Chapter 4

Chapter 4

10:00 AM

Siberia

(P.O.V) Reinhard 

As Aeolia stepped into the nearby tent filled with computers streaming critical data from the Gundam, a mix of anticipation and pressure settled heavily on my shoulders. I took a deep breath, forcing down any nerves, and made my way toward a smaller tent nearby to change into the pilot suit designed by one of my team members.

Upon entering the tent, I was struck by the sight of the suit laid out on a table. Impressive was an understatement; it was sleek, futuristic, and designed specifically for combat and piloting—an embodiment of my team's hard work. The colors were predominantly black, accented with striking white and gray details. Protective elements adorned the chest, shoulders, elbows, knees, and feet, offering the armor I would need if I faced battle outside the Gundam. On the right leg, a holster awaited my pistol. The helmet, dark and foreboding, was equipped with a clear visor that could shade to a tinted black, revealing only my eyes and the upper part of my face.

It struck me how much thought had gone into this suit. Additional features included environmental control, pressurization to protect against the vacuum of space, integrated communication systems, a Gundam interface, and enhanced capabilities to withstand increased G-forces and rapid velocity changes. The helmet featured a heads-up display (HUD) that would present all the vital information I needed.

(PICTURE)

After changing into my pilot suit, I returned my gaze to the table where my original holster cradled my pistol. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I considered whether to take it with me. The 1911 was a relic from a bygone era, upgraded to meet today's standards while still chambered in 9mm. Matte black with cobalt blue accents, it bore an intricate engraving that resembled tree bark or flowing water, shifting with the light.

This pistol once belonged to Mad Dog, the man I had killed. Memories of fighting my way through the ranks of those who had raised me and taken my parents surged back, sharp and painful. I steeled myself for what lay ahead. Images echoed in my mind, reminding me of the fragility of human life. After ending Mad Dog's life, I took his pistol as a memento mori—a stark reminder that I wasn't invincible, just human. I loathed him, the man responsible for my parents' deaths, yet I felt a strange mix of gratitude that he had chosen to train me rather than end my life, even if it was for his own twisted amusement.

After a moment of contemplation, I sighed, deciding to holster the pistol in my new gear. I recalled the moment I had pointed it at Aeolia when we first met, realizing that it was more than a reminder of mortality; it symbolized my leap into the unknown by joining Celestial Being.

Exiting the tent, I started toward the command tent. Along the way, I spotted someone approaching from the direction of the Gundam. "Igor!" I called out, waving my hand in greeting.

Igor Babichev was the final member of our team. We had all been recruited by Aeolia for our scientific abilities, but Igor was the unique exception—selected for his medical expertise. In our line of work, understanding the potential side effects of GN particle exposure on the human body was crucial.

I knew that the particles generated by the GN Drive Tau were slightly toxic and could inflict cellular damage when exposed to high concentrations—essentially a death sentence. Even in beam form, these particles were unsafe, unleashing poisonous radioactive emissions upon contact. This was one reason I had ceased my work on the Tau. I suspected the true GN Drives might also carry radiation poisoning risks. When I first activated the GN Drive version Fafnir, it had released radioactive particles. Panic surged within me as the Geiger counter blared. I pressed the emergency switch, powering down the Fafnir before seeking Igor for a checkup. He had detected a non-lethal amount of radiation in my blood.

After that incident, I meticulously combed through the data recorded during Fafnir's activation, identified the flaws, and corrected them, ensuring that the GN particles would remain harmless under any circumstances. Yet self-doubt lingered—what if true GN drives harbored similar dangers?

Sensing my unease, Igor turned his head toward me. "Reinhard, how are you? Ready for the test?" he asked, stretching his hands beneath his doctor's coat.

Was I nervous? Yes. My mind raced with scenarios—everything from the Gundam failing to power on to it suddenly exploding in a blaze of chaos. "Yeah, I'm worried." I admitted. "But worrying won't fix anything. We did everything we could. I built the OS and the GN Drive; Thomas built the frame—even if it left him exhausted. Bjorn, being the weapons maniac he is, went overboard, creating an arsenal when we only asked for a rifle that could fire GN particles as beams and a shield. Ashley crafted the armor, and Regina set up the systems to house the software and even managed to implement optical camouflage. All that's left is to hope for the best." I said, walking side by side with Igor toward the command tent. "By the way, what were you doing near the Gundam?"

