The stars hung silent, a velvet sea stretching beyond the viewport of the Zeon flagship. Below, Earth loomed like a patient beast, its surface scarred by fire and smoke. The Odessa front simmered beneath gray clouds, a cauldron of war waiting to boil over.
Inside the war council chamber, low gravity kept the elite soldiers tethered to their restraints. Their voices were hushed, the air heavy with tension. For all their loyalty to Zeon, no one here could deny the scale of the Federation's advance.
At the head of the table, Char Aznable raised a gloved hand. The hologram bloomed before them, lines of red and green clashing across the projection of Odessa. His tone was measured, commanding without force.
"The Federation presses harder with every wave. Their numbers are vast, but their formations lack discipline. If we strike where their lines stretch thin, we hold Odessa. Delay. Bleed them. Precision will preserve us."
The assembled pilots nodded. Some with confidence. Others with grim hesitation.
Jason Arkadi leaned back in his harness, watching in silence. His gaze flickered between Char's calm movements and the faint text only he could see, hovering over the hologram like an overlay.
[System Notice: Combat readiness assessment engaged.]
[Available Units: 6x Zaku II Squads. 2x Dom Squads. 1x Zudah Squad Prototype.]
[Special Units: Char Aznable – Red Custom Zudah. Unknown Entity 'Griveous' – Psychommu-type Gelgoog.]
[Projected Tactical Success Probability: 52%.]
Jason exhaled through his nose. The number never lied. Fifty-two percent. It wasn't victory—it was a coin flip.
Char's voice cut through again, crisp and assured. "We must delay our descent until the Federation commits its third wave. Once their units are drawn forward, we strike at their flank, shatter supply lines, and crush morale. Our strength lies not in numbers but in timing."
There was a ripple of agreement. Some of the unnamed elites nodded, grateful for direction. Others muttered, doubt twisting their features.
Jason remained still, but his system whispered again.
[Analysis: Char Aznable – Leadership Rating A+. Pilot Skill Rating S-. Probability of squad cohesion: High.]
Jason thought wryly, Yeah, no kidding. Guy could probably convince half the ship to dive naked into atmosphere if he said it with that mask on.
He didn't speak. He never did. Not in meetings like this.
Then a voice like metal tearing steel shattered the calm.
"Wasteful."
The chamber froze.
General Griveous floated forward, cloak drifting around his massive mechanical frame. His eyes gleamed with unnatural light, his voice a guttural rasp that silenced even the boldest of pilots.
"Why toy with maneuvers?" he snarled. "Strike their rear. Cut their command. Kill their officers, and the Federation scum will scatter like insects."
The room went utterly still. Even the bravest Zeon elites dared not breathe too loud. They were veterans, aces, proud sons of the Principality—but Griveous was something else. Something beyond Zeon.
Jason's system flickered violently.
[Warning: Unknown anomaly detected.]
[Designation 'Griveous' exceeds mechanical baselines.]
[Combat prediction unreliable.]
Jason gritted his teeth. His system didn't get scared, but if it admitted unreliability, then the man—or machine—was beyond calculation.
Char tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing behind his mask. Then, to Jason's surprise, his voice softened into something almost amused.
"Direct. Brutal. Not inaccurate."
He tapped the hologram, adjusting vectors with a few swift motions. "Then so be it. We will descend upon their rear. Six squads of Zakus will break their supply corridors. Two Dom squads will hammer the core. The Zudah squad will serve as precision. I will lead in my custom. And General Griveous—"
Char paused just long enough to let the weight settle.
"—will drive through the heart of their command."
The pilots shifted. Some stiffened with renewed zeal. Others swallowed hard, still uneasy at the monstrous figure floating before them.
Jason glanced around. The unnamed aces whispered affirmations, their voices thin, their eyes a mix of awe and fear. None dared to question.
His system chimed again.
[Drop Sequence Locked. Atmospheric re-entry ETA: 02:15:00.]
[Warning: Combat environment unstable. Federation command integrity critical variable.]
Jason clenched a fist, nails biting into his palm. This isn't just Zeon's war anymore. Not with him here.
The meeting dissolved into final orders. Pilots saluted, their words sharp but their eyes uncertain. Char drifted gracefully from the chamber, mask gleaming in the low light. His composure had not cracked once.
Griveous remained still for a moment longer, mechanical limbs folded like a predator biding its time. Then, without a word, he turned and stalked toward the hangar bay. His cloak trailed behind him like a shadow no light could break.
Jason lingered, the last to leave. He stared once more at the projection of Odessa, its lines shifting under the weight of inevitability. His system flickered one last time.
[Note: Current probability irrelevant. Unknown variable Griveous destabilizes prediction models.]
Jason's lips tightened. Figures. Even my system doesn't want to touch him.
When he finally drifted from the chamber, the silence of orbit pressed heavy around him. Below, Earth turned steadily, waiting to drag them into fire.
And when they dropped, there would be no turning back.
Hours later, alone in the dim cabin of his quarters, Jason sat before the cold glow of his system interface. Lines of options scrolled past, neat and clinical, like a vending machine for power.
[System Store – Available Upgrades]
Enhanced Reactor Calibration – 80 pts
High-Mobility Frame Adjustments – 120 pts
Zaku II Weapon Refit Package – 200 pts
Newtype Potential (Sealed) – 1000 pts
Jason's eyes froze on the last line. The glowing text pulsed faintly, like it was daring him to press.
He rubbed his temples. Newtype… of course it's here. The Federation has Amuro. Zeon has Lalah, Char, who knows how many more. And me? I'm just a guy with a glorified parts catalog for a system.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. His heart pounded faster at the thought. But if I unlock this… I stop being just Jason Arkadi. I start playing in their league.
His system broke the silence.
[Warning: Purchase will permanently alter user. Side effects unpredictable.]
[Probability of survival in frontline combat increases by 34.6%.]
Jason chuckled dryly, though there was no humor in it. "So you're telling me it's a gamble. Figures."
For a long moment, his finger hovered over the selection. The glow painted his face, half-hope, half-fear.
Outside his viewport, Earth rolled into the shadow of night, preparing for the storm to come.
Jason whispered to himself, voice low and almost trembling. "If this is what it takes to survive Griveous… then maybe I don't have a choice."
The cursor blinked. His hand trembled. And in that moment, Jason Arkadi understood just how far from ordinary he had already drifted.