MINUTES BEFORE BARBATOS' ARRIVAL, REACTOR ROOM…

Kudelia never imagined she'd be in a situation like this. She had visited many of the impoverished neighborhoods on Mars, and had seen the suffering of the Martians up-close more than once… but not like this. And even if she wasn't in the middle of the battlefield, the young heiress could still hear the coming from up top, all the way down in the reactor room, even if significantly muffled compared to when she was closer to the surface.

And regardless, there were still plenty of reminders of the fact she was in an active battlefield: several of Serena's soldiers were standing around the room, weapons at the ready, and keeping watch over Kudelia and Fumitan. A few strange machines, shaped like hexagon cylinders standing on four wheeled legs, were also present in the room, off to the side and just out of sight enough. And of course, Argi Mirage himself, sitting on a crate, bouncing one leg incessantly while his eyes stayed glued to the data pad he was carrying, and his shotgun now propped beside him by the barrel.

It had been a good while since they had come down to the reactor room, and since then, all Argi had done was keep in touch with the soldiers outside, relaying orders or taking in reports. Fumitan had seated herself on a corner, sipping from a water bottle from time to time, just like the one Kudelia also had in her grasp, and with which she was fiddling with from time to time, all because of anxiety.

She knew that Gjallarhorn might act against her. Maybe before she took to reading Solomon's words, she might have been ignorant of the danger, but all those nights reading the database gave Kudelia the sense that one way or another, the organization would come knocking for her, and anyone associated with her. It's why she chose to not tell her family where she had gone, after all. Her parents had always been against most of her activism, so she could already imagine their reaction if she told them of her plans to head to Earth alongside two mercenary corporations, one of which was mostly composed of child soldiers.

And now, the situation had escalated beyond even that…

Suddenly, a noise began to echo across the reactor room, one that made all the soldiers inside turn their weapons towards one direction, had Argi reaching for his shotgun and jumping to his feet, and made Kudelia do likewise in fear. Their apprehension, however, turned out to be unwarranted: the noise, as it were, had come from the doors of a service elevator located inside the room, off to one of the sides, opening. And when they did, it revealed a white Mobile Worker that had ridden it down to the reactor, and from which within hopped out a young boy.

One Kudelia knew very well.

"Mikazuki…"

"What are you doing here?" asked Argi, the young man lowering his gun as the boy clambered down from his Mobile Worker and walked up to him, their blue eyes staring into each other with a surprising amount of intensity.

"That thing," said Mikazuki, pointing to the kneeling titan of a machine that took up a significant portion of the room. "Your boss got it ready. I'm going to pilot it."

"What?"

"Why?!"

Kudelia didn't know why she spoke up. Perhaps it was the fact that Mikazuki had almost casually spoken about going back to that battlefield. Maybe it was that he, a boy even younger than Kudelia herself, was about to climb aboard a machine even she knew he probably had no idea how to use, all for the sake of fighting against enemies he had no hope against without the machine. But whatever the case, Kudelia felt something in her chest twist up, and forced the words out of her. And when Argi and Mika turned towards her, they saw the anguish in her expression clear as day… even if only one of them was affected by it.

"Why are you being so calm about this?!" she asked again, stepping closer towards Mika as the boy fully turned to face her. "How can you put your life on the line so easily? Isn't it precious to you?!"

And truth be told, while she expected many answers from the young boy… Kudelia certainly didn't see his actual one coming.

"Of course it is," said Mika, his electric-blue eyes almost seeming to pierce right through the young heiress. "Not just mine, but everyone else's as well."

It was such a short answer, and simple too, but it was spoken with such conviction and resolve, Kudelia found herself caught completely flat-footed by it. Where had all this drive been throughout this week, in Mikazuki's regular days? Was it really all focused exclusively towards fighting, even if with the intent of protecting his friends?

How could someone be so driven… yet at the same time, so directionless?

With his thoughts made clear, Mika turned back towards Argi, and regarded the young man with the same steely gaze he had held until this point. "Can you start it up?"

Argi, in return, simply stared at the younger boy, as if he was trying to size up Mikazuki in some way, before finally giving a curt nod. "Yeah, I can. Come on."

And so, Kudelia watched the two race towards the kneeling Mobile Suit, her hands unknowingly clasping together as she wished– no, prayed that today would not claim another life so cruelly.

-O-

Mika was not used to putting plans together. He'd rather let Orga think up what needed to be done, not because Mika himself was dumb, but because he put more faith in Orga's plans succeeding than his own.

He'd never been wrong to this day, so Mika had no reason to doubt him.

But now, Orga needed help. Even he could see that. So Mika made a decision, then and there, that he would help his oldest friend. And so, he decided to do something he knew Orga himself would have brought up as a plan if it came down to it: he went down to fetch the thing powering their base.

If Gjallarhorn had brought Mobile Suits out to fight, then they should do the same.

Mika and Argi rode the elevator platform all the way up to the Mobile Suit's chest, and while the former sat himself inside the cockpit, the latter took to activating the machine proper, fiddling with its control panel as he booted up its systems and reactor. Argi might not be as properly educated as Volco was regarding Mobile Suits, but his time with Astaroth and all the maintenance work he had done on it had been enough to impress upon him everything that was needed to make the machine go. The only difference between Astaroth and this Gundam (Barbatos, that was its name, Argi idly remembered) was, of course, the Alaya-Vijnana port sticking out from the transplanted seat, which Mika quickly plugged his interface unit into. "You ready?" asked Argi as he finished the last steps of the system boot-up, finger hovering over the activation prompt. In return, Mikazuki merely hummed in agreement, the boy testing his mobily with the port now attached to his spine, before settling himself down onto the cockpit's seat. "Alright… just be ready. Data flow from a Mobile Suit is nothing like a Mobile Worker's. Brace yourself."

