The second day of the Federation's renewed assault on Solomon began in a cold, breathless quiet. The battlefield from yesterday still floated in pieces—broken hulls drifting like silent tombstones. Admiral Tianem stood at the bridge of his flagship, watching tactical screens flicker to life as his fleet prepared once more for war. The tension in the air was sharp enough to taste.
"Status," Tianem said with steady authority.
"Frontline cruisers ready. Mobile suit teams standing by. Vanguard under Shirogane Miyuki is moving into forward assault position," the officer reported.
Tianem nodded. "This time, we break their line."
Every crewman understood what he meant. Yesterday was chaos—unexpected aces, Zeon counterattacks, and uncertain command chains. But today, the Federation was aligned. Their resolve sharpened. Their Gundams repaired and refitted. They would pierce Solomon's defenses no matter the cost.
Inside White Base's hangar, Sayla Mass sat rigid in the cockpit of the RX-78, whispering to herself as the screens lit around her. "Steady… just like Amuro taught me…"
A mechanic floated up beside the Gundam's torso. "You ready, ma'am?"
Sayla forced a breath. "I have to be."
Before the hatch sealed, Bright Noa's voice echoed through the bay. "Sayla. Amuro believes in you. We all do."
She nodded, closed the hatch, and allowed herself a brief moment to center her fear.
Shirogane Miyuki's fleet surged ahead, cutting through space with flawless precision. Her flagship glowed under engine light as her formation spread into an arrowhead, aiming for Solomon's first defensive ring. Her voice, crisp and unwavering, filled her comm-channel.
"All ships, arrowhead formation. Maintain speed. Forward batteries prepare for initial strike."
Her officers responded instantly, as if wired directly to her intent. And with a simple command—"Begin"—her fleet unleashed the opening barrage, beams slicing through Zeon's early-warning turrets before they could power up. A path opened, slim but undeniable.
Behind them, the Gundams launched in roaring bursts of light.
Hikigaya's Blitz slid forward like a black phantom, Mikazuki's Duel followed with brutal momentum, Lockon's Buster drifted with rifle ready, and Athrun's Aegis emerged like a red spear poised to strike. Sayla launched last, the RX-78 shaking as it entered space.
"This is Sayla… RX-78 launching!"
"Keep formation!" Bright ordered. "Do not overextend!"
"I'll try," Sayla answered, voice tight with nerves.
Zeon's control room inside Solomon erupted with alarms. General Delaz stood with hands behind his back, his stern face lit by red warnings.
"Federation vanguard incoming," his officer shouted. "Gundam signatures detected!"
Delaz exhaled through his nose. "So Tianem finally commits. Very well. Prep the batteries. We hold the line."
The first Zeon volley lit the void, massive beams erupting like sunfire.
Shirogane's voice cut sharply through her bridge. "Evasive pattern Zero-Cross."
Her vanguard moved in perfect synchronization, ships weaving between beams with terrifying precision. One cruiser took a glancing hit, hull tearing open—but it kept formation.
"Hold," she commanded. "We push."
Behind her, Tianem's officers watched her maneuvering with awe. "She's carving a corridor through sheer force of will…"
"Then follow her," Tianem ordered. "We go through that path or we die outside it."
Sayla's first real battle came fast. A Rick Dom squadron rushed her position, beams firing wildly. She froze for a moment—
"Too high," Hikigaya snapped. "Adjust or you'll die."
"I—I'm trying!"
Mikazuki cut down a Dom targeting her flank. "Don't talk. Shoot."
Sayla raised her rifle, breath shaking. She fired—
and a Dom burst into flames.
"I got one…"
"Good," Hikigaya said flatly. "Now keep doing that."
Lockon and Athrun fired synchronized artillery overhead, shredding Zeon turrets and forcing them offline. Griveous's Elmeth squadron attempted to counterattack, but Athrun intercepted him, slashing aggressively.
"You again? You Federation pests never learn!" Griveous snarled.
"You should talk," Lockon teased. "Considering how fast you ran yesterday."
Griveous screamed, lunging.
Meanwhile, Shirogane's fleet tightened their corridor, her officers in awe at her calm execution. "How do you stay so composed?" one whispered.
"Panic never wins wars," she replied simply.
But Zeon's counterattack surged back with desperation. Delaz slammed his fist onto the console inside Solomon. "Flood the corridor! Make them choke!"
Sayla's shield cracked under sudden fire. "I can't—!"
"Left!" Hikigaya shouted.
A beam streaked toward her cockpit—
but a GM shoved her Gundam aside and took the hit instead.
