The battlefield convulsed with fire as Federation and Zeon forces clashed across the debris-filled void. Explosions flared around the Ananke, the flagship trembling under every impact. Revil held the railing with cold composure while his crew scrambled to hold the line.
The Black Tri-Stars tore through the front with terrifying precision, their Gelgoogs moving as though sharing a single will. Gaia led the charge, Ortega and Mash following in the lethal wedge that once made colonies tremble. Two Federation cruisers vanished in bright, shattering blossoms of flame.
Norris Packard slipped through the chaos like a whisper of steel, firing measured, perfect shots that carved through defensive screens. His Gelgoog moved with a grace born of discipline, each strike deliberate, efficient, fatal.
Revil understood the moment he saw the pattern.
"They're not trying to destroy us," he muttered. "They're pinning us."
A trap. Kycilia's trap. Keep the Federation command locked down while Dozle was forced into a tightening noose on the opposite front. Even surrounded by fire, Revil saw the shape of the strategy far more clearly than the enemy intended.
Another explosion hammered the Ananke. The lights flickered. Officers cried out, but Revil's gaze remained fixed forward.
"They're buying time. For something."
On the left flank, the storm took a different form—Johnny Ridden appeared like a crimson comet, slicing through squads with wild speed and sharper intent. Beam shots cut across the battlefield in merciless streaks. Beside him, Anavel Gato moved with the calm certainty of a man who believed his cause carved into the bones of history itself.
Their path intersected with a single machine thrusting ahead of the White Base.
A GM Custom—painted with the straightforward, utilitarian blue of a commander—but flown with a precision that made Johnny's eyes narrow.
Miyuki Shirogane.
His jaw tightened. His posture straightened. His voice came low, steady, focused—the Miyuki who had spent his whole life pushing forward through nothing but will.
"I won't let either of you reach my ship."
Johnny's smirk widened. "A brave boy. Let's see how long that lasts."
He lunged, a crimson streak cutting across Shirogane's front. Miyuki parried, shield groaning under the pressure as sparks exploded from the impact. Gato came from behind, silent and deadly. Shirogane twisted his thrusters hard, blocking Gato's blade with the last second of momentum.
He didn't panic. He didn't break. He simply calculated, endured, and pushed back—because that was who Miyuki Shirogane was.
"You'll have to get through me," he growled, teeth clenched.
Johnny laughed. "Gladly!"
The three mobile suits spiraled through the void—Johnny attacking like a predator, Gato circling for the precise kill, Miyuki fighting with the raw determination of someone who refused to let the White Base fall even a single meter behind him.
Inside White Base, Bright Noa ordered concentrated fire to support him, though the ship's cannons struggled to track the two Zeon aces. Every impact rocked the hull.
"Hold on, Shirogane!" Bright shouted into the comms.
Miyuki didn't answer. He was too focused—too deep in the precision of survival.
Another shockwave slammed into the Ananke as the Black Tri-Stars regrouped for a second strike. Their thrusters flared. They dove as one.
"General, we can't hold another attack like that!"
"Reactor shielding is compromised!"
Revil stood against the tremors, eyes narrowing with the calm of a man who understood even the worst possibilities.
"Zeon commits everything here," he murmured. "They know what's coming."
His gaze drifted toward the distant flash where Dozle's Big Zam rampaged.
"Dozle Zabi… the jaws are closing."
The Tri-Stars streaked toward the Ananke again. Johnny and Gato pressed Miyuki to his limits. And across the vast, burning battlefield, every thread tightened toward the moment that would decide the fate of Solomon.
The Ananke convulsed again, its frame groaning like a wounded giant as another blast skimmed its armor. Sparks showered across the bridge. Officers shouted to stabilize power, reroute coolant, brace for another assault. But nothing slowed the incoming storm—Black Tri-Stars in perfect formation and Norris Packard weaving between debris like a hunter born in vacuum.
"They're pushing harder," Revil muttered, eyes fixed on the tactical display that showed their left flank collapsing. "Gaia and his men are trying to fracture the command line completely."
