"All Londo Bell Mobile Suit assets - be advised: the nuclear missiles are ineffective, repeat, the nuclear missiles are ineffective! Objective Axis is still active and is making planet fall! Plan B, we have to guide the fleet right into Axis, push-push-push!"

I could still remember them. A wave of hopelessness washed over me when I saw our entire fleet's worth of nuclear weapons were just destroyed, just like that - with minimal efforts no less. A Myriad of pink and purple colored explosions temporarily blinding us from the battlefield ahead. Even with Captain Bright Noa's ingenuity, we've only managed to deliver one successful missile strike towards the large falling object that was speeding itself towards the Earth's surface, and even that was achieved with already lots of compromise and sacrifice from the main vanguard fleet currently standing on their last legs fighting a war of attrition against the Neo Zeon forces up ahead.

But with the missile strikes unsuccessful, there was only one other way for us to deliver the blow and stop the abandoned asteroid base from impacting the Earth, and that was to destroy it from within. Our forces were to hit the enemy formation with everything we've got, literally, while the main fleet sends multiple saboteurs to plan charged explosives manually within the strategic positions of our objective. No sacrifice too great, at this point, we're all expendable. I could till feel them all, the fear and anxiety I've felt, the sweat that ran down my forehead inside my helmet, the abnormally-paced breathing of mine, and the vibration within the cockpit of my RGM-89 Jegan when I pressed my feet against the pedal.

"Mobius Squadron!" A single bark from within the helmet's built-in earpiece that was connected to the suit's communications system snapped me from whatever I was preoccupied with. To my left, I can see a single Jegan colored in the Londo Bell's marine green finish speeding forward to lead the charge. My flight lead, with his voice slightly distorted with all of the interference from the unevenly spread Minovsky Particles. "Advance! I want good speed and good dispersion! If you think you've bit more than you can chew, then back off immediately! Signal one of our guys for help and we'll cover! Mobius Three, I don't want to see you lagging behind, too late for you to chicken out now!"

As all of my fellow squadron members rogered the objective with a resounding war cry, I was left flinching a bit at his last remark. Not my first battle, nor first encounter ever with the Neo Zeons, but a battle at this scale was certainly new during my time. I found myself dumbly only tapping the mic twice that was located on the lower left hand portion of my helmet to give a confirmation as silent response. With the rest of the squadron, and several other Mobile Suit wings from the fleet, we accelerated towards the battlegrounds that was the outer orbit of Axis. But even from that distance, I can still see the Neo Zeon forces was ready to greet ours with the same amount of anticipation and retaliation to defend their weapon of mass destruction.

A multitude of non-friendly blips emerged from the radar as we got ourselves in range with the enemy, with the number on the distance tracker going smaller and smaller with each second passed. There was only silence between all the pilots, no one dared to speak a word, with the only semblance of noise was the high pitched rumble from our thrusters as we flew past the carnage that was done by and to the vanguard fleet. Multiple debris, rock matters, and the destroyed superstructure of Clop-class cruisers hung within the empty space, with corpses still floating up and about, and wreckage of Mobile Suits dead on the water both from the Londo Bell and the Neo Zeon, the scene was almost haunting. Almost.

It probably would if it wasn't for our minds too focused for the upcoming engagement.

And it was at that moment, I remember our main fleet deciding to take the initiative by launching a salvo from our ships' main Beam Cannons towards the enemy formation. Several thick, beam lines flew past our forces, harmlessly speeding and seemingly disappearing into nothingness for a few seconds until a few explosions erupted from the distance, most likely from the general location of the enemy fleet. And from there, there was just chaos. The Neo Zeons bit back with as much ferocity as our own volley of fire, welcoming our assault forces with a barrage of beam fire from their own, from there onward, all the formations are broken.

"Squadron, break, break!" Our flight lead commanded as his Jegan also swerved left and right to dodge the incoming fire. "Two and Four, cover my rear! Three, you watch our flanks, make sure no one gets through the formation!"

We didn't even have the chance to reply back, as our body went into autopilot and our Mobile Suits followed suit, followed suit.

