HaPPi’s voice rang out cheerfully, cutting through my growing anxiety. "You’re our Master now! You can give us commands, and we’ll help you gather resources!"

  

  But MeLLo interrupted, flatly stating, "Resources won’t save you if you don’t comprehend the danger here."

  Fear pooled in my stomach as i forgot how dangerous is 'Into ManSpace' universe for people who don't know what place they put their foot on, or what they do. The idea of competition ignited a flicker of adrenaline in within myself.

  

  It will be fine if i can harness this chaos. "Alright, HaPPi, tell me what I need to do. How do I gather … Resource?"I asked.

  

  MeLLo interjected with a monotonous tone."First, you need to craft basic tools or we can find a break one and fix it. Follow our instructions and fortify your position."

  My mind's in race. This is my chance to reclaim some control over his life, albeit a nonsense another world.

  

  "Let’s get started."

  There's so many tools here, especially in a planet labelled as JunkYard planet. Metal scraps, used tools, even space ship could be here.

  Step by stepped, my boots crunching over a patchwork of rusted plating and dust. The sky was a dull orange haze, dimming the light from a bloated red sun. The JunkYard planet horizon stretched out before me like a sea of forgotten ambition.

  

  "HaPPi,"I said, adjusting to the artificial gravity,

  

  "start a sweep for usable materials. Prioritize sensor components, power cells, and anything resembling intact data cores."

  

  "Scanning now, Master!", HaPPi chirped, initiating a soft

  hum. A small drone detached from the ship and hovered out, its light flickering as it mapped the terrain.

  

  "While MeLLo maps the local radius, you should begin with tool recovery. A plasma cutter, a spanner set, and a diagnostic scanner are your priorities. We marked some probable locations near the ridge."

  

  “Affirmative".

  The JunkYard wasn’t chaotic, it was ordered decay. I also found a half-buried tool chest beside the husk of a cargo hauler, its serial plates still visible. It will be useful. With effort, i tried unlatched it and i can't helped it but grinning at the prize. broken multi-spanner and an almost intact cutting torch.

  

  MeLLo pinged. "Torch needs a new fuel cell. The spanner’s internal motor is fused, but manual function is acceptable."

  

  HaPPi returned with a cheerful tone. "There’s a service shed 110 meters southwest with structural integrity above 60%. We might find what you need!"

  We moved as a team... with me as the captain. HaPPi, as the overeager assistant. MeLLo, my grim advisor. Together, we could cracked open containers, disassembled broken bots, and created a small workspace to build every needs to survive.

  By nightfall, the makeshift scanner was functional... a crude, tripod-mounted sensor array patched from an old survey drone, with software assisted by HaPPi's onboard logic.

  Every drop of sweat has passed, as i sitting down beside a stack of sorted alloys. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. A protocol forming: Scan. Scavenge. Stabilize.

  

  MeLLo's voice came over the internal mic. "You’ve achieved Phase One: Technical Assessment."

  

  I nodded slowly. "Didn't we find an abandoned building in the scan before?"

  

  "Correct," HaPPi confirmed. "Abandoned logistics station. Scans indicate sealed interior chambers. Possible data nodes. Possible power source."

  I began to stood up, i could finally feel a spark of purpose. Not a hero. Not a warrior. Just a man trying to make sense of the mess, his own and the universe's.

  

  "Let’s explore,".

  Wasting no time, we began to get on the move.

  I began checking my patched-up tool belt-spanner, torch, portable scanner, and a crowbar that had once been a panel support rod. MeLLo guided the path ahead through the headset, while HaPPi floated beside me, projecting a soft blue light from its undercarriage.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The abandoned logistics station loomed like a collapsed lung, partially sunken into the dust. The structure was mostly intact, its composite walls having resisted corrosion better than the exposed hauler wrecks outside. A faded logo...

  ...was still quite legible on the side.

  

  "The outer airlock is still intact," MeLLo announced. "No atmosphere. No power. Manual override required."

  I tried reached into the panel and pried open the emergency lever casing. Quite difficult to do itwith raw effort until the lock hissed, venting ancient air into the dry wind. The doors parted just wide enough to squeeze through.

  Inside was darkness... thick and uninviting.

  

  "HaPPi, lights.." i asked.

  

  HaPPi cast its beam wider. "Low-power LEDs on emergency tracks! A little dim, but functional if we patch auxiliary!"

  They navigated through the first corridor. Crates, old datapads, and a collapsed ceiling. The air was stale, barely breathable with a rebreather mask. Desmond moved carefully, marking stable ground with chalk from a utility drawer.

  In the central chamber, they found what they hadn’t dared hope for.

  

  "HaPPi… is that a ship?"

  Desmond whispered, stepping into a massive maintenance bay.

  Resting like a sleeping beast was a small spacecraft... sleek, triangular, there's also a part on the front similar to that of drill, and it matte-gray with dust layering the hull. It looked unmarked by battle, but clearly unfinished or never launched.