Oreki Houtarou stood beside him, arms folded, expression unreadable. Not panicked. Not shaken. Just quietly processing.
"Their pattern… repeats every thirty seconds," Oreki murmured, voice low but sharp. "Tri-Stars rush in, force us to react, then Norris cuts off our counterfire. They're herding us into a predictable defense cycle. If they break the center, the whole formation folds."
Revil didn't even glance at him. He trusted the boy's mind more than he trusted half the admirals he'd served with.
"And our countermeasure?"
"None," Oreki replied bluntly. "Not unless we want to lose three cruisers to punch a hole. They're reading our moves."
A violent impact rocked the Ananke—Gaia's Gelgoog smashing through a Federation screening line, Ortega and Mash flanking him like fangs. A Federation destroyer erupted into flame, breaking in half.
"We'll be crushed at this rate," an officer warned.
Revil exhaled slowly. "We need a miracle. Or reinforcements."
As if summoned by the general's quiet wish, a transmission flared to life.
"Unidentified Federation signature entering the combat zone," a radar technician announced, eyes widening. "Coming in from Luna orbit. Single ship. High-speed trajectory."
Revil's eyebrows rose. "Who launched that? We ordered no reinforcements from Luna Base."
Oreki stared at the display. "Its approach vector… it's reckless. Almost suicidal."
The lone ship burst through the burning edges of the battlefield, hull scorched from atmospheric reentry and long-range thrust. The crew watched as it deployed something—no, someone—from its launch catapult.
Brilliant green thrusters flared.
A heavy silhouette cast a shadow across the void.
Not a GM.
Not a conventional Gundam.
A Full Armor Gundam, layered in reinforced plating, missile racks humming, massive shoulder cannons locking into firing angle the moment the suit stabilized.
Even on the bridge of the Ananke, everyone felt the shift.
"…Who is that pilot?" Revil breathed.
Oreki squinted at the incoming suit, reading its movement, posture, and unmistakable confidence.
"That's not a normal Federation soldier. The way it moves… that's a hunter."
The Black Tri-Stars noticed the arrival instantly. Gaia laughed.
"A new toy? Fine! We'll crush this one too!"
Gaia lunged first, axe raised high. The Full Armor Gundam didn't dodge.
It raised one hand.
A single point-blank hyper-bazooka shot tore Gaia's Gelgoog in half. The explosion lit the battlefield like a miniature sun.
Ortega roared and charged.
Missile pods unlocked. Twelve micro-missiles streaked out and detonated around him. His Gelgoog vanished into fire.
Mash barely had time to scream before the Full Armor Gundam's shoulder cannon discharged. His cockpit disintegrated in the blast.
It had taken—Oreki counted in silence—
"Nine seconds," he whispered.
The bridge was completely silent.
The Full Armor Gundam hovered above the wreckage of all three Black Tri-Stars, smoke curling off its armor, visor glowing like a cold predator surveying prey.
Another transmission crackled through the comm line.
"This is Samus Aran, reporting from Luna Forward Division. I'll be clearing your flank."
Revil blinked. "Samus… Aran?"
Oreki's eyes sharpened. He recognized the name instantly—the pilot rumored to annihilate pirate cells alone, the one who took on entire fleets without backup, the one Federation officers whispered about like a ghost story.
The arrival of a hunter.
Norris Packard, watching from a distance, froze for the first time that battle.
"That movement… no ordinary soldier…" he muttered.
Samus turned, the Full Armor Gundam's thrusters burning bright.
"I'm moving to engage the Elmeth next," she declared. "Your line is open. Push forward before Zeon reorganizes."
On the bridge of the Ananke, Revil allowed himself a small exhale of relief.
"Oreki," he said quietly, "adjust the formation. Prepare to press the advantage."
Oreki nodded, already reshaping the battle in his mind. "This time… Zeon's the one who must adapt."
Samus Aran fired her thrusters again, streaking toward the next fight.
A single reinforcement—but one whose arrival changed the entire war in an instant.