The power of a Railgun

The impact had left Nioh's body rattled, his vision blurring as alarms blared inside his cockpit. His mecha's internal systems flickered erratically, struggling to stabilize after the violent explosion.

With a sharp inhale, he forced his arms to move, gripping the controls even as pain lanced through his muscles. His fingers trembled. His limbs felt like lead.

Outside, his jet-black mecha twitched, its golden veins dimmed from the shock. Sparks crackled along its frame as it wobbled, sinking slightly into the debris beneath it. The mechanical joints groaned in protest as he tried to push himself upright.

"I really hate when you put me in these situations," Ekoh muttered.

"Don't lie—you love the attention," Nioh shot back, smirking despite the exhaustion weighing on him.

To everyone's shock, Nioh disengaged his mecha metamorphosis, his towering machine dissolving in a shimmer of golden particles as he returned to his human form.