And so, not knowing exactly what to expect, but still readying himself regardless, Mika watched Argi tap on the data pad, in turn making the console inside the cockpit light up to life, text quickly cropping up in it.

GUNDAM FRAME TYPE

BARBATOS

ASW-G-08

The next moment, Mika's brain outright exploded.

Pain radiated from the top of his head down to the base of his spine, his muscles spasming violently as he felt the Whiskers on his back heat up like they'd never had before. His lungs felt empty, and yet the boy could barely draw in a breath with his mind so lost in the sheer agony that was the data influx being pumped into it.

Soon, tears began to build up in the corner of his eyes, flowing down his cheeks just as freely as the blood that began pouring out of his nose, right as the corners of his vision began to blacken…

…?

…

And then, it was over.

With a snarl, Mika rocked his body forward, outright forcing it to still, and slammed his hands down against the sides of the main control panel. The boy's tears quickly dried out, even if the blood merely slowed instead of stopping completely, and his vision returned in a flash, letting Mika stare clearly at the BOOT SEQUENCE COMPLETED message now displayed in it, while beside him, Argi stared worriedly at the boy, his hand hovering over the "ABORT START UP" button on the corner of the screen. "Hey, you alright?" asked the mercenary, his metal hand now propped against Mikazuki's shoulder. The boy, in return, took a few slow, deep breaths before finally righting his posture, even as the warmth in his back continued to linger around his AV connector.

"Yes, so let's hurry," replied Augus, his eyes refocusing on the main panel as, quickly and efficiently, he tapped away at the controls, and began to properly bring the Mobile Suit to life. A moment later, and before Argi could reply, the cockpit hatch closed around the young boy, fully sealing him inside the Mobile Suit's torso, right as the young mercenary began barking orders at the soldiers below to ready the elevator to send the Mobile Suit up, leaving Mikazuki alone within the cocoon of a cockpit as he continued to prepare for launch.

Once all the proper start-up commands had been given, Mika sat himself on the transplanted cockpit, and grasped both of the control levers, his hands easily molding around them… as if they had always done so his whole life.

Just like he seemed to just naturally know how to start up the Mobile Suit– …no… how to start up Barbatos.

Mika didn't know how or why this was the case, nor why he suddenly felt an alien sense of familiarity once he had been properly connected to Barbatos… but that didn't matter. Right now, all that mattered was getting to the battlefield.

And as he made Barbatos rise to his full height, and the elevator lifted him towards the exit on the ceiling above, Mika felt the hum of Barbatos' reactor resonate deep within his chest.

-O-

BACK IN THE PRESENT…

Never in all her life did Serena think the sight of a banged-up, incomplete Barbatos would bring her relief. But then again, she had never expected to be tossed into several fights for her life and saving an entire alien planet from annihilation across a span of just a few years, so maybe the ex-Diver didn't have the best basis from which to compare her current situation to.

So, she felt no shame in admitting she outright barked a laugh inside her stolen Graze as she watched the Barbatos pull its mace free from the mangled remains of the enemy MS' torso, the Gundam's movements slow but steady. With her breath still somewhat ragged, Serena fiddled with the controls in the cockpit, until she finally managed to find the tight beam comms, and linked up with the Barbatos, audio only. "Mika, you little rascal, who said you could take that thing out for a spin?" Serena called out, caring very little to keep her excitement off her words.

"Just felt… like a good idea…" came the tired reply from the other side of the line, and immediately, Serena's worry spiked a notch up.

"Oi, you alright, kid?"

"Yeah… just not… used to this… yet…"

And for a moment, Serena wondered why. Sure, Mika had never piloted a Mobile Suit before, but he hadn't suffered anything this bad during his first fight in the anime until the end! He shouldn't have been suffering any backlash so far, especially with how well she had—

… With how well she had tuned it, damn it all...

In her hurry to get Barbatos up to snuff, and knowing of both her lack of parts for it or excuse to acquire them, Serena had focused on the second best thing: having her Haros properly tune Barbatos' OS. This meant its performance would be as close as possible to its original specs, even with the lack of all of its proper parts.

Which meant that Mika was now being pumped with data feedback far more severe than he ever had gone through his entire life, without an acclimation period or "entry level" exposure. That he hadn't keeled over unconscious yet was honestly both a testament of how stubborn the kid was and, honestly, an outright freaking miracle.

It still meant Serena now had to deal with a possible dead weight on the battlefield, while the only competent Gjallarhorn pilot was still fully prepared to fight. "Shit… alright, sit tight there, Mika," she finally replied, her tone steely as she took hold of the Graze's controls once more. "I'll handle this."

"I can still… keep going…" he replied somewhat confidently, but the wooziness in his voice betrayed how badly his first outing in a Mobile Suit was proving to be.

"Mika, stay. That's an order."

"… You don't give me orders. Only Orga does."

"Duly noted," Serena said in return, mildly amused by how much more determined Mika sounded at that moment, before refocusing her attention back to the last Graze still standing: Crank's. Thankfully, the old man had yet to move, which gave Serena at least a few moments to think up a strategy.