"Shields up guys, I've got tally of multiple Dogas!" I heard one of our friendlies cried out from the radio. "Bearings are... two-seven-zero!"

Everything went into a blur at that point. Literally. My squadron just turned to face towards the bearing given by the other squadron member, our shields were raised, expecting an assault. And an assault we did get. Several bursts of beam machine gun fire slammed hard against our shields, making our squadron's Mobile Suits to recoil back from the force that was produced from the beam fire. My payback, however, was pretty quick, as I can still remember my right hand keying the flight stick and pressed the trigger when the targeting system landed a soft lock on the supposed location of incoming fire. My Jegan's beam rifle unleashed a few rounds of volatile pink beams itself, and this prompted the other squadron members to do the same.

I could see them with my own eyes. Several squadron of forest-green AMS-119 Geara Dogas boosting their way through all the debris, their beam beam axes primed and active, and we were ready to return the gesture to them.

Months of training, months of simulations, months of preparations, all of those things were thrown out of the window. We were no longer moving 'by the books', no longer following the orders of a flight instructor, it was purely based on our instincts to survive that our hands moved to activate our beam sabers and swung them wildly, like uncontrolled savages. Truly, it was the definition of 'a battle of attrition'. Two sides duking it out on each other, no more strategic movement, no more coordinated attack moves or all that crap. Just pure, unmanageable violence between two sides. We were getting desperate. They were getting desperate, it was do or die.

And thus, metal met metal, and beam clashed with beam.

I was blinded by my own senses, swiping and slashing at random, firing my beam rifle with every soft lock that didn't indicate even a guise of accuracy. It was only by a cry of absolute horror, that managed to snap me out of my stupor.

On the corner of the communications screen, where the image display of my squadron members were shown, I could see that his surroundings were flashing red, with smoke and flame slowly making its way to his cockpit's interior, and the alarms inside blaring loudly and repeatedly, warning the pilot of extensive damage. "Shit, shit shit, this is Two!" He practically screamed into the screen, whilst also trying to assess his damage. "Mobius Two, I'm hit by the coolant tanks, and the reactor's going haywire! I'm code MAYDAY, repeat code MAYDAY!"

"Four here! I can confirm visual damage, get the fuck outta there, Two! Eject, eject!"

"No, no, I can make it! I can still make it back to the-" His words were cut short when I could see a thin cyan beam pierced through the upper left hand corner of his screen before puncturing and melting his whole torso in the process. A mixture of meat, bones, blood and melted steel splattered on the screen for a few seconds before a loud explosion occurred, followed by his Jegan being engulfed by multiple electrical sparks and then exploding due to the stress and overheat from the main fusion reactor, its aftermath produced a large, contained, purple colored ball of flame that I could see clearly if I just nudge my head slightly to my right. His face disappeared completely from our comms, and was simply replaced with the big letters, all written in red-colored capitals 'SIGNAL LOST' as his IFF signal also disappeared from our screen.

I went back into hyperventilating as all of my vision went red, my feet slamming down the throttle of my own Jegan, taking me to the nearest Geara Doga that was harassing our forces, ignoring all of the G-Force that was created from my sudden burst of speed. Rage, anguish, and despair all but took control, but I can still see my Jegan's right hand being raised, before balling itself into a fist and finally come smashing down to the head unit of the Neo Zeon Mobile Suit, shattering its pink-colored mono eye optics and bending whatever metal or steel that protected it. The beam saber on my left hand was still active, and with a simple push on the flight stick, I thrust the saber right towards the chest area of said Doga. It made a loud shriek when my beam made contact and tried to pierce through the hardened steel of the cockpit, but it was met with little resistance after the initial contact, the beam went through, and pierced through the other side of the unit - right through the backpack. Still not satisfied, I yanked my beam saber to the side to pull it out of the Doga's now inactive body, effectively slicing the whole thing in two.

And I didn't even realize a shout for help from my other squadron member, Mobius Four, his visual communication channel showing what seemed to be oxygen being sucked from a hole inside his cockpit and his own helmet having a very worrying sized crack on it.

