The Unexpected Urge: Confessions of a Battle Mech Pilot

You know, Anonymous, people often ask me what drives a person to become a battle mech pilot. Is it the thrill of combat? The rush of adrenaline? For me, it’s always been about the competition - and no one pushed me harder than my rival, Squid. He was tall, thin, and bald, with an air of mystery that commanded respect. Our rivalry was legendary in the arena, but little did anyone know… there was another kind of tension simmering beneath the surface. A tension I’m only now brave enough to admit.

It started with small things - a glance that lingered too long, a brush of hands as we passed each other in the corridors. At first, I wrote it off as nerves or my imagination playing tricks on me. But the more we clashed in the arena, the more I found myself craving… not just victory, but him. It was as if every shot fired, every dodge executed, was a silent message between us. A language only we understood. I remember one particularly heated match where our mechs locked arms, powerfists mere inches apart. In that frozen moment, our eyes met through the cockpit windows, and I swear I saw something there… something that made my heart race more than any battle ever could.

Of course, Squid’s sudden disappearance put an end to whatever might have been. But even now, two years later, I find myself wondering… what if? What if he’d stayed? What if we’d acted on that undeniable pull between us? It’s funny - as a mech pilot, I’ve faced down danger countless times without flinching. But admitting this desire feels riskier than any arena battle. Still, there’s something freeing about confessing it here. Maybe someday I’ll find out what could have been… or perhaps this confession will lead to a new chapter altogether. Until then, I’ll keep piloting ‘Bad Girl’ and wondering about the what-ifs of love and rivalry in the 26th century.