Skilled as she was at piloting thanks to all her years in GBN, Serena knew that in a 1v1 against Crank, this wouldn't be a good fight. Already her borrowed (read: hijacked) Graze was marking excess stress on all its servos and joints, a consequence of sub-par maintenance and the high impact maneuvers she had done with it without proper tuning. If she tried to match up with Crank's own Graze, it'd only be a matter of time until her machine gave out trying to keep up with her reaction time and maneuvers.

Plus, as much as she loathed Gjallarhorn, she had nothing against Crank. Was he ignorant? Yes, unfortunately so, but he wasn't a bad person, merely blind to just how corrupt the organization he served truly was. Not to mention that if the old man died, it'd just make Ein go down the same path as before, and that would cause a whole bunch of events that if she could, Serena would rather avoid at all.

The question, then, was how to settle this…

Idly, Serena glanced to the side on the viewscreen to take in the battlefield, and that's when she noticed something that she had completely forgotten about. Something that was lying prone against the ground, from the moment she had stolen its weapon.

And in that moment, a devilish idea formed in her mind.

"Alright, change of plans, Mika," the ex-Diver called aloud once more. "You can help me a bit. You up for it?"

"Sure."

"Bueno. Here's what you're gonna do…"

-O-

There were very few ways things could go anymore wrong in this operation, and Crank did not want to tempt fate to see them.

The majority of their Mobile Worker forces destroyed or incapacitated, uncountable dead soldiers, one Graze destroyed, another immobilized and one stolen, all in an engagement against what should have been an impoverished mercenary company, by all accounts an opponent their forces should have had no issue fighting against.

And now this unknown Mobile Suit had arrived, one capable of totaling a Graze with a single hit, even in an incomplete state. Had the mercenaries planned to lure them in and take out their Mobile Suits all along? The thought of being tricked so thoroughly by guns-for-hire made Crank's frustrations peak, but right now he had no time for that. He had to salvage something out of this insanity, lest Gjallarhorn's honor be tainted even more.

Morris and Orlis were gone, and there was nothing to be done about that… but Ein was still alive. Yes, if he could rescue Ein, and call for a retreat, they could still get something out of this—

Unfortunately, that is when things went decidedly more wrong.

The white suit that, only seconds ago, had stayed completely motionless, suddenly dashed forward with a speed Crank had never seen a Mobile Suit being capable of before, pulling its mace free as it went and charging straight towards him.

"Dammit-!"

Crank barely had time to drop his rifle and raise his ax into a makeshift twin-grip guard before the mace impacted, driving his Graze back several feet and pressing its arm close to its chest. The suit's servos groaned and trembled under the strain, but thankfully they held strong, allowing Crank to stare down the white suit now standing right in front of him, its emerald lenses staring right at his Graze's helmet.

"I don't know where you found a suit like this," Crank growled to the comms, trusting the contact between the suits to carry the signal. "But if you think it can stand against my Graze, you're sorely mistaken!"

With a strained grunt, Crank pushed his Graze forward, firing all boosters and pushing his ax to the side so the mace slid down to the ground, kicking up a large cloud of dust, but leaving him free to fight back, something that Crank quickly capitalized on by swinging his ax up to strike the white Mobile Suit's torso.

The enemy, however, used the mace's new position as a pivot to dodge the blow, its boosters flaring as the white Mobile Suit spun around the mace's hilt to deliver a roundhouse kick, one Crank only barely managed to block with his Graze's free arm, and that still pushed him to the side so violently that Crank almost toppled over.

Acting quickly, Crank spread his Graze's legs enough to counterbalance the kick, then activated his thrusters once more, the suit gliding backwards with the blow enough to give the Gjallarhorn pilot just enough distance that he could properly regain balance and return to a good fighting stance. Rather than pressing the attack, however, the enemy Mobile Suit chose instead to land once more and bring its mace to bear, the large weapon still intact in spite of its apparent worn-down state.

"I don't have to win…" replied a tired, almost bored voice in return through the white suit's loudspeakers. A very young voice, Crank realized as the pit in his stomach grew larger, and his eyes widened. "I only have… to stall you."

And just like that, Crank's blood froze, right as he looked to the side and caught sight of the stolen Graze.

It was no longer standing near the base.

Rather, it was now standing on the open field, rifle once more in hand…

"Yo, old man."

And pointed at Ein's own fallen Graze, now pinned under the stolen Graze's heels.

"Here's how we're gonna do things," called out the woman from within the machine, her tone casual and downright playful as she spoke. "You and the rest of your fellas who aren't dead or dying are going to fuck right off, and leave us alone. If you don't… well."

BANG!

Crank flinched when he saw the rifle discharge, though to his immense relief, the round buried itself not on Ein's cockpit, but instead on the ground next to it.

"I haven't yet seen what a triple-digit round does to a human body, but I'd be happy to find that out with you."

"Damn you…" snarled Crank, his grip on the control levers tightening as he stared at his now-hostage subordinate. His mind raced for a solution to this, anything at all that would allow him to rescue his subordinate, but his thought process was quickly cut off by the sound of the white mobile suit slamming its mace down onto the ground, its optics shining once more as it readied to pounce at any moment. Suddenly, the stolen Graze's speakers crackled to life once more, allowing the woman to speak to him again.

"If it's any consolation to ya, old man, I'll even let ya take the kid with you," she spoke with an insultingly casual tone. "Course, as long as you leave his Mobile Suit behind. And don't try any funny business on the way out, otherwise I might have to make an example out of him. I'm sure you understand."

