LightReader

Chapter 13 - The Crucible of Granada

UC 0076

The cry of the automated gong echoed through the sprawling granite halls of the Granada Training Facility, newly retrofitted to accommodate the grueling Zaku Prototype evaluation trials. A heavy haze of recycled air mixed with the scent of metal and anxiety. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, bathing the room in impersonal, clinical brightness.

Standing at attention, eight cadets faced a stern figure draped in the uniform of the Zeon principality Army. Shin Matsunaga, famed for his ruthless perfectionism and iron discipline, wasted no time with pleasantries.

"You're not pilots," his voice cut through the murmur like a pulse. "You're test weights. Show me you're more than scrap."

That was the brief—a brutal articulation of their worth as being dependent solely on their ability to endure, adapt, and excel under relentless pressure. Matsunaga's gaze swept over them like a dissecting blade before he turned and strode away.

The Granada Evaluation Division, or GED, was no ordinary cadet battalion. Within this disparate band of eight, two distinct groups formed, each led by a Von Zehrtfeldt twin, their lines etched not just by blood but by starkly contrasting personalities.

Lelouch Von Zehrtfeldt exuded the calm precision of a chess master. His obsidian hair and piercing eyes gave him a commanding air, his voice always deliberate, his strategy cerebral.

His twin sister, Tanya Von Zehrtfeldt, was the embodied contradiction—fiery and instinctive, faster to move and quicker to react. The red of her own team's insignia matched the fervor in her heart and the scintilla of danger that clung to her presence.

Day One: Trial by Fire

The first exercise was a simulation involving the Zaku I mock-up units—rudimentary and clunky machines designed to push the limits of new pilots. Overhead displays hummed to life, streaming data and enemy contact visuals in the tactical room.

Lelouch's Black Team gathered quietly, each member ready to dive into the layered drills. Ines Walden, the tech whiz with ice-blue eyes and nimble fingers, calibrated the simulation interfaces, while Damon Rill—once a charismatic instructor for mock-combat training—smiled wryly, the weight of his past evident in the muscle memory it brought.

Seda Rehm prepared medical kits, her steady hands belying the underlying tension gripping her chest; combat-ready and healing hands combined were the paradox her role demanded.

Across the hall, Tanya's Red Team assembled, taut and ready. Mila Korentz hefted a heavy mock-rocket launcher, the weapon's weight a familiar friend. Yuri Drax, pale-eyed and kill-quiet, monitored the experimental data feeds silently. Colt Weber, his body scarred and his gaze steely, flexed his fingers with the practiced patience of a man who'd survived hell and refused to break.

"Remember," Tanya whispered to her team, "move as one. Watch each other's six—every inch counts."

The Gauntlet Begins

Zaku I cockpits hissed shut, seals clicking as the trainees entered the metal beasts. Zero-G mobility gauntlets flared in holographic displays, their futuristic tech a necessary bridge between human reflexes and mechanical response.

Lelouch's voice filtered through the comm, calm as a shadow but firm. "Black Team, engage formation tactics Alpha. Ines, I want data on system latency and feedback loops. Damon, simulate aggressive assault runs. Seda, monitor vitals. We cannot afford fractures in discipline or body."

The room vibrated as the mock units lumbered in the simulated terrain. Zero gravity meant a dance of inertia and space, each pilot pushed beyond simple joystick control.

Meanwhile, Tanya barked in rapid bursts: "Mila, suppression fire on Sector Four! Colt, flank left. Yuri, feed me enemy movement coordinates."

Yuri's pale eyes flicked, feeding streams of tactical data to Tanya's HUD. The silence around him was deceptive; a tangled hive of neural activity worked beneath his calm facade.

In the Mind's Eye

Tactical room simulations tested their strategic mettle. Scenarios twisted and folded, enemy MS maneuvers shifting unpredictably. Mental stress tests followed—long hours staring into simulated hellscapes, their psyches ground on the sterile wheels of psychological endurance.

Lelouch and Tanya's approaches diverged like parallel lines: Lelouch calculated, dissected his opponents' likely responses with the surgeon's precision. Tanya reacted, instincts laced with blistering speed, powered by sheer will.

Between shifts of drills, the twins found moments of quiet together in the barracks. The dim light filtered through the small window of their shared room.

"You think we'll make it through this," Tanya asked, voice low and soaked in fatigue.

Lelouch's eyes, sharp as ever, softened just a fraction. "We don't have a choice. But remember, Tanya, it's not just with our machines we fight. It's with our minds and hearts."

She managed a tired nod, gripping the twin pendant they shared—a small gesture of their unspoken bond amid the incomprehensible pressure.

Cracks and Steel

Challenges tore through the days: a miscalculated approach caused Colt to limp through a neutralized simulation, hairs on one arm burning with fresh memory of past failures.

Damon, flirting dangerously with impatience, pushed to exhaustion. Ines caught subtle errors in system parameters mid-flight, her fraught breaths underscoring the weight of their task.

But amidst it all, Seda performed as a backbone. Her dual roles blurred—the calm medic tending to mental fractures, the quiet combatant ready to step up should the need arise.

Matsunaga's shadow loomed throughout, a relentless observer who offered only harsh critique or terse nods of approval. His expectations made them steel themselves, sharpen their minds into weapons as much as their mobile suits.

Forged in Granada

By the end of the first grueling week, the GED was changing. The individuals and rough edges had begun to coalesce into tight units—Red Team burned with Tanya's fire, quick and unyielding, while Black Team flowed like lead under Lelouch's calculated hand.

The final trial for the day was a zero-G gauntlet run, an obstacle course of spatial puzzles and combat mimicry. As the Zaku I units thrummed to life, each pilot gambled their skill, their clarity of mind sharpened to a razor's edge.

Tanya's voice cut crisp on the comms, "We move fast. Trust your instincts."

Lelouch's counter, "Precision first. Don't rush—win the battle before it begins."

The mock battlefield—a swirling black void streaked with distant stars and fragment debris—reacted to their every movement. It was a crucible, one that would ultimately decide their future as pilots worthy of the Zaku II. And as the day collapsed into night, each of them lay down, exhausted but not broken, the taste of grit and determination heavy on their tongues.

Later, beneath the cold light of a Granada moon, the twins shared one last covert exchange.

"Tanya," Lelouch said, "Matsunaga's right. We're not pilots yet. But if we can become more than scrap here—if we can endure this—maybe we can truly change the tide of the incoming war."

Tanya's sharp eyes glimmered with unspent fire. "Then we'll survive. Together."

As the winds of UC 0076 howled through the barren grounds, the Von Zehrtfeldt twins prepared themselves to face not only the trials of machines and simulations but the heroes they were fated to become.

More Chapters