### **Part 1: First Days of Training**
The bugle-horn's call pierced the silence of the barracks long before dawn.
Kael rolled out of bed, the thin blanket falling from his shoulders as cold air bit at his skin, as the shouting started before his boots even hit the floor.
> "You think this is a vacation, cadets?! Move like your lives depend on it—because one day they will! You have 30 seconds, move ya pile of corpses!"
By the time everyone made it to the yard for morning drills, Kael's arms already and lege ached from the jog over.. Still, he powered through it. Farming didn't just build muscle—it taught you endurance. But this..? This was a whole different level.
Terra-9 wasn't a base—it was a forge, and they were the ore meant to be beaten into shape.
By day two, the verbal jabs had started.
> "What's the matter, Halloway, your feet keep dragging behind?"
> "This isn't a barn, farm boy—you Don't fix your left and rights with duct tape and spit!"
> "Someone teach this hayseed which side is 'dominant.'"
But it wasn't until when they moved to **firearms drills** that things took a turn for the worse.
The instructors lined them up on the range, each cadet handed a simulated plasma rifle—a short-barrel variant designed for foot solder infantry applications.
Kael held the weapon instinctively, left hand on the trigger and went to take aim... Immediately, an officer barked:
> "Oii, You're holding that backwards Halloway?"
Kael blinked. "Sir, I—"
> "I Said.. You're using the wrong hand, dumbass. That's your support hand."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Sir, I'm left-handed! My right is my support hand sir."
The pause was heavy.
The instructor scoffed. "Then *adapt or die*, farm boy. Enemies won't give a damn which hand you 'Prefer' when you're six feet under."
Snickers rippled down the line,
Yet Kael said nothing. He simply flipped the rifle into his right hand, .. it felt unfamiliar, the weight shift was wrong, and yet he still fired anyway.
The commander:
"Miss.
Again.
Miss.
Again!"
> "Oh for the love of—next!"
That night in the mess hall, Kael sat alone, picking at a tasteless slab of rehydrated protein.
He could feel the stares from the other cadets. He wasn't the weakest. He wasn't the slowest. But he was the odd one out. Always off-rhythm. Always half a step behind in the simulation pods. His performance reports were average at best.
Because everything—**everything**—was built for right-handed soldiers.
> "You try being left-handed out there?" one of the other trainees said loudly to his buddy at the next table. "It's like trying to fly a Zaku with your feet. I might as well just ask to die."
Kael stood abruptly, tray clattering as he dropped it off, and stormed out.
That evening, lights out came and went. Kael didn't sleep.
Kael Halloway lay in his bunk, staring up at the dark ceiling, the buzzing hum of the fluorescent lights echoing in his skull.
He didn't miss the farm. Not really.
But he did miss being good at something.
Tomorrow would be different, he told himself.
He would **make** it different.
He just needed a way to fight like himself, not like someone else's idea of a soldier.
---
### **Part 2: Left-Handed Override Command**
That night, Kael Halloway couldn't sleep.
The barracks were dim and still, filled with the soft hum of recycled air and the muffled snores of other trainees. But Kael's mind wouldn't rest. His limbs were tense, jaw clenched, thoughts burning like coals.
He'd failed. Not because he was weak—but because the controls weren't *made* for him.
He was left-handed. And out here, that made him a liability.
Kael sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the cot. The metal was cold under his bare feet. His duffle sat at the base of his bed, half-zipped, a reminder of how little from home he'd brought.
He sighed, dragging it toward him.
Inside were the usual things: spare fatigues, ration bars, a water flask, and—he blinked—his **grandfather's old gloves**. Soft, creased leather with faded initials stitched into the wrist.
*H.H.* — Harold Halloway. Mechanic. War vet. One stubborn bastard.
Kael smiled faintly, slipping them on. They were worn, cracked at the seams, and too big by a finger's width… but they fit where it counted.
*Thanks, Mom,* he thought.
Then something clinked beneath the gloves. A small, beat-up **flash drive**.
There was a note wrapped around it in folded paper, ink smudged by sweat or time:
> **"For when you need to fix what others won't…
> P.S. Don't get caught, loser!"**
> – Mari 💀
Kael's throat tightened with laughter that didn't quite escape.
*Marigold.* ..Of course it was her. His little sister, smarter than she looked and nosier than the little hacker would ever admit. She must've slipped it into the bag before he left.