And though he hated—no, seethed at the idea of conceding… Crank didn't have a choice.

So, with almost physical disgust, Crank lowered his stance, and instead fired a white retreat flare up to the skies. In response to it, the stolen Graze lowered its rifle and stepped away from Ein's prone Mobile Suit, leaving Crank free to approach the fallen machine it had been standing over. And it was under it, and the white Mobile Suit's gaze, that Crank was allowed to eject the cockpit block of Ein's Graze, the old veteran being careful not to jostle it much as turned his Graze around, and dashed away from the mercenary base, what few Mobile Workers were still operational following behind in a disorganized mob.

And so, Crank Zent led one of the most disgraceful retreats of his career.

The mission to retrieve Kudelia Aina Bernstein… had been a failure.

-O-

The end to the conflict, Serena realized, was… eerily quiet.

There were no big shouts of victory, no celebration by the Third Group. The children simply… sagged, and began to fan out to perform post-battle duties: salvage, recovery of the injured, tally of losses, so on and forth. It was grim work, but the kids took to it with a normality that by all accounts, they should not have, but paradoxically did. Serena, however, could not focus on that. Instead, she was sitting inside the Graze's cockpit, trying to slow her breathing and calm her nerves.

She had been through plenty of Gunpla battles in the past, more than most GBN players could lay claim to. Being a part of the game since its beta-testing phase meant plenty of time to get in spats, tournaments, duels and so on, and her career as a data broker meant that more than once Serena had to fight for the intel or package she had been paid to procure.

But this… this was different. It was… ironically enough, too real. The destruction, the carnage, the death, it was all there, around her, just past the walls of the Graze's cockpit.

The existential crisis could wait, however. Right now, Serena had an entire situation to parse through, and a lot of it would be urgent, more so than the blood coating a good part of the cockpit. Starting with the boy who had decided to pilot a Mobile Suit for the very first time, and who could very well be suffering neurological damage.

"Mika, you still up?" asked the ex-Diver, only barely keeping her tone below nervousness as she tried to fiddle with the Graze's tight-beam transmitter. "Talk to me, how you holding up?"

When he didn't immediately reply, Serena worried. When it took even longer, she started panicking. Before Serena could start clawing her way out of the cockpit and towards the Barbatos, however, the transmission finally went through and opened up a video feed, revealing Mika's current state.

It was… bad, but not as bad as Serena had thought. Blood still ran down from his nose and from his blood-shot eyes, but the boy was still conscious, which was better than what she remembered his first outing to have been like in the show. And considering how there were no apparent muscle spasms or lockups, then nerve damage wasn't likely, at least immediately.

"Here…" replied Mika, the boy not even looking up at the screen as he took slow, deliberate breaths. "Tired…"

Serena was not shy with showing her relief at seeing Mika alive, the woman completely sagging against her seat as she let out a long, drawn-out breath, before finally cracking an eye open to stare at the boy with a grin. "Damn, Mika, you spooked me… Alright, I'm coming over to unplug ya. Sit tight, and uh… try not to bleed and/or black-out."

"Yeah… sure…"

With that fear beaten back for the moment, Serena instead took hold of her own radio, and punched in both Liarina and Argi's frequencies. "Argi, status report."

"We're in the clear, everyone's safe," replied the young man with a tone far calmer and more serious than Serena's. "Guess we lucked out, whoever was in charge on Gjallarhorn's side didn't think of sending commandos in."

Thanks for being such a dumbass, Orlis…

"And Kudelia?"

"Still a bit shaken up, but alright."

"Same for me, thanks for asking," piped in Liarina with a huff. "I got Maruba's office locked down, all the belongings and money are still here."

"I take it he didn't appreciate you taking his stuff hostage?"

"Not really, but your soldiers were enough to make him leave without trying anything too… unwise, shall we say."

"Good. If anyone from the First Group tries to get in, tell them off. If they get violent, rough them up," Serena added with a huff as she moved her Graze into a kneeling position. "They're bound to be ticked off about this whole thing, we have to make sure they don't try to bail like Maruba… Speaking of which, where is he? Anyone got eyes on the land whale?"

"SUBJECT MARUBA ARKAY, LAST SEEN DEPARTING PREMISES IN AN UNARMED CIVILIAN VEHICLE," suddenly called out a Mobile Doll through the radio. "DESTINATION LIKELY TO BE CHRYSE CITY."

"Then he's not a problem anymore, good. Jegan, Nemo and Efreet Teams, help the Third Group with their operations. Jesta, link up with Dijeh Team and run cleaning ops on the field, make sure no explosives are left out there. Let's go, people."

And with that, the ex-Diver finally opened the cockpit, letting the slowly warming air of Mars buffet her exposed skin as she climbed out of the Graze, and worked the emergency lift out of its socket. The sand and dust pricked against her skin, but Serena wasn't bothered much by it. It only served as proof that she was still alive, and that was enough for now.

Unfortunately, her new position meant she had a clear, unobstructed view of the torn-up battlefield, littered with wrecked Mobile Workers belonging both to CGS and Gjallarhorn, pieces of them that had been torn or shot off through the fight…

And bodies. Adult and young alike, strewn about with blood either fresh or dried around them. Some were even missing pieces or limbs, violently sliced or torn off by rounds bigger than their entire bodies.

