Smoke drifted like ghosts through the mangled cockpit.
The battle had ended… but the silence that followed was worse than the gunfire.
Nura's breath came in ragged gasps. His hands trembled on the controls of the broken Scorpio. The machine was barely standing—its armor cracked, limbs sparking, vision filter dimmed. One arm hung limp, the engine growling like a dying animal.
But he had done it.
He survived.
He killed a Gundam.
He…
> "Captain…" he croaked, turning his head behind.
Graven lay slumped in the second seat. Her body unmoving, her head still loosely bandaged from earlier injuries. Her blood had soaked into the seat and was dripping onto the floor.
Her eyes were half-lidded. Still. Silent.
Nura's voice cracked.
> "Captain… we're alive. We… I got one of them. I—"
"I defeated one of the Gundams, you hear that?"
He forced a broken smile.
> "We made it. We actually… we actually—"
Then he stopped.
The color drained from his face.
Her lips were pale. Her chest didn't rise. Her skin—was cold.
> "Cap…tain…?"
His words died in his throat.
No breath. No pulse. No light in her eyes.
Just silence.
Nura froze. His mind buckled. A soundless scream filled his skull.
> "No… no, no, no—CAPTAIN!"
He scrambled toward her, shaking her shoulders, his voice rising with desperation.
> "Wake up! Please wake up! We're not finished yet! I—I still need you to shout at me for being reckless! I still need you to call me an idiot, just one more time!"
Her body didn't respond. Her head lolled with the motion.
A thin stream of blood leaked from the corner of her mouth.
Nura's body stiffened.
> "…she bled out," he whispered.
> "During the fight… while I was too busy… fighting…"
He collapsed into the seat beside her. The warning sirens faded into the background. The cockpit dimmed with the failing power core. And in that dimness, a young man sat in silence beside the body of the woman who led him.
His commanding officer. His mentor. His shield.
Dead.
Gone.
> "I won," he whispered. "But… I lost everything."
Outside the wrecked Scorpio, the battlefield was littered with burning husks of Federation units. The Gundams were gone. The sky was black.
The victory meant nothing.
He should've known.
> "This is what it costs…" he said quietly, tears streaking his dirt-smeared face.
He leaned his forehead gently against Graven's bloodied forehead, eyes closing.
> "I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough…"
Then he getting a flashback of his memories of parents, comrade's and lastly Graven, but all dead. Then the last thing he sees is Gundam. Tristan, Bedivere and Camelot.
> "Gundam...!"
As he crying and bite his lips to bleed.
Then he scream as loud he can inside the cockpit.
> "AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
No voice answered him.
Only the wind… and the fading echoes of war.
---
The fires still burned.
Smoke rolled across the shattered Earth Federation base like low-hanging storm clouds. Distant emergency sirens howled in the dark, but the chaos had dulled, as if the world had fallen into mourning.
Nura stood silently beside the wrecked Scorpio.
He had removed Graven's body from the cockpit himself. He wrapped her in his own jacket—the only thing clean enough to give her dignity. He didn't speak. He didn't cry.
His eyes were hollow.
A makeshift pyre had been formed from the wreckage of three downed mobile suits. Graven lay atop them, wrapped and surrounded by the metal carcasses of war.
Other soldiers had begun to gather around. Not many… just a few. Medics. Survivors. Some bowed their heads. Others simply watched in silence.
Nura struck the igniter.
The fire caught fast.
The flames rose—orange, gold, white—like a phoenix in reverse.
> "I'm sorry but this all i can do for now." Nura muttered. "I hope you can forgive me Captain."
He clenched his fists.
> "I will take revenge for my parents, my comrade and you too, Captain."
The wind blew softly. The fire roared higher.
And Nura stood there, jaw trembling.
> "Goodbye, Captain…"
---
[Camelot Perspective – The Throne Room]
Far away, beyond the Earth, in the throne room of Avalon, Camelot's flagship fortress, a heavy silence hung in the chamber.
The knights stood like statues, lined on both sides of the glowing throne.
Merlin knelt at the steps, head bowed.
Arthur King sat still, his golden cloak cascading behind him like sunlight draped in silk. His face betrayed no emotion.
Bedivere stood in the center of the room, helmet off, head lowered.
He was shaking.
Not with fear.
With fury.
> "I should have protected him…" Bedivere said.
Arthur's voice was calm—too calm.
> "Bors knew the risks. As do we all."
Bedivere's eyes flared. He dropped to one knee, slamming a fist against the marble floor.
> "He was my brother-in-arms. He was my friend! And I failed him!"
The echo of metal rang through the hall.
Merlin lifted his gaze slowly.
> "He died in service of the Grand Order."
> "To be killed by a Federation stray… A rookie," Bedivere spat. "A child!"
Arthur leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on one gloved hand.
> "A child… who defied fate."
Merlin narrowed his eyes. "…He's dangerous, then."
> "No," Arthur corrected. "He is interesting."
Bedivere's head snapped up.
> "Your Majesty—!"
> "Enough."
Arthur's voice cut like a blade.
The room fell silent.
