The void before Solomon shimmered with light — not from stars, but from the gathering storm of war. Federation fleets pressed forward in a glimmering wall of fire and metal, the final offensive of men who refused to kneel. Within the fortress, Zeon's great heart pounded like an engine running too hot, every corridor humming with soldiers, engineers, and pilots rushing to stations.
Jason Arkadi stood upon the elevated platform of the Zeon Development Department's hangar, surrounded by the roar of turbines and the scent of ionized steel. His hands, coated in oil and nanofiber dust, trembled with exhaustion — and pride. After months of sleepless labor, it was complete. The twin pillars of Zeon's next evolution: Elmeth and Great Zeong.
Before him, the massive bulk of Elmeth floated in silent majesty, its surface gleaming like obsidian glass. The machine was terrifyingly elegant — smooth curves concealing a core built to command space through will alone. Psycho-comm system glowing faintly violet, it was no longer just a mobile armor — it was the embodiment of the "Newtype dream." Jason exhaled, voice low.
"So this is what it means to reach beyond humanity."
Behind him, heavy mechanical footsteps echoed — the kind that resonated with unnatural precision. General Grievous approached, his mechanical frame cloaked in black armor plates customized with Zeon insignia. The engineers gave him a wide berth, unease written across their faces. To them, he wasn't a pilot — he was a weapon in human shape.
Jason turned slightly, forcing calm. "General. The Elmeth system is synchronized with your reaction core. Its control frame has been rebuilt for your cybernetic interface."
Grievous' deep, guttural breath rasped through his vocoder. "A fine craft. Cold. Efficient. I can sense its potential even without your words."
His eyes — burning gold — reflected the psycho-flare of Elmeth's reactor as it pulsed. Jason watched the cyborg's stance, both warrior and predator. "Kycilia Zabi wanted you as a countermeasure," Jason said carefully. "A weapon to face whatever the Federation calls 'Newtype'."
Grievous tilted his head, almost amused. "So be it. Let them send their prophets of evolution. I'll show them the perfection of metal."
The hangar lights dimmed, and another presence stepped in — confident, regal even under the weight of war. Char Aznable walked forward, crimson uniform immaculate, expression unreadable. Every step drew attention from the mechanics and pilots nearby. He paused beside Grievous, eyes on the second platform where the Great Zeong rested like a slumbering titan.
Unlike the Elmeth's smooth armor, the Great Zeong was an armored cathedral of power — far larger than any conventional mobile suit, yet somehow graceful. Its limbs were half-separated for maintenance, showing the intricate reactor arrays inside. The head unit — distinctly Char's design — gleamed with that same red streak he favored.
Jason stepped toward him. "This one is yours, Captain Aznable. The Great Zeong — a masterpiece born from every ounce of data we've gathered since the One Year War began."
Char folded his arms, gaze intense. "It looks… excessive."
Jason smiled faintly. "You'll find it necessary. The Great Zeong is designed for full synchronization — body, mind, and will. You've been chosen because the Newtype Department believes your potential matches its resonance threshold."
That earned a faint lift of Char's brow. "Newtype potential, they say. Zeon's latest fantasy."
Jason didn't answer. He simply keyed the holographic display, showing luminous spheres around the Great Zeong — units pulsing like eyes. "These are your sub-reactor arms. Each controlled through thought. You'll command them not as limbs, but as extensions of your will."
Grievous chuckled, metallic and sharp. "He'll need more than will when the Federation arrives."
Char's eyes flicked toward him — a warrior's recognition of another killer. "And you must be the General Kycilia imported from another war. You're no man."
"I was once," Grievous replied, the echo of pride still there. "And what are you, masked pilot? A ghost chasing ideals?"
For a moment, silence — two predators measuring each other.
Jason stepped in quickly. "Both of you have your roles. Grievous — Elmeth will spearhead the remote interception of Federation units. Char — Great Zeong will act as the primary defensive weapon near Solomon's core. Together, you'll hold the line."
Char looked up at the towering machine again, the light from the monitors reflecting across his visor. "And the others?"
Jason gestured to a lower bay where four Zeong-type suits stood — smaller, refined, bearing experimental control systems. "The Newtype cadets. Zeon's future. They will fly the Zeong Kai units. They look up to you, Captain. You'll command them in battle."
Char studied the cadets — young, nervous, reverent. His expression softened, if only for a moment. "Children playing gods," he murmured. "So Zeon truly believes this evolution can be trained."
"Or forced," Jason said under his breath.
The lights brightened, illuminating the final readiness checks. Engineers called out sync readings, reactor alignments, Minovsky ratios. Jason ignored the noise, eyes fixed on the glowing digital counter in his wrist monitor — the reflection of his system. The lines flickered, displaying his accumulated development points, data fragments, and schematics from parallel technology projects.
> [Blueprint Integration: Complete]
[New Constructs Registered: Elmeth, Great Zeong, Zeong Kai x4]
[System Reward: Design Potential +30%]
Jason exhaled, mind racing. Every advancement he created for Zeon came with a cost. His system rewarded innovation — not morality. He could feel the quiet hunger behind the data feed, as though something unseen fed on every new design born from human desperation.
He turned off the display and looked again at the machines before him. Grievous already boarding the Elmeth, his metal limbs clanking in perfect rhythm. Char, silently observing the Great Zeong's cockpit, expression unreadable beneath his mask.
"These are not weapons," Jason whispered to himself. "They're graves waiting for names."
The comm line crackled. Kycilia's voice cut through, cold and sharp.
> "Dr. Arkadi, report status."
"Deployment ready. Both Great Zeong and Elmeth are at combat condition."
"Excellent. Dozle will hold the front. You and your pilots will ensure Solomon stands."
The transmission ended with static, leaving only the pulse of engines and the hiss of coolant vents. Jason closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling the vibration of the entire fortress.
Soon, the Federation would arrive.
Soon, the stars would burn again.
He turned, walking toward the observation window overlooking the hangar — his gaze caught on the faint blue glow of the Earth far below. Somewhere out there, Tanya and Lelouch von Zehrtfeld were moving toward their fates. On different sides. Like two pieces drawn to collide.
Jason clenched his fists. "Let's see whose god watches this time."
Behind him, the Great Zeong's reactor roared to life — a sound like thunder in metal.
The Elmeth followed, silent and deadly, its psycho waves rippling through the hangar like a heartbeat.
And deep inside his system interface, new words appeared, pulsing faintly:
> [Phase Transition: The Battle of Solomon – Commence]