"Th-this... this is Four, ah fuck! I'm not gonna make it!" Yelped the pilot, dread lacing all over his voice. "I've got multiple... multiple hull breaches on my cockpit, oxygen's running thin-" He continued to gasp with every syllable. "Be advised, all units! I've- I've got multiple... visuals confirmations of... remote weapons! I repeat, they're funnels, get out... GET OUTTA HERE NOW-"

A few more beam crossed through the screen, slicing open the cockpit and the pilot inside it, what followed was the brutally mutilated corpse of Mobius Four being sucked out into space through the now gaping hole that was created from the beams. The screen went black soon after, and the words 'SIGNAL LOST' took its place as his IFF also went dead.

I almost puked. Or maybe I even literally puked, even my brain seemingly disconnected itself from all form of reason and logic after imagery. Every object around me seemed to warp and distort themselves, I can feel my throat gasping and desperately screaming at nothingness as I began to fire randomly at everything and everyone. Friend or foe, Mobile Suits or just debris, I expended all of my beam rifle's energy to just fend for my life. I was just... going overdrive straight into insanity and blood lust.

And again, I didn't even realize when my flight lead was basically roaring to get myself back into reality. "Three! Get your ass back here now! You're straying too far to the enemy's-" An explosion sounded off on his Jegan, with shards of shrapnel puncturing the inside of his cockpit and piercing right through his normal suit. "Argh, shit! Mobius One, I'm hit, I'm hit! Funnels are, this guy is-!"

And the rest went into static, his death came swift as more thin lines of beams managed to breach the Jegan's defenses and sending the fusion reactor into a meltdown, his Jegan was torn inside out from the force created from the overloaded reactor. And right there and then, I froze. All of my team gone, no one to depend on, no one to turn to, with no battery charge left on my beam rifle and saber, and I've strayed to far into the front lines, my eyes just widened with welled up tears from the shock rather than sadness or rather anything else, really. My hands and feet just stopped, and my mind seemingly stopped processing all information, if there was anything left. It was then my turn to hear multiple alarms sounding off inside my cockpit.

When I whipped my Jegan around, I saw an eyeful of forest-green mono-eyed Mobile Suit, swinging its beam sword-axe in full force, the only kind of pathetic response I did was a simple jab from my Jegan's still functioning shield to meet the Neo Zeon unit's head camera, smashing in the tip of the shield, his attempt to cut me in half didn't stop there, as it sliced off my Jegan's dominant arm like a hot knife through butter, the steel gave away from the sheer amount of force he'd put into the strike, and he didn't stop there. He began to thrust at my main camera, slashed off my legs and thrusters, before going in for the kill by preparing to directly pierce my cockpit.

And then everything just... everything just...

The flames of hatred scorch the skies... Igniting Gaia's funeral pyre.

But here I am. Still standing, still breathing... still living. Just sitting on a cockpit of a new shiny Mobile Suit with a new rank. It's funny that it almost feels like a cruel joke.

I'd expected to be stranded in space, left for dead, and even then when I lived through the whole ordeal, I was prepared to be shunned, then wheeled in for a court martial for direct disobeying orders, and maybe even insubordination for almost shooting a friendly unit, then, I don't know, maybe dishonorably discharged or sentenced to a firing squad. But no. What I got was a wave of pats in the back, some cheers for a 'job well done', as it turns out, we did stop Axis from falling, but it wasn't from my efforts. And the bigger irony is that, for only surviving and acting like an absolute madman on the battle, I was promoted. Second lieutenant, chosen to lead and carry the name of my old squad, and be given two additional members, and a new service Mobile Suit to boot.

And then, it's back on the saddle with me, an emotionally compromised guy with the Federation's new high-performance Anti-Ship Mobile Suit, the Stark Jegan. With the rewards that I didn't deserve to earn.

I hope I am only writing this for the sake of being edgy. Seems like a sap story for your typical run-of-the mill badass veteran. But sadly, I'm not.

