The lab was quiet for once, just the hum of cooling fans and the faint buzz of holo-displays filling the air. Gary Lin leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head, admiring the last schematics on the screen. Duel Gundam's frame glowed in perfect white, Blitz's shadowy silhouette beside it. The design packages were already on their way to Federation R&D.
"Two weeks," he murmured proudly, "and I just dragged this world's MS tech ahead by a decade."
He spun lazily in his chair, enjoying the small moment of peace. The Southeast Asia battle had been exhausting — briefing after briefing, endless meetings, engineers who nearly cried when told they had to build a whole new Gundam in days. But they'd done it. The Strike had been born, fielded, and had turned the tide.
A soft chime cut through the air.
Ding.
Gary glanced at the console. The system window hovered politely.
"Reminder: Summon Function unlocked. It is recommended that the host review summon protocols prior to first activation."
Gary grinned. "Yeah, yeah. I know what I'm doing."
"Warning—"
He swiped the message away before it could finish. "Tutorials are for cowards. Summon now."
The system paused, then replied with its usual calm.
"Summon procedure initiated."
The lights in the lab dimmed as if the whole base held its breath. Gary leaned forward, heart racing. "Here we go. Come on, give me something cool. A real ace. Someone who can wipe the floor with Zeon."
A low hum filled the room, building in pitch until a brief flash of light burst from the summoning console. Gary blinked away the afterimage.
Then… silence.
He frowned, glancing around the room. No one was there. No mysterious figure standing in front of him, no dramatic entrance.
"What the hell?"
The system's voice was annoyingly calm.
"Summon successful. Subject integrated into world narrative."
Gary's frown deepened. "Integrated? Where is he?"
"Subject assigned to nearest narrative-compatible location."
He narrowed his eyes. "Which is?"
"Zeon Newtype Research Base. Flanagan Institute Auxiliary Site."
Gary froze. His grin fell away, replaced with confusion. "Wait. You put him in Zeon territory?"
"Affirmative. Subject background and personality aligned with Zeon faction values. Subject registered as Zeon special operative."
Gary blinked once, twice. Then his jaw dropped.
"You WHAT?"
The console didn't answer. Just a calm readout appeared.
Name: General Grievous
Origin World:Star Wars
Role: Tactical Commander / Melee Specialist / Mobile Suit Pilot (Adaptation Pending)
Faction: Principality of Zeon
Gary's pulse spiked. His mouth went dry. "No. No, no, no. That's not what I wanted!"
The screen didn't change.
"I just gave Zeon a super-soldier," Gary whispered.
Images filled his mind — GM squads being carved apart by four glowing beam sabers, Zaku units cheering as a towering cyborg cut through Federation armor like paper.
He grabbed his head, pacing the room. "I didn't check the alignment settings. I didn't read the protocol. I just—ugh!"
His voice echoed in the empty lab.
The system, ever helpful, added,
"Subject fully adapted to world setting. Integration complete. Background story established as Zeon special operative recovered during off-record experiment. Personality profile matches loyalty to Zeon war effort."
Gary slumped against the console. "You mean I basically gave them a backstory to justify him fighting us."
"Affirmative."
He groaned loudly, dragging his hands down his face. "Perfect. Just perfect. The Federation's gonna LOVE me when they start losing more GMs than they can replace."
He stalked across the lab, muttering under his breath. "He's going to adapt to MS combat so fast. Four arms. Four beam sabers. Do you know what kind of nightmare that will be for a GM squad?"
The system stayed quiet.
"Great. Just great."
Gary stopped, took a deep breath, and stared at the schematics for the Aegis Gundam still hovering on-screen.
"Fine," he said finally. "If Zeon gets a monster, we'll just build something bigger. Something faster. I am not letting my first summon turn the war against us."
He tapped the console, pulling up the Federation's development queue. "We need production versions of these Gundams yesterday. produce the Duel first. Then we'll worry about heavy-hitters like Buster."
Another chime from the system interrupted his frantic planning.
"Warning: Further summons may escalate balance of power unpredictably."
Gary smirked, though it was a dark, humorless thing now. "Good. I didn't come here to play fair."
He reopened the summon menu, staring at the options. His reflection in the glass looked tired but resolute.
"This war just became personal."
He opened the Summon interface, heart pounding. His fingers moved faster than his brain, but the result slapped him like a bucket of ice water.
Ding.
Insufficient Points.
Gary blinked. "What?"
"Host lacks sufficient PS points to perform additional summon," the system answered matter-of-factly.
His chest tightened. "That's impossible. I just cleared the Southeast Asia mission! I should have enough for at least one more—"
"Summon performed under random selection protocol," the system explained. "Random summon requires standard cost. Specific summon requires premium cost."
Gary's jaw worked silently before he slammed his fist on the table. "You could have told me that BEFORE I spun the damn wheel!"
"System attempted to deliver protocol warning prior to activation. Host manually skipped message."
He buried his face in his hands. "I could have had Luke Skywalker. Or War Chief. Or even David from Cyberpunk! Hell, anyone but Grievous! Instead I just handed Zeon a four-armed murder machine who probably thinks this is his personal Clone Wars."
"Summon result optimal for narrative escalation," the system said without an ounce of shame.
Gary glared at the floating text. "Optimal for what, exactly?"
"No further explanation available at this time."
He sank back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts spun. For a brief, almost insane moment, his imagination ran wild. What if I'd summoned Darth Vader? Or the Emperor? Or— Emperor's teeth— Horus from Warhammer?
The thought alone sent a chill crawling down his spine.
"System," he said quietly, "those kinds of powers… Force, Psyker abilities, Chaos corruption — do they even work here?"
The system chimed. "All supernatural powers from integrated sci-fi worlds are converted into this timeline's metaphysical framework: Newtype resonance and evolution. This prevents paradoxical interference and anomaly detection by world stability protocols."
Gary blinked, then gave a bitter little laugh. "So what, if Vader showed up, he'd just be the scariest damn Newtype alive?"
"Affirmative. Abilities would adapt to local metaphysical rules. Resulting entity would still maintain combat potential consistent with source narrative."
He rubbed his face, exhaling through his teeth. "Great. Just great. At least that means people like Amuro and Char might actually stand a chance against something like him."
A small, grim smile tugged at his lips. "Maybe this world still has a fighting chance. Even against the kind of monsters I can call down."
His smile faded into hard determination. "But next time, I'm not gambling blind. I'm going to grind until I have enough points for a targeted summon. Someone I can actually trust at my side."
The system stayed silent, as if acknowledging his resolve.
Gary leaned forward, eyes narrowing at the glowing console. "If I'm stuck in this war, I'm not going to sit back and watch history spin out of control. If I have to earn points in blood, so be it. I'll get my army."
He shut off the display and stood, feeling the weight of his choice settle on him like a physical thing. For the first time since arriving in this world, his path forward was painfully, terrifyingly clear.