Sunshine’s head like one would a younger sibling. Then he hugged her again. "Stop crying, we need more solutions and less tears."

She pulled out of the embrace, wiping tears from her cheek. Her eyes, usually kind, were practically sparking with a new kind of fire. "I’m going to die trying if I have to," she said, her voice steady. "I am not giving up. Not on this, and not on my people. I will find another way to make the council give me those grandmasters."

Nine let out a sharp whistle and grinned, his face lighting up. "Now that is the spirit! That’s the Sunshine I know. It’s time to start thinking outside the box_ or maybe just kick the box down the stairs and see what breaks."

Vortan, who had been brooding in the corner like he was auditioning for a role as a gargoyle, finally stepped forward. He looked at Sunshine with a mix of respect and genuine worry. "Look, if you’re serious, I can help. I can get you jobs_ contracts that’ll help you upgrade your level and your rank fast. But Sunshine, I’m not gonna lie to you. These jobs? They’re the kind people take when they’ve run out of options. They have high risks. Jobs that most repairmen reject."

"I’m ready, it is not like I have a lot of options" Sunshine said without a second of hesitation. She took a deep breath. "Thank you, Vortan. Really. I’ll take whatever you can find. But first... the Commander told me to prepare. I’m leaving for Pyraeth."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. Vortan and Nine exchanged a look_ a long, heavy gaze that communicated more than a textbook of warnings ever could. They knew exactly what Pyraeth was.

"The world on fire?" Nine asked, his voice losing its playful edge. "Why on my eight legs are you going there?"

"I’m going to have the prime core destroyed," Sunshine explained.

Vortan gave a slow, solemn nod. "It’s the best choice, even if it doesn’t seem worth it since the council has rejected your plea. That prime core is a walking time bomb. If it stays active, it’s just a matter of time before it takes your whole world to doom with it." He straightened his jacket. "I’ll go with you. I have been there before and I can guide you." Also, he wanted to keep an eye on her, just in case she was bullied on that strange planet.

Sunshine shook her head. "Don’t worry Vortan I’m going with Commander Melvin."

Vortan’s head moved suspiciously, his brow furrowing until it looked like a plowed field. "Melvin? The Commander of the Council is going along? Just the two of you?"

"Yeah," Nine chimed in, scratching the back of his neck. "That’s... weird. I mean, usually, that guy doesn’t go to the bathroom without a fourteen-robot security detail. Why would he go to a literal hellhole alone with a repairman?"

"Maybe he has business there too?" Sunshine suggested, though even she sounded a bit unsure.

Vortan scoffed, a bitter sound that echoed off the metal walls. "Prime core business, more like. Listen to me, Sunshine." He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low growl. "There are a lot of secrets in this organization. Secrets buried under layers of paperwork and ’classified’ stamps. I for one do not trust the higher-ups. Their intentions are never clear."

Sunshine chewed her lip, nodding slowly. "I’ll keep my eyes open. I promise."

As they began walking toward the Gear Vault Division, Nine tried to shake off the heavy atmosphere. He nudged Sunshine with his elbow. "Hey, speaking of things buried under paperwork, what’s the word on our grandfather’s vault? You know I’m still waiting on my share. I’m a Raine, after all. It’s practically my birthright to be rich and lazy."

Sunshine gave a weak laugh. "The vault managers are taking their time with it. I haven’t heard a single word from them since I filed the paperwork. It’s like I’m yelling into a vacuum."

Vortan suddenly paused mid-step, nearly causing Nine to trip over him. "Wait. That’s not possible. Did you actually apply for the vault to be passed on to you? Officially?"

"Yes," Sunshine said, looking confused. "But each time I go down to the Vault Department, they give me the runaround. They tell me the manager handling my account isn’t around. Or he’s on lunch. Or he’s on a very long vacation in a place with no phone service."

Vortan’s face went pale, then a very angry shade of red. He sensed it immediately_ something was very, very off. "Who is it? Who’s handling your file?"

"His name is Grit Byers," she said.

Vortan gritted his teeth, his jaw muscles jumping. "Byers. Of course. That oily little... okay. Don’t worry about it right now. You focus on Pyraeth. I’m going to look into Mr. Byers and see exactly why he’s so hard to find."

"You should," Nine added, sniffing the air dramatically. "Because even I can smell something fishy, and I usually have a very high tolerance for bad smells."

They finally arrived at the Gear Vault Division. It was a massive, sterile place filled with humming machinery and rows upon rows of lockers. They bypassed the shiny, high-end sections meant for the grand masters until they reached the Field Kit section. The air here smelled like rubber and industrial cleaner.

Vortan walked up to a service terminal. A small, boxy robot rolled forward on squeaky wheels. "Requesting a specialized kit for a mission to Pyraeth," Vortan barked. "Repairman: Sunshine Quinn."

The robot’s red sensor eye swept over Sunshine, clicking and whirring as it took in her measurements. It made a disappointed "boop" sound_ presumably because she was so small_ and disappeared into the dark warehouse behind it. A moment later, it returned, carrying a light metallic box.