The smell of iron, gunpowder and blood that pervaded seemingly everywhere, even with the Martian winds blowing through the canyon, only made Serena's hands tighten harder, and did little to stop the snarl that tore its way out of her throat, her whole body lighting up in angry red markings, and her eyes slowly bleeding from their natural red into swirling, nebula-like colors.

However, before she could get lost in her own fury, a voice finally echoed into her ears.

[Serena?]

And like a hot knife through butter, Aria's voice cut through the ex-Diver's haze of anger, bringing a semblance of clarity back to her.

"Oh… Hey, Aria…" she replied morosely, hands unclenching as the anger slowly ebbed out of her body, and the many lights across it faded. "Sorry, guess I… forgot to call you back, huh?"

[It's fine,] replied the AI in turn, the only thing betraying her worry being the slight tremble to her tone. [I… I know it's a stupid question, but… are you… are you okay?]

It took quite a while for the question to properly register in Serena's mind. And by the time it did, the ex-Diver realized she was halfway to walking towards Barbatos.

And the answer she had was…

"... I… I don't know…"

Not the one she wished for.

-O-

Headaches weren't something Mika got frequently enough that he'd grown used to them, but right now, he kind of wished he did. It would certainly help with the splitting pain he was feeling right now.

Piloting Barbatos had been nothing like his Mobile Worker at all. During the battle, every move Mika pulled had felt more natural than he ever expected, as if his body and the Mobile Suit's had been connected their entire life. When he wanted to push forward, Barbatos did so without resistance, and when he needed to dodge, block or attack, it was like something was nudging him to take action, showing him how to best perform whatever maneuver he wanted to, even though, again, Mika had never stepped foot into a Mobile Suit before.

But most of all… it had felt good. Right, even.

Mika had never given much thought about things outside of CGS, besides piloting his Mobile Worker and fighting whoever stood in Orga's way, but piloting this Mobile Suit… somehow, he felt like he was always meant to climb aboard Barbatos. Like this was the way he could help Orga the most.

Maybe… he'd do it again, given the chance.

His thought process, however, was interrupted by the sound of the cockpit opening above him, shining the early sun beams right onto his eyes as Barbatos' systems shut off, and his seat was lifted towards the hatch's opening. And to Mika's mild surprise, the one waiting for him atop Barbatos' chest was the same person he knew was responsible for the Mobile Suit's restored state, standing there with a smile and one hand resting on her hip.

Oddly, she didn't seem bothered by the blood streak across her face, but maybe she had gotten used to it after all her work?

"Hey, you didn't pass out," said the horned merc as she leaned over and began tinkering with his Alaya-Vijnana connector. "You doing alright? All the body parts still work?"

"Yeah…" slurred the boy, his head suddenly growing a lot heavier now that the adrenaline spike was going away. "Kinda tired…"

"Heh, figures. Just gimme a sec…"

Even if he wanted to, however, Mika didn't have the strength to move anymore. Instead, he hung like a limp bag of sand against the woman's grasp, until finally, he felt the connector cable and socket be removed, finally allowing the boy to sag in exhaustion against the merc woman's strong and surprisingly steady arms. Still, even in the throes of passing out, Mika stayed conscious enough to ask a question that niggled at the back of his mind.

"… How many…?"

One that he just had to know. And though the woman didn't seem that eager to reply, she still did.

"… Twenty-six from the Third Group, fifty-three from the First Group."

And with his answer given, bitter as it was, Mikazuki finally allowed himself to relax, his body outright melting against the woman's arms as he let her pick him up and pull him out of Barbatos' cockpit, his weight apparently not even registering to the merc leader as she threw him over her back and used a rappel line to lower herself and her new weight back to the ground level, then promptly took off walking back towards the main base, Mika resting softly against her back, until finally, the slow bobbing of her walk and the warmth of the morning eased him to sleep.

"… You did good, kid… I'm sorry…"

But not before those last whispered words reached his ears.

And Mikazuki couldn't help but realize her sadness was the same he himself felt right now.

-O-

As he watched the rest of the Third Group take to work on the battlefield, Orga couldn't help but grimace at the sight.

Things hadn't ended as badly as he expected, even when the Mobile Suits had unexpectedly taken to the field, but the list of casualties was still going to be big. From atop the hill where CGS' base stood, the young man could see the many wrecked Mobile Workers belonging to the Third Group, pick-pocked with holes that had long stopped smoking or smashed apart by Gjallarhorn's artillery, which were now being worked on by whatever kids were still uninjured or injured lightly enough to still be mobile, while at the same time doing the same to the Gjallarhorn machines left in the field. It'd be a good while before everything was cleaned up, the young man knew it, but he still couldn't help but be proud of how stubbornly resilient his friends and comrades could be, even after this shitshow of a battle.

Regardless, Orga still had two major things to worry about: whatever the survivors from the First Group had planned as retribution for his little stunt, and Mika's current state. The first, he'd deal with whenever it came, but Mika was something he wanted to handle as soon as possible. Sending him out in the old Mobile Suit had been something Orga considered from the moment Biscuit had warned him about the Ahab Wave signatures at the edge of the battlefield, as a desperation tactic if nothing else, but not only had Mika beaten him to the punch, but someone else had apparently gotten the same idea at some point, judging by the fact the old Mobile Suit had already been fully prepared and ready to be sortied

The questions that remained, then, were not only who and how, but why. And while Orga already had a good idea for the answer of the first, the second and third still eluded him. But he'd have time to ponder, or outright ask about it, later. Right now, he had to get things under control after the attack, and before the First Group came back.