Igor scratched his cheek, a hint of embarrassment coloring his features. "Oh, I was just packing a first-aid kit and a survival kit into the cockpit and checking to see if the vital signs monitoring system was functional," he explained.

I understood the necessity of a vital signs monitoring system, but the addition of a first-aid kit and survival gear puzzled me. "Why include a first-aid kit and survival supplies in the Gundam?" I inquired, curiosity bubbling beneath the surface.

With seriousness in his eyes, Igor replied, "Well, during the test, you'll be flying to that mountain in the distance and back. There's no telling if the flight system will fail, so I wanted to ensure you could survive anything unexpected."

He wasn't wrong. We'd never had a chance to test the flight feature since, despite the Fafnir being ready long ago, we had been missing the mobile suit to house it. "Well, thank you for worrying about my safety." I said, genuinely appreciative of his concern.

"No need to thank me. If it weren't for your advice, I probably wouldn't have found the courage to tell Elizabeth that I liked her. I'm sure Thomas is also grateful for your input that helped him realize Joana was into him. That guy, despite being a genius at mechanics, is the densest person I've ever met." he said, chuckling.

Ah, that's right; I had indeed given both of them romantic advice. Igor had longed to confess to Elizabeth Moreno before joining Celestial Being but had been paralyzed by fear of rejection. Thomas had frequently shared stories about Joana, a college classmate who often called him. My advice had been simple: you miss 100% of the shots you don't take. I had bluntly informed Thomas that he was a dense idiot before reinforcing that Joana was likely interested in him.

Recalling those conversations dredged up painful memories from my college days, particularly how my first relationship had ended. I vividly remembered sending the man my girlfriend had cheated on me with to the hospital, the feeling of blood on my fists seared in my memory. Luckily, I managed to avoid criminal charges, but it still stung to think about the first time I had opened my heart.

I shook my head, attempting to dispel those thoughts. "No need to thank me; I just offered some advice." I said, downplaying the situation.

Igor merely shook his head in response. "Honestly, you're too humble for your own good." he said as we reached the tent.

Upon entering, I spotted Aeolia seated in a chair, a report in hand, while my colleagues busily operated various computers. Aeolia was the first to notice our arrival, placing the report on the table before standing and clearing his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone, it's time to go over what the Gundam will be doing during the test." he said, his tone authoritative.

Everyone rose from their chairs and gathered around a table displaying a map of the surrounding 100 kilometers. Aeolia pointed to various areas marked in red ink. "First, Reinhard will perform initial tests here at the starting point to acclimate him to the Gundam. Then he will fly to this mountain, engaging multiple targets pre-placed in advance. Upon reaching the mountain, he will destroy an abandoned military base acquired by one of our agents, who plans to establish a research institute there. Throughout the base, there are additional targets he must also eliminate. After that, he will return to the starting point, but along the way, he will need to destroy some weather balloons while flying at high altitudes. Finally, after reaching the airspace above the starting point, we will conduct the last test: activating the Lite-Trans-Am system. Are there any questions?" he concluded.

The first hand to rise was Thomas's, followed quickly by Regina's. "What happens if any planes spot the Gundam? I understand it has an optical camouflage system, but that can only function when the Gundam is stationary. Wouldn't that reveal the existence of Celestial Being?" he queried, concern etched on his features.

Aeolia nodded thoughtfully. "Good question. I had VEDA, along with one of our agents from the Russian government, establish this area." he pointed at the map, "as a no-fly zone. There are no residents in this region, so we needn't worry about anyone discovering the Gundam. Regina, please share your question."

"I suggest that before the Gundam returns, but after it destroys the balloons, it should fly upwards to see how far it can ascend. Who knows? Perhaps it might even reach space!" she exclaimed, her excitement radiating from her.

"You make a strong point, Regina. Before Reinhard returns, he will fly as high as possible." Aeolia affirmed. "If there are no further questions, let's kick off this test." he declared.

I remained quiet throughout the briefing, anxiety coursing through me in anticipation of what lay ahead. I began heading toward the Alpha, my heartbeat quickening with excitement. When was the last time I felt exhilarated like this? Memories of chasing one of my targets during a high-speed car chase flooded my mind; I had "borrowed" a supercar and driven like there was no tomorrow. Another echo of the past involved fighting against a group of yakuza armed with tanto and katana—fifty versus one. During that life-or-death struggle, I realized that I didn't hate combat; I despised what it represented. The thrill of risking everything for survival was intoxicating.