  

  "I feel like, i've seen this ship before...", i muttered

  

  MeLLo scanned quickly. "Model unknown. Configuration suggests short-range exploration or stealth courier. No active power source. Integrity… 78%."

  I began to circled it. The more i see it, the more i tried to refuse of what i saw of this thing. There is no way this ship exist in ManSpace.

  

  "Can it fly?"

  

  "With repairs. Critical systems need assessment: propulsion, core reactor, life support," MeLLo said.

  

  "You’ll need a portable interface to begin diagnostics."

  If it really is the ship i know, this could not change what is already different in my life. This could change the whole balance of ManSpace.

  So we decide to spent hours combining the components, pulling wiring, scavenging intact consoles, and replacing connectors. I worked with deliberate patience, guided by MeLLo’s dry logic and HaPPi’s chirpy encouragement.

  By evening, we had patched a temporary link between the spacecraft and MeLLo's logic core.

  Static hummed. A flicker of light rippled through the ship’s side console.

  

  "MeLLo?" I asked quietly.

  

  "She's waking up," HaPPi replied.

  I stepped back, not from fear. But, from the realization that. From this point, if the ship could run the same as the one i know. Danger may increase than before.

  

  "Damn Vanta". I muttered.

  I didn’t sleep much that night... not from discomfort, but from the hum. Not the kind you hear. The kind you feel in your bones when something massive stirs beneath your feet. Like the quiet pulse of a storm that hasn’t quite broken yet.

  The ship, sat in the middle of the hangar like a sleeping predator. Triangular. Sharp nosed. Sleek in design but brutal in intent. I have spent enough time in ManSpace to recognize architecture built for speed and collision... but this? This was something else entirely.

  

  HaPPi floated by the nose, projecting readouts. "Energy pathways linked! Fuel bypass connected! Primary ignition ready, Master!"

  

  MeLLo’s voice piped in next. "Caution: Powering systems may trigger dormant security protocols. Recommend minimal initial load."

  

  "Let’s do it slow then," I said, my voice a dry croak.

  "Bring up core diagnostics. No engines. Just internal power."

  I pressed the activation pad on the ship’s outer panel. The moment my finger touched it, I felt it.. like the whole structure exhaled.

  Inside, lights flickered to life... cool, blue strips outlining the deck, a central console, a narrow ladder leading down to the cargo hold. A single bed folded neatly into the side paneling. Compact, efficient. Lived-in, almost.

  

  "Systems booted," MeLLo confirmed.

  "Power stable. Low-draw mode active."

  I stepped inside.

  The walls vibrated faintly under my boots. Not from damage, but from readiness.

  Then I saw it... centered at the nose of the ship, reinforced with dense alloy plating and hydraulic lines, it wasn’t a cannon. It was a drill. No, not even that.

  

  "Rammer," i whispered.

  The interface confirmed it with a line of glowing blue light. This ship wasn’t made to dogfight. It was made to go through things.

  

  "HaPPi," I asked, swallowing,

  "What’s the purpose of this nose module? Structural scans imply reinforced boring capability, likely for asteroid mining or emergency tunneling."

  

  MeLLo cut in, tone sharp. "Incorrect. That hull plating is military-grade. Not standard. And no mining ship runs with an energy shield that strong."

  I sat at the control deck, fingers tracing the edges of a dusty console. It responded with surprising smoothness, sliding open to reveal system subscreens... navigation, power control, heat sinks. But one caught my eye...

  The air in the cabin seemed to compress. This was a warship. Small, yes. But a ramming-class vessel. One designed to punch through ship hulls, reinforced bunkers... mountains, even. I know this ship...

  And here it was. In a junkyard. With my name now coded into its command registry.

  

  I leaned back in the pilot’s seat, letting it all sink in. "You two… you don’t even know what this thing is, do you?"

  

  "Negative," MeLLo replied.

  "There are no records of this class in my starship schema. It appears custom. Possibly experimental."

  

  HaPPi buzzed brightly. "But she’s yours now, Master!"

  

  "Mine," I repeated, almost laughing.

  "I was supposed to be playing a game. Now I’m sitting inside something that could level a city block."

  I tapped the side panel, watching as the internal energy shield flickered to life... a transparent shimmer, then full opacity. Seamless. There is no player with their ships

  in ManSpace had that kind of system.

  It was beautiful. Terrifying. Alive.

  

  "MeLLo, power up the auxiliary grid. I want climate control and system redundancy by morning."

  

  "Acknowledged."

  I look at the driller outside the pilot room. Not a weapon in the traditional sense... but raw, directed force. It was a statement.

  

  "You are not meant to run. You are meant to break through."

  maybe that’s what I needed. Not to escape whatever this universe had thrown at me... but to face it head-on. With this ship under my command… I could.

  

  "Marcus, you're crazy xeno-birch, How many Vanta in your vein when you coded this thing?" I muttered.