However, before he could start on either of those tasks, Orga instead was met with another sight, one that made his heart jump all the way up to his throat: the merc leader, blood streaked across her face, carrying an unconscious and equally blood-stricken Mika on her back.

"Hey there, Orga," called out the horned woman with a tired tone of voice, her posture and gait clearly sagged and exhausted. "Glad you made it through the shitshow all safe."

The young man, however, had zero focus for the platitudes, focusing instead on his oldest friend that she was currently carrying. "What happened to Mikazuki?" he asked tersely, looking over the passed out form of his friend looking for any sign of injury. The woman, in turn, put one large hand over his shoulder, and pushed him slightly back, expression still calm.

"Easy, kid, he's fine… mostly. Just backlash from piloting the Mobile Suit. He just needs some rest and a check-up later to make sure there's no hiccups or anything like that." Once she finished, the woman shifted her grasp on Mika, sliding him around her body until he was now in front of her, being held in a bridal carry. "I can run those check-ups myself, if you want. I know a thing or two about Alaya-Vijnana overloads."

Now no longer needing to remain hunched to keep Mika level, the merc leader was allowed to rise to her full height, which led to a situation Orga rarely found himself in.

It was rare that the Third Group's leader found himself in a situation where he was forced to look up to stare at someone's face, and this was one of them. Orga was tall, yes, but the merc was taller, more than anyone he had met before, including some of the burlier members of the First Group. Stronger, too, with enough muscles to her that the young man half expected Akihiro to hound the woman for whatever regimen she used to keep herself in shape. And the horns… Orga wasn't ignorant to body modding, even if it was something only rich folks could afford, but he'd never heard of someone wanting to look like a devil out of their own volition. The red eyes were intimidating enough already, but coupled with everything else… Well, it sure gave the blood on her face a lot more impact.

With his immediate worries regarding Mika's health mostly assuaged, and knowing that from her short time in the base, the merc could be trusted enough to at least keep her word regarding nursing his friend back to full health, Orga relaxed by a few degrees, enough to at least lower his guard around the giant of a woman. "Alright, I'll hold you to that, then," Orga replied, his tone carefully calm as he took a glance of his own at his oldest friend, before returning his attention to the mercenary. "In that case, here's my second question: how was that thing prepped so fast?"

That question landed as he expected, if the minute flinch she tried to hide was any indication. Credit where it was due, she recovered quite fast, instead heaving out a long sigh. "Yeah, figures you'd ask about the big lug, huh…" she muttered tiredly, running one hand past her horns and through her hair. "I found the Mobile Suit while I was walking around the place, checking out for security breaches. And since I'm a huge nut for them, I started poking around on it, tried to fix it up as best I could."

"Without anyone's permission?"

"You really think Maruba would have given it?"

Another dodge, this one more subtle. She was good, Orga had to admit, and that meant he wouldn't be getting an answer to that conundrum anytime soon. Instead, the young man let out a huff, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Okay, last question then: was it your idea for Mika to pilot that thing?" he asked testily, brow furrowing minutely. When he saw confusion cross the woman's face again, he decided to press forward. "Right after you left to steal that Graze, Mika told me he had an idea, that he was gonna pilot that Mobile Suit."

Realization dawned on the woman's face, and in return, she firmly shook her head in denial. "No, I had nothing to do with that. Sure, Mika caught me fixing the Gundam up, but if he chose to pilot it, he did it himself."

Idly, Orga noted that at least now he had a name for the giant machine that had been left to rot inside their base: Gundam. For some reason, Orga felt it fit the white Mobile Suit perfectly, but for the life of him, he didn't know why.

He also wondered why Mika never brought up the fact she had gone down to the reactor room to tinker with the Mobile Suit. It was quite surprising, especially since Mika had never done something like this before. What could have brought that on…?

Well, what was done, was done. They survived, battered and bloodied, but with a lot more of his comrades alive than Orga thought possible in a fight like this, so for now, he was willing to swallow his doubts and take the victory as it had been delivered.

Sadly, whatever discussion they wanted to have past that was cut short by the arrival of something which Orga had been dreading since the moment the battle had ended: a convoy of Mobile Workers belonging to the First Group, not one of them having come out unscathed from the skirmish. A column of battered, injured and downtrodden adults walked beside the convoy, their heads low and their gait uneasy due to their injuries, but even all of that didn't seem enough to stem the sheer anger radiating from Haeda, who walked at the forefront of the mob, and had his eyes locked firmly upon Orga and the woman standing in front of him.

And, of course, he made a beeline towards the two of them.

With a tired sigh, one that sounded even more exhausted than she looked already, the woman took a step closer to Orga and, without any warning, thrust Mika's insensate body into his arms. "Hold him for a second," she said half-tiredly, half-annoyed, seemingly uncaring of Orga's sudden exasperation, before promptly turning on her heels and taking a few steps away from the two, stopping at just the right spot to both get between Haeda and the two Third Group members, and keep the leader of the First Group a fair distance away from them. "What do you want?" she asked in a low and carefully measured tone of voice, eyes boring right into Haeda.

"Out of the way," snarled the man, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the fact he only barely came up to the woman's neck. "I got business with that brat."

"That so? Well, you can talk shop with him later. We got work to do before we catch some sleep, since, you know, we just fought to save your worthless fucking lives."

"Listen here you–!"

However, before he got any further than that, words failed Haeda. Not out of any emotional reason, but rather because a hand suddenly closed itself around his throat like a vice, borderline collapsing his trachea before the man found himself bodily lifted off the ground, gasping for air and clawing at the hand currently strangling him.

