The construction of the Narrative Gundam proceeded smoothly. Or rather, as an integration of the existing technology at Roz's disposal, building the Narrative Gundam was not difficult.
At this moment, Roz was installing the four Psycho-Frames that had accompanied him through countless battles into the cockpit.
In front of a large array of Psycho-Frames, the four palm-sized cores seemed small, yet Roz clearly knew that his long-time companions were contained within these four frames.
As the final frame was installed, the spherical cockpit retracted, and layers of mechanical internal structures covered it, completing the fixation.
Mechanical arms attached the white outer armor to the mobile suit, and the unpowered gray Psycho-Frames were firmly fixed to the body to ensure they wouldn't fall off for any reason.
Roz had taken the opportunity last night to optimize the nanolevel quantum computer algorithms inside the Psycho-Frames, improving their performance. By now, these newly created Psycho-Frames could be considered "Prototype 2.0."
In particular, to preserve the data from the Jesta, Roz had carefully upgraded the four core Psycho-Frames over multiple attempts.
"Time's up, time's up! Go rest, toothpick! Roz!"
Just as Roz was thinking about further upgrades for the Narrative Gundam, a mechanical arm snuck up from behind, grabbing Roz's shoulder and dragging him toward his dormitory.
"B… Big Haro?"
Roz was stunned by the sudden attack, only realizing he was being dragged along. "What are you doing? Isn't it still not quitting time on Orb?"
In response, Big Haro extended another mechanical arm and gently tapped Roz's head.
"You've been up all night, don't you understand? You're just a carbon-based lifeform, not a spiritual or silicon-based being. What if a battle suddenly occurs and your mind isn't clear?"
For some reason, Big Haro skillfully opened Roz's dorm room door and placed him on the bed.
"Now, you will sleep!"
"What about assembling the Narrative Gundam? And the production of equipment? There's still so much work left!"
Roz tried to get up immediately after lying down.
But Big Haro's mechanical arm pressed his shoulder, keeping him on the bed.
"I said: go to sleep!"
Big Haro's tone turned unusually serious—Roz had never heard it speak like this before.
"I'll follow up on the mobile suit! Do you want me to sing you a lullaby while you sleep?"
"Alright… alright."
Seeing Big Haro like this, Roz accepted reality and obediently lay down.
The air conditioning was adjusted to a proper temperature, and the lights dimmed. In the gradually changing environment, Roz, who had been working tirelessly through the night, began to feel drowsy.
Sensing Roz's breathing becoming steady, Big Haro used a mechanical arm to cover him with a blanket, its cyan-green eyes carefully scanning his condition.
Big Haro did not leave the room. Using the small Haro that had accompanied Roz, it remotely controlled the shipyard's central console to maintain the progress of the mobile suit construction.
Soft, melodious humming came from Big Haro's speakers, like an unknown lullaby, filling Roz's room and easing the tension from his previously tense expression.
Elsewhere, in one of the shipyard's docks:
Christina quietly watched the massive structure before her, with the keel already laid and parts of the frame and equipment assembled, lost in thought.
She seemed to recall what Roz had said to her last night, the first time they saw this enormous structure: "Christina, this is our ship, our… home."
In her memory, Roz had looked at the ship with a sense of expectation.
"Home…"
How long had it been since she last heard this word? Or had she ever seen it manifested outside of a dictionary?
But now, for the first time, she felt a direct understanding of it.
"I also have… something I can do…"
Instinctively, Christina recalled what Roz had once told her.
She paused for a moment, then turned and walked toward the long-unused laboratory.
"I can… protect this home too."
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When Roz woke from sleep, it was already the afternoon in the Orb time zone.
"…I actually slept this long?"
Glancing at the clock beside his pillow, Roz froze for a moment but quickly got up, planning to continue assembling the mobile suit.
As he rose, he noticed Big Haro rolling unsteadily back and forth in front of the bed, and he was momentarily taken aback.
"Big Haro? Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be at the central console?"
"I saw that you were a bit tense and was worried something might happen, so I'm here watching over you."