"Hey, uh, Lieutenant, are we ready to do a comms check, yet?" The voice coming in from the visual and audio communications channel on the Stark Jegan's console stops my train of thought, I refocus my eyes to see my two other members, Mobius Two and Three; Daryl Dodge and Howard Mason, two airmen only recently entering service on the 5th Lunarian Fleet. Green, the both of them, confident and optimistic, maybe even a little bit too much, and they're even older than me, but still - green. The one that just spoke is Daryl, an African-American man that's... huh, honestly, I haven't really interacted with him much. All I know is that he's pretty good friends with Howard.

Then came the both of the RGM-89D Jegan D-Types on my panoramic camera, their TAC-Names and call signs flashing and pinging back on my IFF signal transmitter, despite the Minovsky Particles that were recently spread over our Area of Operation. The two of such Jegans are also colored on the same finish as mine, a more subdued Londo Bell marine green, their bright blue, compound optical sensors occasionally flash towards my general direction, their newly updated thrusters leaving behind a trail of blue flames as they speed towards our objective. Lighter, faster, and arguably better than the Jegan that preceded them, but I'm not the one to judge.

Howard's voice next comes out from the mic with some little interference, his Jegan flying pass by mine as his message comes through. "Lay off 'im, Two. Little dude is having his twenty-third birthday today, don't want to put him in a bad mood, right?" Underneath the helmet, I can see him smirking widely from ear to ear.

I shake my head. "Suck a cock, Howard," I respond with an off-handed tone, not really meaning anything with that insult. "And stay in formation, else we're gonna lose your comms from all the Minovsky jamming."

Mobius Three lets out a light chuckle, veering back to my left with a steady speed. "See? LT's already using the C-word!"

"I'll pretend that I didn't hear that, Three," Giving a loud sigh, I swipe a few buttons on my unit's control panel to bring up the in-flight briefing data. "Alright you two listen up, I know we've already went by this four times already, but this is a priority one mission, so shut up for a sec."

At that command, my two other wingman's faces turn neutral, possibly steeling themselves from the upcoming information, typical Londo Bell protocol really.

"At 0400 hours, the Mother Harlot received some intel regarding a freighter, that while marked as a civilian transport, is on an unmarked flight course - heading towards Industrial Seven, at a slightly above average cruising speed," I recite what the officer has told us about in the briefing just before we left our Clop-class Cruiser for our sortie. "They're not responding to any of our hails, civilian or military alike - and our ship even fired several warning shots to no avail, so either their audio-visual comms are down, or something fishy is going up. Normally any nearest Federation patrol would handle this kind of bullshit, but High Command is not taking any chances with all of these recent Neo Zeon movements."

Daryl's face can be seen turning sour. "The Sleeves..." He mutters darkly. "I thought we've bagged them already with the end of the war three year ago."

"Your input is appreciated but is not needed at the moment, Two," I remind him with a scowl, I'm really not in the mood to being interrupted right now, he simply nods and gestures at me to continue. "Alright, where was I... yeah, uh- so, our Squadron is the only nearby Londo Bell Interception Wing available and thus, we're to investigate that freighter and report back to Mother Harlot after we've got 'em solid. if all goes well, we'll be back for breakfast and then some before the sun even breaks in this area. I want to remind you two that despite this being listed as a simple patrol and interception mission, I want he both of you to remain caution. Even with all the intel, we're still flying in the dark here. So..." I pause, looking at the two other pilots who are still listening intently to the mission briefing. "Any questions, gentlemen?"

Howard taps his mic once to respond to that query. "Rules of Engagement still on right, Lead?"

I hum positively at his question. "Be advised: R.O.E. still applies on this mission, Squad, thanks for the reminder, Three. As old as the book is, we're still operating under the International Institute of Humanitarian Law, so safeties on until we've received confirmed threats from the objective. Any other question?" Counting down from five, I hear no further questions being asked, so I decide to continue. "Alright, Squad, comms check. Two how copy?"

"Mobius Two, Lima-Charlie, Lieutenant. I've got your transmission five-by-five here."

I nod, receiving the transmission pretty clearly through all the interference. "Three, how copy?"

"No problems on my end over here, Lead. I've also received Two's message Lima-Charlie just now," His Jegan does a thumbs up to prove his point.