The hand belonged, to no surprise, to the merc leader. What was surprising to Orga, however, was that the moment she did, her entire body lit up with incandescent lines, almost like circuitry beneath her skin, and glowing with a magma-like color to them.

"No, you listen here, you piece of shit," snarled the woman, pulling Haeda an inch away from her face, apparently not caring about the other men standing in front of her, even if they were frozen in fear at the sight of their boss being so openly manhandled. "I know exactly what you plan on doing, and I'm making it clear right now, if you touch even a hair on those kids, I will tear your arms out of their sockets and beat you to death with them, got it?"

And then, to everyone's shock rather than surprise, the woman then did the first thing to catch Orga or anyone else completely off-guard…

She outright headbutted Haeda.

Faster than anyone could have tried to stop her, the woman moved the First Group leader once more away from her, before pulling him in once more, at the same time she threw her head forward. Her horns impacted the man's forehead with all the force of a sledgehammer, breaching skin and most likely shattering bone with how brutal the strike was. Being that he was currently being strangled, Haeda had no oxygen left to cry out in pain, but the man did not stay that way for long: the second after she struck, the woman tossed Haeda down to the ground like a bag of sand before turning on her heels and marching away, paying no mind to the stupefied Orga or the panicked shouting and hollering of the First Group survivors as they ran towards their unconscious boss, until she finally disappeared through the doors of the main building.

A moment later, Orga finally realized he should probably take Mikazuki to his room, and so he took off in the same direction as the woman. And as he did so, the young man looked down at his unconscious friend, and smiled sadly at him. "Good job, Mika… thanks for the help."

At the same time, however, a plan began to build inside his head. One that the other children would probably be quite hesitant to support, granted… but it'd still be their best bet for the future, all things considered.

First things first, he needed to get Eugene, Biscuit, Norba and Akihiro together. After that… well, after that, he'd have a word with Mika. Any plan he made, Orga would check in with Mika. And if Mika said no, then that was that. End of discussion.

But Orga had a feeling Mika would say yes.

Because Mika always had his back.

-O-

Meanwhile, with the threat of Gjallarhorn's attack now over, Argi and the other M-Dolls were escorting Kudelia and Fumitan back to the surface, the young man far more relaxed now, even if he still was surrounded by armed soldiers with more armor and firepower than he could feasibly carry. Still, there was little reason to worry about any danger.

Hence why Kudelia felt confident enough to stride forward, and tugged on Argi's sleeve, prompting the young man to stop and turn around to face her. "Yes, Miss Kudelia?" asked Mirage, trying his best to keep his tone polite even as he felt the tiredness of the all-nighter encroaching upon him.

"I'm sorry, mister Argi, but… would you happen to know where Miss Serena would be?" asked the heiress, her free hand opening and closing as she considered her next words carefully. In response, Argi took a moment to ponder the question, before properly answering it.

"I'm… not exactly sure, but I could check. Why?"

"Well…"

-O-

"I wanted to thank her for her help."

As the sun slowly crept up across the sky, a lone delivery truck trudged its way towards CGS' base, carrying within it not only its cargo of food meant for the adults and children of the base, but also three young girls, one of which was clutching a pair of braided bracelets in her hand, a gift meant for someone she held very dear in her heart.

-O-

"I know that… the children of this base are just as responsible for this victory…"

Inside a room far from the noise and bustle of the salvage and rescue operations, inside CGS' living quarters building, a young boy slept soundly, his face now clean of any trace of the blood that had, not long ago, run down freely across it. And indeed, considering the hardships the young boy had just gone through, it was quite a surprise that he could sleep so deeply.

And yet, even in this deep slumber, the young man's mind still drifted towards the battle he had just fought, even if only through his dreams. And in these dreams, thoughts of the old war machine he had piloted to battle continuously floated to their forefront.

Meanwhile, in another secluded corner of the base, a group of some of the older boys from the Third Group underwent an impromptu emergency meeting, one that would soon come to define the future of their erstwhile family.

-O-

"And… it might have had a cost I'm not happy had to be paid…"

Far, far away from the abandoned battlefield, inside the main hangar of a Gjallarhorn military base, a gravely injured young man propped his back against a wall, one fist clenched in fury as he listened to his commanding officer be screamed at by his own CO over their failure to capture Kudelia Aina Bernstein, uncaring of the lives lost in the process.

To Ein Dalton, this was a shameful battle because his comrades had died for nothing, at the hands of children.

To Crank Zent, this was a shameful battle because he had made his men fight children…

And that if we wished to make things right, then he'd have to fight them again.

-O-

"But at the same time… I know this was also because of Serena's hard work."

With a sigh, Serena Durandal cast aside her grimy, sweaty clothes, undressing herself until her body was bare and naked to the world, even if the privacy of the bathroom, plus the two Mobile Dolls standing guard at the door, meant that there was no one to see such a thing. The deed done, Serena tossed the clothes aside to the same corner of the room where she had left her boots at, and ran one hand across her face before preparing to enter the showers–

… There was blood on her hands.

White noise filled Serena's ears, her breathing slowly but surely increasing into panicked heaving as she stared down at the blood on her hands, the blood she knew where it came from, because she had caused it, why was it still there–

She turned her head away, upwards, trying to avert her eyes from it, only to instead be met with the sight of her bloodied face.