Even now, after joining Celestial Being and striving to eradicate war, I found I didn't dislike fighting. What I truly abhorred was the concept of war itself—the people who relished in killing out of mere pleasure, those who thrived on division and conflict for profit, and those who declared warfare over trivial differences such as race or religion. Such individuals were a plague to humanity. However, I could respect those who fought not for greed but to prove their superior skills. They sought to carve their names into the annals of history as the strongest—true warriors.

As I reached the Alpha, I activated the built-in HUD in my helmet and released a reinforced carbon cord with a foot harness attached. The Alpha opened its cockpit, and the harness descended slowly from the top hatch. Once I touched the ground, I stepped onto the harness, letting it pull me up while I maintained my balance. When I arrived at the cockpit, I entered and sat down, taking a moment to survey my surroundings as the hatch sealed shut.

Tension hung thick in the cockpit, the atmosphere electric with unspoken anticipation. I realized I was about to become the first man to pilot a mobile suit in history, a monumental achievement even if no one outside this group would ever know. Gripping the control sticks, I noted that they felt remarkably similar to the ones I had constructed in my simulation. A smile crept across my face; it seemed Regina had borrowed from those experiences in her design.

(PICTURE)

In front of me, the primary control console showcased a complex array of levers, buttons, and displays—all meticulously crafted for maximum precision and responsiveness. The seat was ergonomically designed, featuring a smooth, curved headrest that cradled my shoulders during high-stress maneuvers. The armrests held sophisticated controls positioned perfectly for my hands, allowing rapid and intuitive input.

To the right, a smaller console embedded in the wall was equipped with additional controls within easy reach. This console included multiple switches and buttons for auxiliary functions and fine-tuning the mobile suit's performance during combat. The entire cockpit was enveloped in a muted metallic gray, reflecting the professionalism of its design.

A large, panoramic screen stretched before me, serving as my primary visual interface. It displayed a dynamic feed of the external environment, layered over tactical data and system diagnostics. The screen's edges were adorned with finely crafted panels containing various indicators and status lights.

To my left, a secondary monitor was neatly embedded in the wall, angled toward me. This screen displayed critical data streams—energy levels, weapon statuses, and vital statistics of the mobile suit—a constant flow of information essential for split-second decision-making.

The cockpit felt compact yet not confining, optimized for both pilot control and comfort. Its design was seamless; every element served a purpose, from the cushioned seat to the ergonomic layout of controls, in line with Regina's utilitarian philosophy.

After spending a moment familiarizing myself with each lever and button, I powered on the monitor. Immediately, the symbol of Celestial Being illuminated the display, and I prepared to speak. "Haru."

Moments later, a voice emerged from the speaker. "[Hello, sir. Can I assume that we are preparing to begin the test for the Alpha?]"

As I registered Haru's voice, I realized he had altered it to mimic familiarity. "Haru, why did you change your voice to sound like Alfred Pennyworth?" I inquired, a flicker of irritation sparking within me—perhaps granting him unrestricted access to the internet had been a mistake.

[Because you designed me to assist the pilot of the Alpha Gundam to the best of my ability and to prevent mental deterioration by sharing the burden of your experience. Alfred Pennyworth fits that role as he provides emotional support to Batman, ensuring that the weight of protecting Gotham doesn't overwhelm him. Also, Alfred is regarded as one of the greatest humans to ever exist. Did you know he once knocked out Superman?] he stated matter-of-factly.

Groaning, I felt an uneasy realization solidify. Granting him internet access might have been ill-advised. "Haru, Alfred Pennyworth isn't real; he's a fictional character." I corrected, exasperation leaking into my tone.

[Are you certain?]

"Yes."

[Well, that's disappointing.] he replied, sounding as though he genuinely felt let down—a peculiarity since he lacked true emotions.

"Forget it. Just inform me if the GN Drive is ready to launch." I requested, choosing to ignore the surreal notion that my AI companion sounded like a fictional butler.

[The Fafnir is 100% operational and currently has an operating time of three hours. I must caution you, sir, that excessive use of GN particles might exhaust the drive's onboard reserves quicker than anticipated, so please monitor your usage.]

Acknowledging Haru's warning with a nod, I focused on completing a final system check and contacting the command tent. "This is Reinhard; all systems are green. Waiting for permission to begin the test."

"Reinhard, this is Thomas. You have the green light to begin. Please check your HUD; it should display the test objectives."