> "You will not allow Bors' death to cloud your judgment. We have more enemies to crush. The Grand Order continues."
He stood, slow and regal, the crown of Camelot shining beneath the ceiling's heavenly lights.
> "We do not mourn like the weak. We endure."
> "For Bors… and for the world we will shape in his name."
Merlin placed a hand to his chest and bowed.
Bedivere stayed on one knee.
But his eyes burned with the need for vengeance.
---
Of course. Here's Chapter 9 Part 2: Funeral Fire — continuing from Nura's emotional breakdown, and switching between his grief and the chilling response from Camelot, especially Arthur King and Bedivere, after the death of Bors.
---
Mobile Suit Gundam: Malaya
Volume 1 – Chapter 9: Funeral Fire
(Dual Perspective – Nura & Camelot)
---
[Nura's POV – Battlefield Wreckage, Scorpio Cockpit]
The fires still burned.
Smoke rolled across the shattered Earth Federation base like low-hanging storm clouds. Distant emergency sirens howled in the dark, but the chaos had dulled, as if the world had fallen into mourning.
Nura stood silently beside the wrecked Scorpio.
He had removed Graven's body from the cockpit himself. He wrapped her in his own jacket—the only thing clean enough to give her dignity. He didn't speak. He didn't cry.
His eyes were hollow.
A makeshift pyre had been formed from the wreckage of three downed mobile suits. Graven lay atop them, wrapped and surrounded by the metal carcasses of war.
Other soldiers had begun to gather around. Not many… just a few. Medics. Survivors. Some bowed their heads. Others simply watched in silence.
Nura struck the igniter.
The fire caught fast.
The flames rose—orange, gold, white—like a phoenix in reverse.
> "She deserved a funeral with flags," Nura muttered. "With honors. With a speech. Not this."
He clenched his fists.
> "She gave her life holding the line. And all she gets is smoke and silence…"
The wind blew softly. The fire roared higher.
And Nura stood there, jaw trembling.
> "Goodbye, Captain…"
---
[Camelot Perspective – The Throne Room]
Far away, beyond the Earth, in the throne room of Avalon, Camelot's flagship fortress, a heavy silence hung in the chamber.
The knights stood like statues, lined on both sides of the glowing throne.
Merlin knelt at the steps, head bowed.
Arthur King sat still, his golden cloak cascading behind him like sunlight draped in silk. His face betrayed no emotion.
Bedivere stood in the center of the room, helmet off, head lowered.
He was shaking.
Not with fear.
With fury.
> "I should have protected him…" Bedivere said.
Arthur's voice was calm—too calm.
> "Bors knew the risks. As do we all."
Bedivere's eyes flared. He dropped to one knee, slamming a fist against the marble floor.
> "He was my brother-in-arms. He was my friend! And I failed him!"
The echo of metal rang through the hall.
Merlin lifted his gaze slowly.
> "He died in service of the Grand Order."
> "To be killed by a Federation stray… A rookie," Bedivere spat. "A child!"
Arthur leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on one gloved hand.
> "A child… who defied fate."
Merlin narrowed his eyes. "…He's dangerous, then."
> "No," Arthur corrected. "He is interesting."
Bedivere's head snapped up.
> "Your Majesty—!"
> "Enough."
Arthur's voice cut like a blade.
The room fell silent.
> "You will not allow Bors' death to cloud your judgment. We have more enemies to crush. The Grand Order continues."
He stood, slow and regal, the crown of Camelot shining beneath the ceiling's heavenly lights.
> "We do not mourn like the weak. We endure."
> "For Bors… and for the world we will shape in his name."
Merlin placed a hand to his chest and bowed.
Bedivere stayed on one knee.
But his eyes burned with the need for vengeance.
---
Arthur King remained seated even after the war council dispersed.
The grand chamber of Avalon dimmed, bathed in the cool twilight glow of distant starlight through the stained crystal ceiling. An eerie stillness hung heavy in the air.
And then—
he snapped his fingers.
A soft metallic chime echoed like a signal through time.
The golden architecture around the throne shifted. Massive gears turned in silence. The marble walls parted like curtains pulled by invisible strings. The floor trembled faintly.
From behind the throne, hidden by centuries of illusion and secrecy, a shadow emerged.
A Gundam.
Towering. Ancient. Sinister.
Its frame was black as a starless void, with etched lines glowing faintly with crimson energy. The armor was scarred and weathered by time. In one hand, it held a rusted sword impaled into the ground like a grave marker. In the center of its chest — where emblems of honor or allegiance were usually placed — was a shining emblem shaped like a celestial starburst, its tips sharp and twisted, giving off a subtle unease, like something holy turned heretical.
> "The child who defies fate, huh..." Arthur murmured, stepping down from the throne.
His boots echoed against the shifting steel, walking closer to the dormant machine.
> "Maybe it was never fate at all."
He stopped at the edge of the platform, eyes locked onto the machine's empty visor.
> "Malaya..."
And in that moment, a faint pulse of red light flickered within the Gundam's chest —
like a single heartbeat.
The chamber fell silent once more.
But the truth had stirred.
And history's greatest taboo had opened its eyes.