*Fix what others won't...*
He glanced across the bunkhouse. Still quiet. Still dark.
An idea sparked.
*With this.. it won't matter what simulator I use, I can make it work.*
He pocketed the drive, pulled on his fatigues, and crept out into the hall—silent as a farm cat sneaking off the fence rail—and to his destination.
The **simulation bay**.. it was locked, but the security panel was old tech—barely military grade.
Kael shorted the node with a multitool He found in his bag earlier that week, and pried open the door just wide enough to slide inside.
The training cockpits were mounted on scaffolds and ringed with yellow hazard tape. It looked like the torso of a decommissioned Leo mockup stripped of all color and armor plating, but the interfaces still hummed on standby.
He climbed in the closest one, and the canopy sealed with a quiet hiss.
Kael plugged in the flash drive to the dashboard and yhen opened the internal OS files. Sure enough, the control architecture was exactly like the one back on the farm: old, strict, uncompromising—and completely right-handed.
He cracked his knuckles.
*Time to make her a Lefty!*
---
For two long hours, Kael worked like a man possessed by a cyber demon.
He wrote and rewrote lines of code, scripting a control reroute that diverted the right-hand priority systems to left-hand actuation... Adjusted Shield and weapon control allocation? Moved textures, smoothened turning? Shifted button placements. Adjusted thruster controls and so on..
All of it tied to a single override:
> **LHOC\_Core\_Prototype.Gundam**
> *(Left-Handed Override Command)*
The simulator blinked several times, then confirmed the patch installation.
*System notice: This modification is well beyond standard simulation limitations!
"Ohh, I'm sure it is buddy." He chuckles as the next screen begins to load.
*Are you sure you wish to proceed?*
*Yes!*
**\[Custom Subroutine Accepted — LHOC Active.]**
He quickly closes the simulation before fully testing it and begins to download the script to the hard drive, making sure he saved the script in a **new folder** careful not to overwrite anything Marigold may have had hidden on it.
Then he leaned back in the cockpit, heart racing. ..It worked.
He hadn't just adapted.
He *Evolved* and made the system *his*.
Kael cracked open the canopy and dropped to the floor.. As he slid around the corner toward the barracks hall, the hairs on his neck rose.
There, halfway down the corridor, stood an instructor backlit by a wall terminal, the man looked like a ghost caught in data-glow.
"…Midnight jog, Mr.Halloway?" the instructor asked coolly.
Kael froze, trying to gauge if running would make it worse.
"…Just, working on my Rights and Lefts, Sir."
The instructor chuckled, the stared a moment longer than was comfortable, then returned his eyes to the screen.
"return to your quarters …And sleep fast. You'll need it."
Kael nodded and slipped back into the dorm with his pulse thudding in his ears.
He didn't sleep.
But tomorrow… tomorrow he'd *fight like himself*.
---
### **Part 3: The Mirror Phantom**
The next morning came too fast.
Kael didn't remember falling asleep, but his body knew. Every joint ached like it'd been welded shut, and his eyes were dry from too many hours in front of a terminal screen.
He barely had time to throw on his uniform before the alarms rang.
**Simulation Day.**
Across the training barracks, boots hit floors and voices barked half-slept curses as cadets scrambled to suit up. Today's battle sim wasn't just practice—it was evaluation. Performance in this exercise would be reviewed by **command officers** for squad assignments.
*No pressure,* Kael thought grimly.
---
The briefing room was crowded with trainees. A large holographic screen flickered to life, displaying the mission parameters.
After about 2 hours of watching other conducts compete on the large monitor in the middle of the room, it was finally time for kale to step up to one of the simulation cockpits and show everyone what he could really do.
>**"Simulation: Sector Omega Drift"**
> **Mode:** 3v3v3 Mecha Engagement
> **Objective:** Eliminate opposing teams or secure the central relay tower for 5 minutes.
> **Suit Models:** Standard LEO Frame Simulators
> **Loadout:** One beam saber, one shield, one mid-range rifle
> **Time Limit:** 12 Minutes
> **Scoring:** Survival, Accuracy, Tactical Command, Sync Rating
Kael's eyes flicked toward the corner of the screen.
**Pilot: Kael Galloway.. Team Designation: Red team- pod 3!**
His teammates: **Benton Kyre** and **Malik Thorney**, ..Both loud-mouthed, right-handed, and entirely unimpressed with their quiet third wheel.