Sayla watched, horrified, as the GM exploded.
"No—!"
"Sayla! Move!" Amuro barked. "Get out of that zone!"
"I—I'm trying!"
"Then MOVE!"
She forced her Gundam to accelerate away, breath trembling. Amuro's voice softened on a private channel.
"Don't die. I've lost enough as it is."
Sayla steadied herself. "I won't. I promise."
Meanwhile, Mikazuki and Hikigaya fought the four Zeongs. Mikazuki crushed the third one with ruthless efficiency. "Three down."
Hikigaya destroyed another. "One left."
The final Zeong retreated—but Lockon and Athrun kept Griveous pinned, preventing any regrouping.
Shirogane's fleet surged again as the Federation pushed deeper. The gap widened, beams tearing across Zeon's outer defenses. Her formation sliced open Solomon's first ring with relentless precision.
And at last—after hours of bombardment, Gundam sorties, and the destruction of countless turrets—the first ring of Solomon began to crumble.
An officer on Shirogane's bridge shouted, "The wall is breaking! Zeon's perimeter is collapsing!"
Shirogane let out a quiet breath. "Then we take the first line."
Tianem's fleet pushed through the torn-open corridor, chasing the retreating Zeon forces.
The Federation had done the impossible.
They broke Solomon's first defense line.
Inside the embattled fortress of Solomon, alarms echo through every corridor as the Federation begins the second phase of its assault. The outer defensive line strains under the relentless pressure of General Tianem's fleet. Mobile suits scramble to frontline positions while artillery clusters roar in response, but the enemy advance tightens with every minute.
Deep within a sealed research hangar, isolated from the chaos, Dozle Zabi strides into the chamber where Zeon's most forbidden machines rest. Towering above him is the massive frame of an experimental Mobile Armor—an early prototype of what he calls the "Zeon master piece," a Mobile armor name the Big Zam. Its domed armor gleams under dim lights, layered with the newly developed beam-coating plates, technology capable of reducing or nullifying beam rifle fire and beam sabers to near harmless levels. Engineers stand at rigid attention, their faces tense with the knowledge that this project exists only because Dozle, through stubborn will and quiet manipulation of supply logs, forced its construction.
The engineers explain that the prototype requires three to five pilots to function at full combat synchronization, its internal systems far too complex for a single operator in its current form. Had Gihren approved Dozle's request one years earlier, this hangar might now contain six to nine functioning Mobile Armors—enough firepower to tear through entire fleets and secure Zeon's dominance. Instead, only two incomplete units exist, both built under Dozle's personal supervision.
Dozle circles the giant machine, running a hand across a section of the armor. The mega particle cannon embedded in its belly mechanism is near completion, capable of output surpassing a battleship's main gun. Stabilizers, thruster arrays, and defensive emitters are being installed at a feverish pace. Every component reflects not ambition, but desperation—a father and a soldier trying to give Zeon a fighting chance as the war closes in.
Outside the sealed walls, distant tremors shake dust from the rafters as the Federation pushes closer. Officers arrive with frantic updates: the first line of defense has been breached, and reinforcements are thinning. Dozle listens with tightening fists, then orders the engineers to prepare the Mobile Armor for emergency deployment. Even unfinished, even unstable, it may be the only force capable of halting Tianem's advance.
Far from the hangar's lights, a quiet figure slips into a maintenance alcove and activates a covert transmitter. This spy—one of Lelouch von Zehrtfeld's hidden operatives—uploads every detail: schematics of the unfinished Mobile Armor, logs of the beam-coating technology, and audio of Dozle's private discussions with the engineers. The transmission is compressed, encrypted, and fired into the Minovsky-choked void.
Aboard a stealth vessel drifting in sensor shadow, Lelouch receives the data. The holographic projection unfolds before him: the Mobile Armor's dome structure, the beam-coating layers, the multi-pilot cockpit, and the nearly completed mega particle cannon. Each detail confirms Lelouch's suspicion. Dozle is preparing a defensive miracle—not for conquest, but for the survival of Solomon itself.
Leaning back, Lelouch watches the rotating schematic with narrowed eyes. A Mobile Armor capable of invalidating the Federation's beam weaponry could change the flow of the battle entirely. But with only two prototypes incomplete and rushed into service, the outcome will be unpredictable—potentially catastrophic.
He closes the report, murmuring, "Dozle Zabi… what war are you trying to fight?"
The transmission fades. Solomon shakes under incoming bombardments. And in the depths of the fortress, the enormous Mobile Armor waits, its armored shell gleaming like the eye of a slumbering titan—soon to awaken in fire.