I grunt, opting to answer to that with a simple single tap on the mic. But just after that, all of our instruments sound off, picking up a new unknown signal from about a few kilometers away from our position.

"Uhh, this is Three, you guys got that Tally too, right?" Howard checks his sensors again to confirm the newly inputted signal that didn't ping back from our IFF tone just now.

Daryl also does the same, proceeding to key his console and enhance his optical sensors. "This is Two, Tally-Ho confirmed," He mutters with a raised eyebrow. "Strange, we're still several miles away from our objective, but I didn't realize the freighter would be this close."

I bring up my long-range sensors, being an Anti-Ship Mobile Suit, the Stark Jegans are made to be capable to launch its ordnance outside from a ship's cannon range, and for that, we're always equipped with a heightened long-range sensor that could put the normal crates to shame. Something is a bit off, though, this heat signature doesn't seem to be as big and hot as a ship should be. It's only a small blip on the map, and it doesn't look like it's flying away from us. If anything, this blip is flying towards us. Just a few seconds later, my long range optical sensors finally recorded a live visual feed from the approaching object.

A large green Mobile Suit with four armored wings, on its sleeves... an elaborate pattern of Neo-Zeon markings.

"Oh shit-" I don't even get to react, as our position is immediately spiked with hard locks from the enemy with all of our cockpits sounding off from being spiked by the Mobile Suit. "Enemy radar lock, break formation, NOW!"

My two other wing men instantly speed sideways swerving from any incoming attack that may come from the enemy. True enough, I can see the now-confirmed enemy Mobile Suit to open up its quadruple wings to reveal several turret-like weapons inside, that immediately fly over to greet us.

"Enemy remote weapons!" Three report in, I can see the pilot flicking the safety of his weapons off. "I'm closing in! Cover my six!"

My eyes immediately go wide at his decision. "No, Three wait! We don't know what this guy's capable of!"

But the next thing I see, is... like the same from three years ago, multiple green-colored beams flash and fly all over my screen, hitting and cutting through Howard's Jegan with no effort, some bounce off from his shield that coated in anti-beam material, I can hear his panicking voice rising as hot laser punctured through his suit from all sides. Mobius Three tries to retaliate by flipping his Mobile Suit around and firing away his beam rifle twice towards the general direction of incoming fire, but even then, his Jegan's firing arm is severed by a crossing beam fired from the enemy's funnels, and his shield arm also gives away, another beam impacted against the Jegan's head, effectively melting it along with the Mobile Suit's sensors.

"Shit, oh shit, oh fuck! Mobius Three, I'm getting hit from all sides!" Howard cries out with that same amount of dread and terror... like my old squadron members. A few more beams fire at once, to slice off the remaining limbs of his Jegan like it's nothing. It's sickening, it's like his life is being toyed with. "I-I can't eject, Two, help me out here - ARGH-!" His face that is visible on our visual communications channel just... exploded into hot meat paste as his cockpit is finally pierced through from the constant beam fire. His Jegan's reactor finally gives out due to the outside stress and finally resorts itself into an contained purple ball of flame that blinds me.

I find my mouth still hanging from the results. He didn't have the chance to fight back, and his life was just snuffed out in like - seven seconds.

"THREE! No, NO! HOWARD! Fucking bitch, you're DEAD!" I hear Daryl scream in pure rage after seeing his friend's death, his eyes welling with hot tears of anger as he charges over to the enemy Mobile Suit, firing away his beam rifle in the process. The enemy Neo-Zeon unit seems to realize the incoming beam that is being fired blindly, the discharged beams simply pass by the suit harmelessly, missing it by a long shot. It then proceeds to command its funnels to fire off more volleys towards Daryl's Jegan, the first one he manages to avoid by veering left and right, trying to predict the enemy's movement and raising his shield to protect himself.

I begin to hyperventilate as I see my remaining wingman going into a state of disarray. "Two, fall back now! You're flying off to far to the-!"

