The bright afternoon sun beat down on the massive metallic landing pad of the White Ark, but inside the main engineering bay, the tension was rising.
Ever since Commander Klaus Kimeza brought in the remaining remnants of his old underground faction—the Dark Resistance from his days operating under the alias Ans Silvet—the base had been a melting pot of different military groups. Most of them had integrated smoothly, but two former aces from the space colonies were harboring a deep, bitter resentment.
Wars Stinger and his girlfriend, Aya Rose, stood near the edge of the catwalk, their arms crossed as they watched the automated cranes work. Back in the colonies, these two were the elite pilots of the fearsome Romeo Blu Gundam. They were supposed to be unstoppable. But during a catastrophic clash months ago, the pilots of the White Ghost had completely destroyed their machine, forcing them to eject from the burning wreckage, abandon their status, and flee to Earth as nameless, hidden mercenaries. For a long time, they hid their true identities until Ans Silvet recruited them.
And now? They had just found out that the legendary pilots who ruined their lives and reputations were none other than Klaus's teenage twin children, Zaki and Maki.
"It's a joke, Aya," Wars spat quietly, his knuckles turning white as he stared down at the hangar floor. "We lost our status, our pride, everything... to a couple of high school brats. And now we're taking orders from their father?"
Aya adjusted her pilot vest, her eyes sharp. "Calm down, Wars. Ans Silvet is the one who gave us a roof over our heads. But... I agree. It feels like a slap in the face. We're supposed to be the best pilots here, yet those kids get all the glory and the best machines."
Wars didn't answer. He turned around and marched down the gantry stairs, heading straight toward the primary maintenance platform where Klaus Kimeza was deeply focused, adjusting the internal neural calibration settings for Feres's upcoming custom machine.
"Hey! Commander Kimeza!" Wars called out, his deep voice echoing across the loud, clanking machinery of the hangar.
Klaus stopped typing on his holographic pad. He slowly turned his massive frame around, his stern, weathered face looking down at the younger pilot. "What is it, Wars? I'm in the middle of fine-tuning the auxiliary power grids."
Wars stopped just a few feet away, planting his boots firmly on the metal grating. He pointed a finger toward the resting Mobile Suits. "I want to challenge you. A one-on-one, real-time Mobile Suit duel. Right now."
The entire room went dead silent. The mechanics dropped their wrenches. Airi Kimeza, who was working on a terminal nearby, snapped her head around, her eyes wide with shock. Even Maki and Zaki, who were reviewing flight logs in the corner, looked up with stunned expressions.
Klaus narrowed his dark eyes, his expression becoming intensely serious as he stepped closer to Wars. The sheer physical presence of the veteran commander was enough to make most men back down, but Wars stood his ground.
"A duel?" Klaus repeated, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly rumble. "And what exactly do you think you're going to prove with a Mobile Suit duel, boy?"
Wars let out a sharp, arrogant scoff. "Let's stop playing games, Klaus. I know who the White Ghost pilots are now. My reputation in the colonies was destroyed because of your kids. But more importantly, I am a better, stronger pilot than anyone else in this damn hangar. I deserve to be given one of those high-spec Kimeza-designed units, and I deserve to lead the vanguard mobile suit forces of the White Ark. If I can beat you, the legendary Ans Silvet, then you give me the position. If I lose, I'll shut my mouth and follow your orders without another word."
"How dare you?!" Airi shouted, stepping forward with her fists clenched, her face flushing with anger. "We are in the middle of a global crisis! We don't have time for your childish ego trips, Wars! The parts we have are for the defense of—"
"Airi, stay back," Klaus interrupted calmly, raising a massive hand to stop his wife. He stared at Wars for a few long seconds, analyzing the raw, frustrated ambition in the young man's eyes. Klaus knew that if he didn't crush this resentment now, it would turn into a dangerous poison during a real battle. "I accept your challenge."
Wars's lips curved into a confident, cocky smile. "Glad to hear it. To make it fair, we keep it old-school. Standard physical environment, no high-output beam weapons, no funnels, no long-range snipers. Just our machines, a standard Heat Sword, and a physical shield. First one to immobilize the opponent or place a blade at the cockpit wins."
"Fine by me," Klaus nodded flatly. "Get your gear."
By early afternoon, the duel was set.
The battlefield was a dense, heavily forested valley located just a few kilometers outside the primary defensive perimeter of the White Ark. The tall, ancient trees and rugged stone ridges provided plenty of tactical cover, making it a perfect testing ground for close-quarters combat.
Up on the second-floor observation balcony of the White Ark, the entire crew had gathered to watch the live video feed. Zaki, Maki, Aurora, Gills, Tasya, and Augustina stood along the railing, their eyes locked on the monitors.