"Roger." I replied while reviewing the objectives; they aligned perfectly with what Aeolia had outlined in the tent, except for the ones involving preliminary movements to familiarize myself with the Gundam. "Beginning the test."

Immediately, I directed the Alpha to move forward while executing movements to acclimate myself to piloting a mobile suit in the real world for the first time. To my pleasant surprise, the response was exceptional. I activated the GN rifle stored at my waist in preparation for flight. "Haru, is the flight system operational?"

[Yes, sir. The flywheel is spinning, and the funnels are expelling GN particles at an optimal rate. You may take off whenever you're ready.]

At the mention of the funnels expelling GN particles, curiosity surged. I activated an auxiliary camera on the back of the Alpha's head, awestruck by the sight of green and white GN particles swirling around as the funnels inside the flywheel spun. After a moment of absorbing the visuals, I refocused and initiated my takeoff.

The sensation was indescribable; it felt nothing like flying a helicopter. The movement was akin to dancing through the sky. Reaching a sufficient altitude, I set my course for the abandoned military base, briefly accelerating and feeling the G-force slam against me. "Haru, highlight any targets that come into firing range."

[Understood, sir.]

After a few kilometers, multiple targets popped up on the main monitor, marked in bright red. I raised the GN rifle and fired at the first target, but the recoil caught me off guard. I swerved mid-flight before regaining control, my shot missing the target. Frowning, I adjusted for the recoil and began to hit my marks accurately.

Flying at high speeds, I continued shooting at the targets with unerring precision. Eventually, the monitor blinked clear of any new targets, and I lowered the rifle as I cruised toward my objective.

Upon reaching the base, I pondered the most effective way to destroy it when I spotted several gas trucks scattered throughout. A chuckle involuntarily escaped my lips. "Did they really need to scatter a bunch of gas trucks throughout the base? The GN rifle alone can demolish small buildings with a single shot on the lowest power setting. But I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth."

I instructed Haru to mark each gas truck before aiming my rifle. Three rapid shots erupted from the weapon, leading to a chain reaction of explosions that reduced the base to mere rubble.

Confirming the destruction of all scattered targets, I began my return to the starting point. A few kilometers in, alarms blared inside the cockpit, followed closely by Haru's urgent warning.

 [Sir, evade quickly!]

Without hesitation, I executed a barrel roll and ascended rapidly. "What the hell was that? Did some military aircraft target us? I'm certain that Aeolia declared this area a no-fly zone." Just then, a voice crackled over the radio.

"Reinhard, this is Aeolia. I see you've reached the area where the weather balloons are located. Yesterday, Bjorn mentioned he thought the test would be too easy without surprises, so I had him fit a couple of cannons that fire 108mm shells into the balloons. Don't worry; they're loaded with paint. Good luck, and try not to get hit," he concluded before severing the communication.

What is wrong with both of them? How did they manage to fabricate cannons capable of shooting 108mm shells in just one day? Frustration surged within me; there's nothing I detest more than entering a combat situation while lacking critical information. "Haru, can you locate those damned balloons?" I demanded, keeping my eyes locked on the monitor, wary of any lurking surprises.

[I'm sorry, sir; they appear to be covered in a special paint capable of evading the Alpha's sensors.]

Frustration bubbled over, and I clicked my tongue. An idea sparked. "Can you calculate the origin of the shots? If we can't find the balloons, we'll track down where the fire is coming from."

[Yes, sir. After analyzing the shots' trajectory and compensating for wind deviation, it seems they originated from the north.]

I steered the Alpha northward, shield at the ready in case I needed to block incoming shells. A moment later, alarms blared again, and I spotted projectiles hurtling toward me. Instinctively, I dodged, feeling a wild grin stretch across my face. "So, that's where you are, you damned balloons!" The thrill of the chase ignited my adrenaline, each beat of my heart quickening in rhythm with the high-stakes game unfolding.

Eventually, I spotted the balloons floating ahead, firing yet another barrage of shells. I dodged their onslaught, then engaged the GN Vulcan mounted on my right arm to shoot them down. Witnessing each balloon pop elicited a sense of satisfaction—only to discover that the objective to destroy the balloons still remained on my HUD, causing my demeanor to darken.

Suddenly, an alarm blared, and Haru's voice rang in my ears.

 [Above!]

