The Odessa encampment was restless. The Federation had not yet struck, but the soldiers could feel it coming, like the air before a storm. Engines rumbled in the distance, mobile suits loomed in the shadows, and watchfires burned low across the defensive lines. Within the command tent set aside for her squad, Tanya von Zehrtfeld stood before her three subordinates.
Mila shifted uneasily, brushing dust from her uniform, while Ritcher leaned against a supply crate with his arms crossed, his expression calm but sharp. Zhou Wei sat straight-backed, his rifle across his knees, as if already awaiting orders. Tanya scanned them with her usual sharp gaze.
"The Federation will come soon," Tanya said flatly, her voice carrying no trace of doubt. "And when they do, you must be ready to move. No excuses. No hesitation. Sleep light. Eat fast. Keep your rifles by your beds. If the alarms sound, we deploy immediately."
Mila bit her lip. "Commander… do we even stand a chance? The rumors say they're bringing half their army to crush us."
Ritcher gave her a sidelong look. "Rumors don't matter. Orders do."
Zhou Wei bowed his head slightly. "We are prepared, Commander. Whatever comes, we follow."
Tanya nodded once, pleased at their discipline. "That's the spirit. Discipline first. Fear later. Remember, it isn't about glory—it's about survival. A soldier without discipline is already dead." She allowed herself a thin, wolfish smile. "Now, get what rest you can. Tomorrow will come whether we're ready or not."
The squad saluted, and Tanya dismissed them. As they dispersed to their cots, she stepped outside the tent. The night air was cold, filled with the metallic tang of oil and the faint smell of gunpowder. Mechanics worked by lamplight on the Zaku II suits lined up like silent sentinels. Dom and Gouf units were parked under canvas covers, their shadows looming like predatory beasts. In the distance, the hulking frame of a Zudah was being tested, its thrusters roaring for a moment before sputtering to a stop.
Tanya walked past it all, her boots crunching in the dirt, until she saw him. Ramba Ral stood near a row of mobile suits, a cigarette in hand, his broad shoulders outlined against the lamplight. His face was calm, but his eyes carried the weight of a soldier who had lived too long in the shadow of war.
"Commander von Zehrtfeld," he greeted with a faint smile. "Or should I say… Tanya. You walk like a veteran twice your age."
Tanya's brow arched. "That's what war does. It strips away youth and leaves only soldiers."
Ral chuckled, though it was humorless. "You're not wrong." He took a drag of his cigarette and let the smoke curl into the night sky. Then his voice grew more serious. "When the Federation comes, it won't be pretty. If they break through, I intend to hold the final line. Someone has to make the last stand."
Tanya tilted her head, studying him. His words carried no self-pity, only a grim acceptance.
"I only hope," Ral continued, "that you'll survive. Zeon will need soldiers like you after this battle. If there's to be a future, it must rest in younger hands."
Tanya crossed her arms. "You speak as if you've already chosen your grave."
Ral's smile faded, his eyes darkening with memory. "Perhaps I have. Long ago, I failed to protect the Deikun children—Artesia and Casval. They were just children, and I could not save them from the storm that followed. That failure has haunted me every day since. The only reason I took up arms again was because I heard of two young geniuses rising within Zeon's military ranks. Hope flickered again, for a moment."
His gaze turned distant, sorrow creeping into his voice. "I regret never meeting Lelouch von Zehrtfeld. They say his mind is unmatched. And then I met you, Tanya. A soldier with fire in her eyes. It reminded me of what I once fought for."
He crushed the cigarette beneath his boot, his jaw tightening. "If the time comes, run. You're young. Don't chain yourself to a single battlefield. Don't let this war consume you like it has consumed me."
For a long moment, Tanya said nothing. The lamplight flickered, and the camp seemed to quiet around them. Finally, she spoke, her tone sharp.
"So you've lived your entire life for Zeon? That was your choice? Or just the chains this world shackled you with?"
Ral froze. Her words cut deeper than he expected. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, suddenly unsure. He had never questioned it—not truly. Zeon had been his life, his purpose, his very identity. But when Tanya asked the question, it left a crack in his certainty.
Tanya turned on her heel, her golden hair catching the light as she walked away. "Think about it, Commander Ral. Whether you lived for Zeon… or whether Zeon simply used you."
Ral stood in silence, her words echoing in his mind. For the first time in years, he wondered if the path he had taken had ever been his own choice.
Tanya left him behind, her steps steady, but her mind anything but calm. As the shadows closed around her, her thoughts turned bitter and familiar.
Being X. That cursed god, still laughing somewhere beyond this world. He had thrown her into this life, into another war, into another body doomed to fight. He had forced her into Zeon's uniform, shackled her fate to battles she had never chosen.
She clenched her fists, her teeth grinding. "Damn you. I will not die here as your bait. If you think Odessa will be my grave, you're sorely mistaken."
Her voice was low, nearly a growl, but it carried all the fire of her hatred. The night swallowed it, but the words remained burning inside her chest.
Tomorrow, the Federation would attack. And Tanya von Zehrtfeld would be ready—not for glory, not for Zeon, but to spit in the face of the god who cursed her life.
High above the battlefield, in the silence between stars, Being X drifted unseen. Tanya's venomous curses still echoed faintly in the cosmic ether, but for once, he did not answer back. His gaze was fixed elsewhere.
"Ah… so it wasn't me this time." His voice was low, almost amused, though tinged with annoyance. "Jason Arkadi, Gary Lin, Lelouch and Tanya. Two souls pulled into this stage by World's will,two soul the creator know how ended up here and the world's Will think they virus, and all happen there are not by my hand. No… ."
He folded his arms, watching the strange players move across the board. Tanya's relentless defiance. Jason's quiet but sharp instincts with basic system. Gary's reckless and Protagonist self thinking along High tier system. And Lelouch, already weaving his strings into a web meant to catch gods and men alike.
"Such boldness," Being X muttered, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a scowl. "To think the Will of this world would drag in outsiders—transmigrants—just to deal with one stubborn little girl who refuses to bend. the cursed soldier, and a man that world think he is demon while he just want peace.Tanya von—no, tanya, Even here, you attract trouble beyond comprehension."
He chuckled softly, though there was no warmth in the sound.
"But beware, oh proud World Will. You meddle with things beyond your measure. To tamper with souls not of your soil… do you understand the risk? If you keep threading these universes together, you may not simply strengthen your defense."
His gaze darkened. "You may merge with them."
A flick of his hand, and before his eyes, a cascade of phantom visions shimmered—Jedi cloaks brushing against Zabi uniforms, Warhammer daemons towering over colonies, Starfleet ships drifting in side-by-side formation with Zeon Musai cruisers. Worlds overlapping, colliding, reshaping into something grotesque and unrecognizable. This is what potential future about this world he see if the world's Will can't control all thing
Being X snorted and leaned back, as though sitting on a throne of starlight. "Still… I won't interfere. Not yet. Let them play your little war. Let Jason and Gary march toward Tanya's throat. Let Lelouch plot the downfall of nations. It will all be entertaining enough."
Then, with the faintest sigh, he added, "But when the seams of your universe begin to tear, don't you dare come crying to me. You chose this."
His laughter drifted through the void, mocking and sharp, yet underneath it all was the weight of a warning meant for something even greater than Tanya herself.