There was blood on her face, it was so much, since when was it all there–

-O-

"I know she did her best to keep us all safe."

She stared down the pilot of the Graze, a young man who wasn't Orlis Stenja. Her hand holding the gun lowered slightly at the sight of the shocked man sitting in front of her, eyes wide and mouth agape.

He was a nobody to her. She didn't have any hatred for him, and had never seen him before in the entire IBO canon. He was just… some kid, caught in the middle of this, not unlike Ein. And if she wanted to complete her plan… she'd have to kill him.

Just… just pull the trigger, and… And kill him.

Kill a person. A human being, a living being, just like all the people she had been protecting.

Like the people of Eldora, who she also fought to protect.

…

She…

…

S-she couldn't do it.

Her aim faltered, for just a brief moment, and the pistol found itself lowered. Maybe if she just tossed him off the cockpit, left him broken on the ground, it'd be enough… right?

At that moment, seeing her hesitation, the young man quickly took to action, fumbling for the handgun holstered on his leg.

A sudden coldness washed over her mind, gold invading her eyes as she raised her gun once more…

…

BANG-BANG-BANG!

Blood splattered across the cockpit, across her arm, ACROSS HER FACE, THERE WAS SO MUCH BLOOD, WHY DIDN'T SHE FEEL ANYTHING, WHY COULDN'T SHE FEEL ANYTHING, HE WAS STARING RIGHT AT HER, BLOOD WAS RUNNING DOWN HIS FOREHEAD IN-BETWEEN HIS GLAZED-OVER EYES AND SHE JUST PULLED HIM FORWARD AND TOSSED HIM OUT OF THE COCKPIT–

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

A scream, primal and animalistic in its fury, echoed in the shower room. Serena punched the mirror, the glass shattering into hundreds of shards that rained down to the ground and against her hand, slicing it up and adding even more blood, HER BLOOD to the one already present. Her regeneration quickly took to fixing the wound, but she didn't care, she simply threw herself back and staggered away from it, from the shattered glass still showing her face, her bloodied face, GET IT OFF, SHE HAD TO GET IT OFF–

GETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFFGETITOFF–

She tripped, slipping on the liquid-covered floor and falling back against the wall where the showerhead was mounted on. The Whiskers impacted against the metal, sending a jolt of pain across her spine, and forced Serena to fall forward out of sheer reflex, putting THE MURDERER the ex-Diver on all fours, and allowing the warm water to fall upon her body and slide down across her body, taking with it sweat, sand, and the blood, IT WAS STILL THERE, SHE COULD SMELL IT–

"H-Hurgh!"

Bile rose to the back of her throat, burning it until Serena couldn't hold it back anymore, and she let it all out into the floor. Over and over, she threw up everything still in her stomach, until she was desperately dry heaving, eyes unfocused and body alight with Permet circuitry as all the puke mixed with the blood running down onto the floor and down the drain, until finally, strength failed her limbs, and she collapsed to the floor.

"She saved my… our lives."

And in the solitude of the shower room, away from any prying eyes and ears…

"And I want to thank her for it."

Serena Durandal broke down, wailing and screaming, as the blood of her first true kill was all washed away.

~O~

IT'S OVER.

IT'S FUCKING OVER.

THANK CHRIST, FINALLY!

God, this took fucking FOREVER!

Apologies for it too, folks, I didn't want to take this long with the rewrite, but unfortunately shit conspired to take away my free time.

Primarily, work.

I had a fight with my superiors at work due to hours and the fact I started arriving a few minutes late due to the heat wave blasting us for the start of the year, and thus they forcibly pushed me into closing time hours (and also wrote me up for it, but that's not important). This means that now, I stay at work until past 10pm, and coupled with the return trip, I get home at over 11pm, and after everything to get myself prepped to rest, it's almost always 1am.

I have been going to bed at around 3-4am at the earliest, even when I try to squeeze out some writing, and I wake up at 12am, one hour before I have to leave for work. There's also the fact I'm slowly starting to resent said current superiors more and more due to constant restrictions they're slapping us with, not to mention a bout or two of hypocrisy every so often.

Frankly, this shit is screwing me up, so I'm making plans to quit my current work. First I need to take advantage of my current work-provided health plan to do some stuff I wanted to, but after that's finished, I'm leaving the store I work at. Already got another place lined up, closer to home, and with better work hours, but that's for the future.

AND SPEAKING OF FUTURE!

I can now finally, FINALLY move on to Chapter 6 proper, now that the story is more centered on something I consider to be the vision I ACTUALLY aimed for with this fic, so we can finally advance The Plot and put Serena through the fucking wringer!

… I shouldn't be so happy saying this.

Also, regarding two pointers, one of which I dunno if I mentioned previously:

One, my page on the site that starts with P has been closed, so that's over. I think I mentioned it before, but just in case, this is the last time.

Secondly, regarding the commission depicting Gundam Valefor… I think it is now officially a bust. Artist has completely disappeared off the face of the internet, with no contact in over four months. Incidentally, if anyone has news on Saraki_Yukata, said artist, I'd highly appreciate it.

In the future, once I get some disposable income, I've found an artist willing to salvage Saraki's singular WIP into a working drawing, and even offered a discount for doing so. Bless their heart.

I will also try to commission a picture of Courier Six for Special Delivery to the Frontier, so you all can appreciate just how cool she is.

That's all for now. I'll start chapter 6 of this fic soon, just want a day or two of break before I actually throw myself at it.

Stay safe, y'all, see you soon.