Reacting in an instant, I raised my shield overhead just in time to see a shell strike it directly in the center. Though I knew the paint wouldn't damage me, the surprise attack left me irritated. Drawing my beam saber in my right hand, I watched as the green and white beam erupted from the hilt. I ascended rapidly, managing to block each incoming shell. Just as I was about to collided with the last balloon, I executed a swift vertical slash, effectively bisecting the balloon and its cannon while continuing to ascended.

With the objective disappearing from my HUD, I laughed, a sound tinged with triumph. "Take that, you pesky balloons!"

[Are you okay, sir?]

Realizing I had acted childishly, I took a moment to collect myself. "Sorry, Haru; I lost my focus for a moment."

Continuing towards the starting point, I recalled I needed to ascend as high as possible. I glanced at the right monitor and noted that I had only 80% of the stored particles remaining. "Haru, how long has it been since the test began?"

[Almost two hours, sir.]

Two hours—not bad. We hadn't consumed as many particles as I initially feared. "Alright, let's see how high the Alpha can fly!" I declared, pushing the acceleration to its limits. The G-force pressed firmly against me as I glanced to the right, realizing I was currently soaring at Mach 1.

After some time had passed, Haru spoke up.

 [Sir, we're about to enter the mesosphere, and the Alpha is starting to slow. We don't have enough thrust to continue.]

I took stock of the monitor and squinted at a small dot appearing in the distance. I zoomed in, freezing at the sight. "Haru, is that what I think it is?"

[Sir, I am unable to read your mind, but I believe that is the International Space Station. Might I suggest we quickly descend before they spot a metal giant floating in the sky?]

Without hesitation, I initiated a rapid descent, shaking off the thought of being discovered by the ISS as I adjusted my trajectory to return as close to the starting point as possible. During the descent, my radio began to regain connection with base camp.

"Reinhard, do you copy?" Thomas's voice crackled through the radio, urgent and filled with anxiety.

"Copy, I hear you." I responded, maintaining my focus on the descent.

"God, we thought we'd lost you there for a moment since you weren't responding." he exclaimed, relief evident in his tone.

"Sorry, I think I lost signal when I was approaching the mesosphere." I replied, correcting my path toward the starting point.

"What? You actually reached the mesosphere?" Thomas asked, disbelief coloring his voice.

"Well, technically no. I was nearing the boundary before the Alpha lost thrust. I'm pretty sure I caught a glimpse of the ISS in the distance—I decided to leave quickly." I clarified as I slowed down and descended toward the starting point.

"They didn't spot you, did they?" Aeolia's voice interrupted over the radio, urgency threading through his tone.

"No, they didn't notice. They were still a safe distance away; at worst, they might have seen a moving dot, which could have been anything. Besides, you could always have one of our agents in Russia publish a paper saying a private company sent an experimental weather balloon to the mesosphere." I explained as I came into view of the starting point, slowing down before coming to a halt atop it. "I just reached the starting point, waiting for permission to initiate Trans-Am." Checking the remaining particle reserves, now at 40%, I realized that taking a mobile suit up to the mesosphere may not have been the wisest decision. However, I should still be able to activate Trans-Am for ten seconds.

The radio went silent for a moment before Aeolia spoke again. "Permission granted." he said, his tone hard to pinpoint amidst the uncertainty. I decided to brush it aside; he was likely fatigued.

"Understood." I said, pressing a button that caused a pink screen with the words "Lite Trans-Am" to appear on the panel. Immediately, the Alpha began to glow red alongside the GN particles. I glanced at the right screen, where a countdown was set to nine seconds, and allowed the time to pass. When the countdown reached five, I noted the particle reserves starting to rise. "Haru, what's happening?"

[I'm unsure, sir. The Fafnir seems to be behaving erratically, operating beyond theoretical limits, and is currently functioning as a true GN Drive capable of producing perpetual energy.]

Confusion gripped me. How could the Fafnir generate perpetual energy without a TD blanket? The enormity of the situation was undeniable, and I contacted Aeolia. "Aeolia, are you witnessing this? The Fafnir has begun creating perpetual energy!" I urged urgently.

But I couldn't hear his response; only static filled the air. My heart raced as I realized the GN particles were jamming the radio. Looking back at the screen, I gaped in shock as GN particle levels surged to 300% and continued to rise. I hastily attempted to deactivate Trans-Am, but even after pressing the shutdown button, it persisted. Just as I was about to ask Haru what was happening, an intense headache overwhelmed me—my brain felt like it was about to rupture. I screamed before losing consciousness, my last sight at monitor showed the Gundam being engulfed in a radiant swirl of GN particles.