"Try not to get your wires crossed, *farmboy*," Benton muttered while crossing his arms. "This ain't a plow-pit... do try not to drive around in circles!"
Kael ignored him.. Honestly, he expected at least one of them to make a comment.. asthma this point, He was used to it.
But what they didn't know was.. that last night… he'd already rewritten his own fate.
Inside the simulator pod, Kael plugged in his flash drive again. The system paused—processing—then blinked green. *Accepted*.
The interface flickered once, then reconfigured itself.
**LH-OC Protocol Active.**
The controls felt different immediately. Not just in layout, but in *balance*.. The motion feeds responded like a finely tuned gearbox as the adjustments completed.
His **left hand** now controlled the **auxiliary maneuver thrusters** and **beam saber**. His **right hand** was assigned **shield deployment** and **targeting systems**.
It was backwards to anyone else. But to Kael.. it felt complete, for now it was finally *his* time to show everyone what he was capable of.
An old reflex surged up from the pit of his spine.
**Muscle memory clicked into place.**
"*Heh, Just like piloting the GM back on the farm,*" he thought, settling into the cockpit seat like a second skin. *Only now, I've got weapons!*
### \[SIMULATION ENGAGED – TIMER: 12:00 MINUTES]
As the virtual launch bay opened, and Kael's Leo suit dropped into the simulated battlefield, he immediately felt as if he was truly fighting for the first time since his recruitment.
Wreckage floated through the Omega Drift sector like steel ghosts. The central relay tower spun slowly in zero-G, flanked by debris clouds and hollowed-out ship hulls.
Blue Team moved fast, pushing toward the tower in formation. Green Team fanned out, running flanks with cover fire. Red Team—Kael's team—was already out of sync.
> Malik charged ahead, heading for the towers without waiting for his teammates or planning any kind of formation...
> Benton on the other hand, lagged behind.. barking commands no one wanted to listen to...
> And Kael.. didn't answer. He just turned off his comm, and moved as far away from the two of them as he could, while trying not to get spotted by the enemies.
To Kael, the LH-OC responded like a second skin. His left hand danced across the haptic triggers, guiding the Leo with precision that startled even him. While the others blasted and stumbled through the wreckage, Kael weaved through cover with eerie smoothness.
It wasn't long before a *Blue Leo* cut in front of him.
Immediately, Kael feinted a shot, boosted sideways, then **mirrored** the enemy's dodge movement *perfectly.*
In that instance, He *became* his opponent's shadow.
Within seconds Kael holstered his machine gun on his back, then swung his beam saber, hitting his opponent twice.
Once upwards, cutting off the shield arm of his opponent.. before the next cut cleaved their enemies torso clean in half.
[BLUE-02 ELIMINATED]
In the control tower above the simulation room, an older officer leaned forward to check his monitor.. adjusting the replay feed.
"Oxford.., Who's piloting Red-3?" the man spoke softly.
The junior tech squinted. "Hmm.. A nwer recruit sir, name; Kael Halloway, sir. Looks to be a Farm recruit. ... And it says here he's Left-handed."
"…Well I'll be damned," the officer said, rubbing his jaw. "That's the same cadet I saw last night.. I wondered what he was up to?"
After defeating the blue opponent, Kael spead off to intercepted two members of Green Team ambushers heading towards Benton.
Mid-boost Kael flipped, spun backward through cover, and clipped the first opponent's rifle before they even locked on.. With has been rifle already equipped in his shield hand, he fired lasting a hole straight through the head of the enemies Leo.
[GREEN-02 ELIMINATED]
"One more!" he shouted as he boosted forward, *saber drawn* and aimed at his enemies torso.
The beam flared violet as it pierced clean through there chest, followed by a clean arc across the right side as he cleaved his way through the enemy Leo's chest.
[GREEN-01 ELIMINATED]
The automated announcement didn't even finish before Kael was gone.. vanishing into the debris like a ghost echoing his opponent's last movement.
That's when someone watching whispered:
> "dude that was insane.. He fights like he's *already seen the battlefield.*"
> "I know, compared to everyone else it's like *watching a demon* fight!"
---
### **Part 4: The Demon and the Tower**
The mock Leo's cockpit hummed around Kael as the red light of the HUD flickered against his visor... Instinctively Kael flipped the **comms switch back on**.