My cries are stopped when I can see a funnel traveling towards his blind spot before firing off one round that manages to cripple Daryl's beam rifle. The weapon immediately explodes on the Jegan's hand, taking it with the sudden combustion, Daryl, now disarmed is put into the defensive, his shield arm raised to protect his cockpit and he fires off a salvo of sixty millimeter vulcans from the Jegan's head pods. And it's the same like Howard, at this point, he's just being toyed by the enemy. The funnels fire off several more volley of shots that disintegrated his Jegan's shield arm, and then slicing off the remaining of his right arm and then head, before finally one beam heads off to fire at the cockpit.

"No-no-no-no-no-NO!" Mobius Two defiantly yells one last time, and he's silenced by a single beam that cleanly cut through his cockpit, vaporizing the pilot on the spot.

With both of my wing men being shot down in the matter of seconds, my hands instantly tremble, and my breathing once again quickens itself into near hyperventilating, their faces on the visual communications are now replaced with the 'SIGNAL LOST' I've seen one too many times.

Is it just gonna be last time? Am I really destined to die alone by a force much greater than me?

...

Not if I can take this son of a bitch down with me.

"Fucking Sleeves..."

That snarl comes out unconsciously from as my brain goes into overdrive, pumping my muscles with adrenaline. My right hand moves over to push the flight stick forward after doing a quick swipe to select my weapons. My Stark Jegan responds by pulling out the 380mm Anti-Ship Hyper Bazooka from the waist of this Mobile Suit, with the trigger held in, the Jegan propels a single rocket towards the enemy that I've locked on to. Not a few seconds later, I pull the the trigger again to initiate an early detonation from the launched ordnance, spreading over numerous salvo of 60mm clay rounds to coat over a large area.

The Quad-Wing simply moves its wings and thrusters forward to decelerate at the last second, grinding it to a complete halt before pushing it back a few meters, missing the rain of hot blue shells that could pierce even a battleship's hull. This guy, there's no doubt about it. He's a fucking ace. I can feel myself spitting to the side, unsatisfied by the miss, and my left hand fingers shift themselves to flick the safeties off of my Mobile Suit's twin tri-rocket pods. I can hear two audible beeps as the color of the rocket pods' safeties go off from yellow to red, indicating that the warheads inside are armed and ready to be launched. Once I get myself a hard lock, I pull the trigger once again to send off the missiles, along with emptying my Bazooka's magazine in an attempt to overwhelm the enemy through sheer amount of fire.

"Fucking Sleeves...!"

The first three of my rockets speed through the emptiness of space, and on their tails are the rest of the full salvo. Again with the earlier tactic, I detonate some of the missiles early, using the blanketing clay shells to disperse itself all over the area. The green mono-eyes Mobile Suit makes several maneuvers to clear itself from the ensuing explosions. It swerves right, then rolls left, to the right, and left, back, push, and accelerate. Even with that seemingly heavy body, the pilot seems to make his unit simply dance through all the carnage - just easy as that. Once he's clear from all the projectiles, he comes clear into my main camera's view, his wings once again folding out launch the rest of its funnels that is quickly being picked up by my sensors, the numbers are quite big, maybe even within the twenties.

Through that, I come to realization. There is no chance of me leaving this alive. But that's okay.

My right hand then glides over to the central piece of console on my Jegan to make the necessary actions. Punching in several keys on the touch screen, to which they controlled the locking pins of my missile pods, and the limiter release of my thrusters, I can hear several hisses from the Jegan's shoulders as it unlocks the pins that are keeping the missile pods attached to the shoulder, also confirming the shriek of my thrusters going louder and louder after being pumped with more energy from the Mobile Suit's main reactor. With one push on the both of my flight sticks, and more pressure on the thruster pedals, my Jegan throws away all of its now-empty weapons, the missile pods, the Hyper Bazooka, everything that could slow me down except from the extra layer of armor that is on the Jegan.

And with that, accompanied by the high-pitched scream that comes through my engines, I am now blasted forward to conduct close-range-combat with the enemy unit. Even with everything that's sounding off inside my cockpit, the warning of the thruster's output reaching its limit, or the confirmed hard lock from the enemy funnels, or even the massive G-Force that almost blacks my vision out, I simply don't care anymore. But even with this speed, the reaction time of the enemy is still quick enough to launch a few rounds from its funnels towards my Jegan, with a few even impacting upon the outer armor of this unit, that thankfully wasn't enough to completely damage or melt anything crucial.