Airi Kimeza stood near the main control console, her fingers trembling slightly as she monitored the telemetry data. Her face was full of deep, motherly anxiety. "That idiot... why does he always have to solve things with his fists? The Grai Gundam Spec 2 is still highly unstable. The thruster response times are sluggish because we haven't finished calibrating the inner frame after his brutal battle against the Solva twins. He shouldn't be pushing that machine right now."
Zaki stared at the screen, his face serious. "Dad knows what he's doing, Mom. Wars is a good pilot, but he's fighting out of anger. Dad's gonna teach him a lesson."
Down in the forest, the two giant machines materialized, facing each other across a wide, muddy clearing.
Klaus's unit was the newly refurbished Grai Gundam Spec 2. The machine had been freshly repainted—its primary body was a pristine white, accented by sharp charcoal-gray shoulder guards, with the classic red coloration on the soles of its feet. It held a heavy, curved Heat Sword in its right hand and a thick titanium alloy tower shield in its left.
Opposite him stood Wars Stinger inside his customized Bishop Custom. The machine was a mass-produced colonial model, heavily built with slightly thicker, bulkier armor plates than the Gundam. It was painted a striking light-blue and jet-black pattern. Despite its heavier chassis, the Bishop was known for its surprising agility in short bursts. Wars revved his machine's heavy thermal blade, the edge glowing a bright, searing orange.
Inside his cockpit, Wars cracked his neck, his hands gripping the controls tightly. "Let's see if the old man can still dance."
Pshhhhh—POP!
A bright green flare shot up into the sky from an automated drone, exploding into a cloud of sparkling green smoke. The duel had officially begun.
"HRAAAAH!" Wars roared over the local comms.
The Bishop Custom's high-output backpack thrusters exploded with a violent burst of yellow flame. The blue-and-black machine didn't just walk; it skittered across the muddy ground with frightening speed, kicking up a massive wave of dirt and crushed trees as it rushed straight toward the Grai Gundam.
Wars brought his glowing Heat Sword down in a ferocious, diagonal executioner slash, aiming directly for the Grai Gundam's neck joint.
CRRAAAAANG!
A deafening shockwave of metallic screeching echoed through the forest. Klaus didn't even take a step back. With a cold, calculated flick of his wrist, he raised his heavy tower shield, catching the full weight of Wars's strike perfectly on the reinforced center line. Sparks rained down on the forest floor, instantly igniting the dry leaves below.
"Too slow, boy," Klaus's calm, steady voice boomed over the radio.
"I'm just getting started!" Wars shouted back.
Wars violently yanked his controls, using the residual kinetic energy to pivot his Bishop Custom on its left heel. The bulkier machine executed a lightning-fast spin, using its heavy shield to smash against Klaus's side, trying to throw the Gundam off balance. But Klaus anticipated the move. He brought the Grai Gundam's Heat Sword up, catching the shield strike and parrying it away with a sharp, metallic CLANG.
What followed was a brutal, high-speed exhibition of elite master-class piloting. Wars fought like a wild animal, utilizing every single ounce of the Bishop Custom's heavy frame. He delivered a continuous, relentless barrage of thrusts, slashes, and shield bashes. The Bishop Custom might have looked fat compared to the sleek white Gundam, but in the hands of an ace like Wars, its mobility was terrifying. It was proof of why the colonies had mass-produced the Bishop line to counter independent Earth forces.
Clang! Crash! Screeech!
Up on the White Ark balcony, the teenagers watched in absolute awe.
"Wow... that guy Wars is actually incredible," Maki murmured, her eyes wide as she tracked the blue machine's fluid movements on the screen. "He's forcing Dad to play completely on the defensive."
"No," Zaki corrected, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the frame data. "Look closely at Dad's footsteps. He isn't being pushed back. He's just letting Wars waste his thruster fuel and heat capacity. But Mom is right... the Grai Gundam's joints are smoking. The frame is taking too much internal stress because the maintenance isn't finished."
Inside the Grai Gundam cockpit, red warning lights began to blink along the lower dashboard. [WARNING: REAR ACTUATOR OVERHEATING. RESPONSE TIME DELAYED BY 0.4 SECONDS.]
Klaus felt the sluggishness in the control sticks. The machine won't hold up if this turns into an endurance match, he thought, his face completely expressionless as a drop of sweat rolled down his cheek. Time to end this.
Wars pulled his machine back, his thrusters overcharging as he prepared for one final, crushing overhead strike. "This is it, Klaus! Your Gundam can't keep up with my inputs anymore! The age of the old men is over!"
The Bishop Custom launched into the air, hovering for a split second under the bright sun as Wars brought his glowing orange sword down with both hands, channeling the entire weight of his machine into a singular, killing blow.