At first static hissed, ..then gave way to a wave of shouts.
> "Red team No.1, Benton come in! ..this is Malik! I'm at the tower, requesting immediate backup!"
> "Blue's got two bogeys pressing me from the left tier! I repeat, need someone on my six! Benton, you there?!"
> *.. I'm on my way!* Kael thought grimly.
Without responding, Kael thumbed the thruster control and rocketed forward.
The exhaust from his boosters scorched the air as he shot through a ruined warship and leapt clear over a half-collapsed overpass.
> Malik: "Dammit.. where the hell are you Benton!"
> "Don't worry.. I've got this!" Kael said sharply, cutting into the line.
> "You —what?!" Malik exclaimed.
> "Just keep your shield up and duck in 4 seconds. ..I'm coming from behind!"
Malik's voice hesitated, but instinct won.
> "Copy that! ... Wait, Who *is*—?"
As Kael's Leo came **screaming down from above**, saber blazing with an electric hue, its heat shimmer warping the air around it. He *plunged* into the first blue unit with a diagonal slash that bisected it from shoulder to hip.
> **\[BLUE 03 — ELIMINATED]**
The second blue turned, firing wildly. Kael's left-hand thrusters ignited in a snap spin, propelling him to the side—his shield, mounted to his *right arm*, soaked the burst of plasma rounds.
> "Where the hell did you—?"
> "Focus!" Kael barked.
Malik dodged right, freed up. Kael closed the gap again, saber arcing once—twice—blindingly fast. The blue pilot didn't even have time to eject.
> **\[BLUE 01 — ELIMINATED]**
Breathing hard, Malik stared at the unit standing between him and the tower now.
The **Leo's left arm held the saber**—its stance reversed from standard federation protocol.
> "…Wait. You're Leo's *left-handed!?*"
The red-tinted visor of Kael's unit turned slightly in his direction. No reply—just a low hum as Kael advanced up the tower incline.
"Who, no.. what the hell *are* you…?"
" Just a Farm boy," Kael muttered under his breath, comms muted. "..Who's willing to *Fix* what others won't!
The final enemy fire exchange in the distance flared like a dying star. Benton's signal went red—eliminated. Green 03 blinked out alongside him.
> **\[REDS HAVE RECLAIMED THE TOWER]**
Simulation systems powered down. The screen dimmed to black, then flashed the final score:
> **Red Team Victory**
> Units Remaining: 2
> MVP: **Red 03 — K. Halloway**
In the observation booth above, the instructors stood still.
Then came the murmurs.
> "Yoo, did you see that, red 3 IS a Demon.. He fights like he's actually the Leo itself!"
> "..And the way he moves, ..it was like watching a *ghost* pop in and out of a *mirror*!"
---
Part 5: The Briefing Room
The sim pods hissed open one by one, the cockpit lights dying down as Red Team stepped onto the deck. Malik yanked off his helmet and clapped Kael on the shoulder so hard it rattled his teeth.
"Bro, how the hell where you able to move like that out there!?" Malik was grinning ear to ear, sweat still slick on his forehead. "You where like some kind of shadow or a phantom.. no, not a phantom. A Demon... A mirror demon!" He laughed loud enough for the rest of the trainees to hear. "That's you're callsign now, Halloway. *The Mirror Demon.*" he laugh ecstatically.
Kael shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Not exactly the nickname I'd have picked... but I guess it fits."
Before the laughter could settle, a figure from Blue Team stormed forward, helmet tucked under his arm. His jaw was set, voice sharp.
"You cheated." They exclaimed.
The word cracked through the hangar, and conversations around them went silent.
"You really think nobody noticed?" the pilot spat, stepping closer. "I've been doing this training for over a year now, I know for a fact that didn't just swap shield and saber..You rewrote the whole OS calibration didn't you!"
Silence falls on the room until he continues to say, "Admit it!.. That Leo of yours had modified boost output, drift responsiveness, plus balance and mobility timing. You didn't win because you're a skilled pilot *farm boy*, that was pure hacking."
The old insult dug in, but Kael didn't flinch. He met the man's glare evenly.
Kale laugh hysterically and then said, "Funny..," his voice steady but sharp.