One swipe on the console, and the Jegan releases a single beam saber tube from its charging station into my Jegan's waiting right hand, I promptly activate the saber violently, with the priming sequence already draining a part of its battery life. The green-colored Neo Zeon Mobile Suit takes this as a challenge to its own, as it also activates its own green-colored saber and accelerates itself towards my charging unit. Both of our units fly through the empty reaches and solace of space ready to smash into each other in dangerous velocity. With the number of the distance counter getting smaller, and seeing an opening, I take the initiative by swinging my saber first at full force by pushing my right flight stick forward, the Neo Zeon Mobile Suit does the same.

The time our sabers make contact with each other, a large, electromagnetic shockwave is produced, forcing us to immediately break engagement from the sheer force coming from the point of impact, I continue to accelerate out from its lunging distance, and once I'm clear, as well as not wanting to give the enemy an opening I immediately slam on the air breaks of the Jegan. The Mobile Suit's frames flare up, revealing some of its flaps underneath. Even made as a high-performance unit, this thirty-ton monster is still slow to response and control. I grit my teeth as more of the G-Force smashes against my body and pinning me to my seat, but this wasn't enough to stop me.

Pushing the pedals again, I quickly gain some momentum to charge over to the approaching green Mobile Suit that mirrors my movement. Using this acceleration, and once again entering CQC range, both of our units whip forward our beam blades at each other, once again producing a large electromagnetic force to be sent out that almost disables the Jegan's sensors from the disruptive power discharged. This prompts me, and the enemy Quad-Wing to once again break our engagement and re-enter our jousting positions. This time, when an alarm blares louder in my cockpit, I know that the mono-eye is taking this initiative, its saber being placed high over its head for an overhead slash.

I drive my own saber by swiping it from the right to the left, trying to parry the incoming attack. The same force is discharged from our blades' impact point, but this time, it's not enough to make us break ourselves from the blade lock. I activate the Jegan's static thrusters to try and give me an opening through a new angle by rolling our suits around, but again, my actions are also mirrored by the enemy, and we both just continue to roll around, our backs facing towards and against the sun multiple times as both sides refuse to break free from this overpowering attempt. With a sudden surge of power, however, I grip on my flight stick harder and push it to the edge of the console.

My Jegan's armored joints creaked in protest from the exertion of force, but it worked, the parry just somehow manages to throw the green-colored mono-eye's saber hand to the side, leaving it wide open.

This is it, you're fucking mine.

I realign my suit's trajectory towards the center piece of the Neo Zeon's torso, and activate my thrusters for a thrusting attack.

But I wasn't expecting the enemy to just open up its wings and fire up all of its thrusters at my unit, the Jegan's screen is immediately distorted from the sudden amount of heat hitting the sensors, and the force produced is enough to knock my saber hand and the rest of the suit's hull out of balance, panicking internally, I raise the Jegan's left hand to shield the armored torso and cockpit of my own Mobile Suit. Once my sensors return however, all I see from the panoramic cockpit's view is an eyeful of thick, green beam, being swung over at force right towards my torso, slicing through the Jegan's left arm, and hitting through the hull of my RGM-89S.

My cockpit is immediately cracked with the sudden impacting force, my consoles melt through, and the sudden amount of shrapnel that enters manage to directly hit my helmeted face, cracking open my helm's glass to the vacuum outside.

And the last thing I know, as my vision slowly goes white, was the condition of my Jegan, being sliced clean, completely in half from the waist downwards.

"...FUCKING SLEEVES!" I scream one last time, and then - everything stops. Everything goes silent. Everything... just... now-I... darkness.

Amidst the blue skies, a link from past to future. The sheltering wings of the protector...

Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn: The Sheltering Wings of the Protector

機動戦士ガンダム UC: ザ·シェルターイング ウイングス オフ ザ·プロテクター

Prologue (rewritten) - RE:0096

プロローグ（書き換え）- RE:0096