Big Haro stopped moving and turned to Roz. "After all, it's not unusual for a Newtype to be disturbed by a space ghost in their sleep. I have to say, the solution provided by the Courtyard is pretty useful."
"Solution?"
Roz put on his shoes and stood up, curious about the "solution" Big Haro mentioned.
"Newtype Growth Guide," Chapter 1, Section 6, Subsection 1: If a Courtyard Newtype executor enters sleep, there is a high probability of being attacked by space phantoms, resulting in mental tension. Solution: the assistant should sing a lullaby."
Big Haro projected a book from its eyes, full of annotations and commentary.
"The editor-in-chief of this book is Char Aznable."
Roz looked at the projected book. The cover read: "Highly recommended by Char Aznable, Commander-in-Chief of the Newtype Zeon!!" and showed Char gesturing "Please lend me money." Roz's expression twisted slightly.
"…Char… really is an embarrassing guy."
"But I have to admit, it works really well."
Big Haro retracted the projection and looked at Roz sitting on the edge of the bed.
"So, shall we continue working?"
"Of course!"
Though Big Haro was remotely controlling the assembly, Roz still worried that the mobile suit's armaments had yet to be installed before sleeping.
Beep beep beep… beep beep beep…
Roz's long-unused communicator rang. Picking it up, he frowned.
It was an unfamiliar number… he had labeled all his private contacts, so unknown numbers shouldn't be calling.
"…The address has been masked. They won't find this place."
Big Haro shook its wings at Roz.
"The signal jumped through several relay stations."
Roz pressed the record button and answered the call.
"This is personal space junk recycler Roz. Who is this?"
"Mr. Roz? This is Halberton from the 8th Fleet. Looks like Murrue gave me the correct number."
The familiar voice eased Roz slightly.
"So, why are you contacting me?"
"It's urgent. Let's skip pleasantries and get straight to the point."
Halberton's tone was serious and urgent, making Roz squint.
"While resupplying at the lunar base, we discovered Blue Cosmos operatives. After secret capture and interrogation, we confirmed that Blue Cosmos is building a large weapon on the moon. We are still verifying details."
Halberton sighed as he recalled the information confirmed during interrogation.
"We learned that Blue Cosmos found another partner besides the Atlantic Federation—Kingdom of Foundation."
"And, they used high-ranking Atlantic Federation personnel who had become part of the Blue Cosmos to plan to abandon the Alaskan base and install Cyclops within it to lure and kill ZAFT."
"…So? What do you want me to do?"
Roz quickly left his room and headed toward the hangar where the mobile suit assembly was ongoing.
"Based on our last contact, the Archangel should arrive at the Alaska base by tomorrow morning."
Halberton's voice paused, as if confirming something.
"…Moreover, observations show that ZAFT is mobilizing toward the Alaska base, seemingly preparing to attack."
"I hope you can take the Archangel, along with the troops left behind, and evacuate as many as possible."
"You're overestimating me. At most, I only have one MS. The old one just got destroyed, and the new one isn't ready."
Roz frowned at Halberton's request. "Besides, even if I go there, even without attacks from Earth forces, would they listen to me?"
"…At least take the Archangel out. Murrue will definitely trust you. You can also use my name as leverage."
After a long silence, Halberton spoke again.
"The Archangel is a new warship with strong mobility and firepower. Also, I extracted some Blue Cosmos bases from their sources. You'll find them useful."
When "Blue Cosmos bases" were mentioned, Roz felt a surge of killing intent but quickly calmed, as if nothing had happened.
Halberton, on the other side of the line, seemed aware of Roz's thoughts and quietly waited for a reply.
"…You old fox, you really understand me."
Roz sighed and walked to the just-assembled Narrative Gundam, looking up.
"You know I can't refuse this intel."
"Because right now, even if our positions differ, we share the same enemy."
Halberton seemed relieved, his tone easing slightly. "And don't call me old man again, or I'll tell Murrue your bad habits."
"You little trickster!"
After hanging up, Roz shifted from his earlier relaxed tone to a serious expression as he faced the Narrative Gundam.
"Time to fight again… I'm ready. Are you ready, Narrative?"
A faint red glow flashed across the Psycho-Frames, as if the mobile suit was responding.
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