"All I heard these last few weeks **was adapt or die**." He let the silence hang for a beat. "All I did was adapt my way, And because of that.. it wasn't me who died this time.. Was It!"
Snickers rippled from nearby cadets from all 3 teams. The Blue pilot's face reddened, but before he could retort, the sound of boots on steel snapped every head toward the stairwell.
A column of officers descended—four generals in crisp uniforms, a handful of aides, and behind them, the tall silhouette of Lt. Commander Randel Oxford.
"Red Team, you're wanted in the briefing room" one of the generals barked. "Come with us. Now!!"
Malik muttered under his breath, " Ohh shit.. Mirror Demon might have just got usus court-martialed."
"Shut up and walk." Benton hissed.
---
The briefing room was tight, sterile, and too bright. Screens replayed fragments of the battle on endless loop. Kael and his teammates stood stiff as the officers arrayed themselves on the far side of the table.
"Cadet Halloway," one of the generals said. "You modified the operating system of a Federation simulator. Do you deny it?"
Kael kept his voice level. "No, sir. I improved it."
Another officer leaned forward. "Don't act so coy boy, You are making it sound like this was a trivial task!.. do you not realize that you wrote wasn't just a mere control swap on a video Game..
It may have been slightly outdated but that script was a functioning Gundam OS, One that was once used in active battlefields.
Do you understand what that means? You didn't just cheat a game... You rewrote yh official code that underpins our real Mobile Suits."
A different general.. older, and scarred across the cheek snorted. "It was impressive work, though... I've seen veterans take months to balance thruster lag that cleanly—"
"Enough Edison!" another snapped, silencing him with a glare.
Lieutenant Commander Oxford's eyes narrowed slightly. "Cadet, I'm sure you're aware at this point that I am the one that caught you sneaking out of your bunker last night... But that issue is for another matter.
As of now I want to know,.. *How long did it take you to create this Network of Subroutines*?"
Kael exhaled. "Approximately four and a half hours, sir."
"And what All exactly did you alter?"
Kael straightened, rattling it off like a report: "as you can all see I swapped the primary controls, from right to left allowing me to swap the designated placement of my weapons and shieldl. I also adjusted shield deployment as a priority to interrupt close range and long range strike commands.. I recalibrated the Boost Thruster timing, and fuel output consumption, with a balance curve for inertia drifting... I Rewrote stable and mobile placement calibration to smooth lateral slide Well strafing, dodging, and boosting.. I also pre-assigned Melee as a left-handed actuation, and mocked the eclipse rifle command to both the left and right side for ambidextrous aiming support."
A silence followed. One of the generals raised his brows.
The older general with the scar across his face began to laugh before saying, "Well I must admit that's pretty damn impressive boy.. normally this would be seen as an act of treason but you have managed to peak my interest, So I'll cut you a deal.. sell me this technology and we will continue to allow you to work within the Earth defense force federation!, otherwise this will be seen as an act of treason and you will be executed for this breach of information.
Kael blinked. "With all do respect Sir,
..I wasn't ever intending to sell this information I simply wanted to win and prove myself to the rest of the cadets... However with this being said I'll gladly trade you*This OS* rather than receiving payment for it." He says as he pulls a flash chip out from one of his pockets.
The room stiffened. "Trade it? For what?"
Kael didn't hesitate. "I want a Wing Gundam, and the license i need to prove myself as it's pilot."
The officers glanced at each other, the tension like static in the air. They sat there whispering amongst each other for at least 10 minutes before finally, the director spoke up.
"Then it's agreed, *CADET KALE HOLLOWAY* You will have to wait a Minimum of eight months before another Wing frame can be assembled and cleared. Until then, you'll be required to train every other left-handed pilot we have, in both your LHOC override system and an updated standard OS... So far we have Fourteen left handed cadets across multiple bases...
You Will be expected to refine your code as you go for both systems, and every improvement is reported back into Federation hands immediately." He takes a moment to pause before looking back at Kael and saying "Do you agree to these terms?"
Kael's chest tightened. Eight months felt like a lifetime.. but the offer was real, And he wasn't about to let it pass him by.
"Yes, sir!" he said. "I will gladly accept!"
"Good," the director said. "..then from this point on you are now officially Federation Property.. And so is your LHOC."
Kael stood tall, pulse steady. For the first time since the draft, he didn't feel like he was losing something. ..He felt like he was building it.