"You have talent, Wars," Klaus said softly over the radio. "But you lack absolute battlefield awareness."
Instead of raising his shield to block the overhead strike, Klaus did something completely insane. He released his grip on his heavy tower shield, letting it drop uselessly into the mud. With both hands free on the control sticks, Klaus slammed his foot pedal straight to the floorboard, overcharging the Grai Gundam's backpack auxiliary jet boosters.
BOOOOOOOM!
The white-and-gray Gundam didn't move backward—it launched itself forward and down, sliding flat across the muddy ground like a baseball player stealing a base. Wars's heavy sword sliced through thin air, crashing violently into the dirt where Klaus had been standing a millisecond ago, creating a massive explosion of rock and soil.
Before Wars could even process where his opponent had gone, the Grai Gundam executed a brutal, low-angle sweep kick while still sliding through the mud. The Gundam's heavy metal leg smashed directly into the Bishop Custom's right ankle joint.
CRUUUUNCH!
The balance sensors inside the Bishop completely went into a frenzy. The massive blue-and-black machine tilted violently, its heavy weight working against it as it flipped over and crashed heavily onto its back, crushing several massive pine trees beneath its bulk.
Wars's cockpit spun violently, his head rattling inside his helmet. "Wh-What?! Where is he—?!"
Before Wars could even reach for his thruster reset switches, a massive shadow blocked the sunlight entering his primary viewscreen.
THUD!
The Grai Gundam Spec 2 stood directly over the fallen Bishop, its white armor covered in mud and soot, but its green visors glowing with absolute, unshakable dominance. Klaus held his heavy Heat Sword in a tight, reverse grip, the razor-sharp tip of the solid metal blade resting exactly one inch away from the central cockpit hatch of the Bishop Custom. If this had been a real battle, a single push would have impaled Wars instantly.
The maintenance alarms inside Klaus's cockpit were buzzing loudly, but he ignored them, keeping his hand perfectly steady on the controls.
The communication channel remained dead silent for five agonizing seconds. All that could be heard was the heavy, frantic panting of Wars through his microphone.
Slowly, Wars let go of his control sticks, his hands dropping limply to his lap. His shoulders slumped against his pilot seat, a bitter, exhausted sigh escaping his lips. "...I lose. I completely lose."
Wars looked up at the giant white face of the Gundam staring down at him. He had fought with everything he had, utilizing every high-spec maneuver he knew, yet this veteran had taken him down with a single, dirty, unpainted machine using a basic grunt-level tactic. The sheer gap in tactical experience and raw instinct was undeniable. Klaus Kimeza truly was a monster.
Klaus slowly pulled his sword back, clicking it into the safety latch on his rear skirt armor. He extended the Grai Gundam's mechanical right hand down toward the fallen Bishop, offering a lift.
"Get up, Wars," Klaus said, his voice losing its harsh military edge, returning to a tone of calm guidance. "You're a phenomenal pilot. Your movements with that Bishop Custom are better than ninety percent of the active Colonial Army I've faced in my life. You have the right to be proud."
Wars engaged his thrusters weakly, letting the Gundam pull his machine back up to its feet. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, his tone still slightly bitter but completely respectful. "If I'm so good, then why did you beat me so easily?"
"Because you were fighting to satisfy your own ego, while I was fighting to ensure my machine didn't fall apart before I could get back to my family," Klaus replied bluntly. He guided the Grai Gundam back toward the path of the White Ark. "Listen to me, Wars. I know you and Aya want a high-spec Kimeza unit. And you will get your turn. But you have to be patient. The resources and spare parts inside the White Ark are incredibly limited right now. Everything we are building is in the experimental testing phase. If I give you a machine that isn't fully calibrated, I'm not rewarding you I'm sending you to your death. And I don't intend to lose a single pilot under my command."
Inside his cockpit, Wars stared at his console, his face turning slightly red as a wave of intense shame washed over him. He realized how childish and incredibly impatient he had been acting, especially after the tragedy that had just happened to Feres two days ago.
Wars let out a soft, defeated chuckle, shaking his head. "...Yeah. I get it now, Commander. I was being an idiot. I apologize for the trouble."
"Apology accepted," Klaus nodded as their two machines walked side by side back through the forest toward the base. "Just make sure you're ready when the real fight comes. Because the space kings aren't going to give us a second chance."
Up on the balcony, Airi let out a massive sigh of relief, leaning against the console as a bright smile returned to her face. Zaki and Maki looked at each other, a newfound respect for their father's leadership locking deep into their minds. The White Ark had successfully survived an internal fracture, cementing their bond even tighter as the dark shadows of the ultimate global war loomed closer on the horizon.
To be continued...