Starborn Renegades: Anthem of the Flawed

Hayate's boots sank into the corrosive sludge bleeding from the port's ruins. Under the Sea of Paradox's inverted gravity, rust coagulated into floating spirals of blood-like droplets. He touched one, his Stardust Eye dissecting its molecular chains—hundreds of twitching "E-Ω" codes writhed inside.

"This rust…it's alive." His wrench hooked a metallic strand. The substance writhed, transforming ancestral patina into glowing Church contract text: "Voluntary Stardust vessels forfeit genetic sovereignty—"

Rin's blade severed the rust-web. Gravity inverted—Hayate's hair floated upward as iron-blood rain surged skyward. Three mechanized citizens emerged, their spines replaced by frozen eels, eye sockets pulsing violet with Vela's Lie-Fuel. Gill slits exhaled contract-coded bubbles instead of oxygen.

"Left flank." Rin's voice cut colder than seabreeze. Her crystalline arm speared the ground, cobalt pulses rippling through the corrosion. The "living rust" shrieked like infants, coalescing into miniature stelae engraved with Sakabane ancestors' faces—their mouths sprouted eel-tentacles.

Hayate dodged falling monoliths on inverted steel beams. "This how you treat clones too?" He let his wrench scrape her blade, Stardust sparks igniting gene-ink fumes. Flames birthed hundreds of Rins—some dissolving enemies, others stabbing their own hearts.

Rin's blade froze for 0.3 seconds. A shard grazed her cheek, branding it "777." She stabbed her shadow, the blade erupting through a mechanized citizen's back, ice-crusted clone codes spilling out. "Counterfeits." She crushed an eel-spine underfoot, mucus crystallizing into gene-chains. "I'm the curse that outlives forgeries."

Lie-Fuel sweetness poisoned the air. Eel-spines detonated, prismatic neurotoxin swirling in the gravity vortex. Hayate's cracked eye bled—precognition showed Rin's arm absorbing memory fragments: hundreds of Rins slaughtering clones, their skin sloughing to reveal throbbing paradox engines.

"Stop!" His wrench locked her wrist. Stardust Resonance shattered a forming memory-spear. Shards became wailing contract clauses: "Pillar Contract Clause 777." (Pillar Contract: A bio-algorithmic enslavement system where genetic chains become cages.)

Quantum entanglement flared in Rin's pupils. Cobalt umbilicals erupted from her scabbard, binding them back-to-back. "Let it choke," she severed an eel-tendril, "on its gluttony."

Gravity flipped. Hayate's wrench-channeled shockwave spiraled outward. Beneath them, rust wove an inverted Sakabane crest weeping ancestral memories—infant cries, snapping bones, the wet squelch of eel-spines burrowing into vertebrae. As the seventh wave charged, Rin's arm pulsed with blood-veined data streams, her skin revealing Ω-shaped Church sigils.

"See this." She tore off her crystal carapace, exposing the paradox engine. Its pipes coiled with shredded Paradox Corsair flags—woven from stolen Church eel-spines. "Every component here—" The engine's roar drowned the tidal crash, "—is a blade through fate's throat."

Hayate's vision drowned in crimson. Within the 23:59:59 countdown hallucination, Rin's core quantum-entangled with the Ark's coordinates—and buried in her genome, a subverted contract code matching his mother's burned suicide note.

Deep in the sea-fog, Vela's mechanical eye flickered with an unregistered wavelength.

Sulfur scorched Hayate's nostrils as his wrench jammed into a mechanized hound's steel jaw. Corrosive saliva dripped upward in the Sea of Paradox's inverted gravity, crystallizing into suspended metal rain. Three meters away, a tattered Paradox Corsair flag seeped cerulean blood, staining rust into the Sakabane genetic map.

"Don't let it reassemble!" Rin's scabbard lashed cobalt umbilicals at the banner, but boiling sulfur forced her back. The liquid congealed midair into hundreds of frozen eels, each spine etched with Church contract codes.

Hayate kicked free, spray canister snapping into his palm. As crimson paint slashed across the Church emblem, his forearm muscles spasmed—not fatigue, but memory erosion. The sensation of his mother guiding his hand faded with every stroke.

"Can't even keep family traditions," sneered a hologram from the flag shards. The First Sakabane floated in bioluminescent fluid, driving an eel-spine into his granddaughter's neck. Contract text pooled at their feet: "Voluntary provision of direct lineage as Stardust vessels…"

Rin's blade stabbed the hologram. Reality ruptured—live eels erupted from beneath, constricting her crystalline arm. "See?" She impaled her own shoulder, cobalt light geysering from the wound. "We're just upgraded containers."

Hayate's canister clattered. His mother's fingerprint warmth on the grip resurrected as sea-salt broth on his tongue—her final meal for him. In the hallucination, Church contract chips floated in the soup, each showing his younger self receiving eel implants.

"Nostalgia later!" Rin severed eels, hurling blood that solidified into gene-chains. Hayate grabbed the canister, his palm prints morphing into Church Omega sigils under dripping paint.

Stardust Eye overloaded:

3 seconds until sulfur reconstructs the First Sakabane's combat shell｜2.5 until Rin's corruption threshold｜1 until permanent loss of "mother's grip" memory—

He tackled Rin aside, hurling the canister into the flag's core. Paint-sulfur detonation spewed Sakabane memory fragments. Suspended in anti-gravity, they formed a family tree—every branch coiled with eels, the outermost twigs bearing holograms of infant Hayate and Rin.

"Pathetic." Hayate ripped his paint-stained collar, revealing the Paradox Corsair brand. "Our rebellion's just a lab report in Church archives."

Rin's arm devoured contract energy from sulfur streams. The First Sakabane's face bulged beneath her skin, lips mouthing her deepest fear: "Flaws belong in recycling." She reversed her grip, plunging the blade through her chest—and out came ice-blue gene-codes reeking of Vela's Lie-Fuel.

"Catch!" She slung the codes at Hayate. Contact with Stardust paint ignited the sulfur sea. Melting Church emblems reformed into the full Paradox Corsair standard—the flag woven from ancestral skin cells, every fold encoded with erased rebellions.

Hayate's palm burned. His mother's fingerprints dissolved, replaced by the First Sakabane's genetic signature. The broth's aroma fused with sulfur's reek, crystallizing into a single Stardust tear.

"Move." Rin's scabbard pointed skyward. The projected flag pierced the fog, revealing the Ark of the Flawed's silhouette—and within it, a pulsing mechanical structure syncing with Vela's unregistered wavelength.

Church artillery overload sirens wailed. Hayate gripped the alien-feeling canister, spraying a final emblem on clean ground: a decapitated eel chained to the Paradox flag.

As plasma fire obliterated the ruins behind them, he realized he'd forgotten the tune his mother hummed while cooking.