Crazy in Gunpla Tournament : Gundam Build Fighters Try Fanfic

Amidst the chaos of the battlefield, the cacophony of gunshots reverberated through the air like a deadly symphony. Explosions rocked the ground, sending plumes of smoke and debris into the already hazy atmosphere. In the midst of this chaos, a lone figure stood tall, donned in a sleek black commando uniform and a matching military helmet. This was Ryan, a soldier with a determination that matched the intensity of the war raging around him.

As the relentless battle raged on, a voice crackled to life on Ryan's walkie-talkie, cutting through the turmoil. "Ryan, are you okay?" The voice belonged to Shark, a comrade in arms, and a sense of camaraderie permeated their conversation.

Ryan responded, his voice steady despite the mayhem surrounding him. "Yeah, I'm okay, Shark. Are the guys coming?"

Shark's voice was resolute, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos. "Ryan, just give us some time. We'll be there."

Ryan's instincts sharpened as he sensed the enemy forces closing in on his position. He took cover behind a crumbling building, his grip firm on his trusty assault rifle, an M416. The weight of his decisions and the burden of his past service as a government pawn weighed on him, but there was no turning back now.

"You know, Shark," Ryan began, a touch of nostalgia in his voice, "it was a good time as a pawn for the government and working with you guys. Goodbye."

In that fateful moment, as Ryan emerged from his cover and stared down the barrel of the enemy's weapon, a torrent of emotions engulfed him. The weight of his past, the weariness of being a pawn in the government's games, and the sheer exhaustion from the relentless battles had all culminated into a crescendo of despair. Yet, amidst the despair, a spark of defiance flickered in his eyes. The enemy was closing in fast, their shadows lurking in the smoke-choked distance.

As the first of the enemy combatants came into view, Ryan's finger tightened on the trigger. His M416 roared to life, sending a hail of bullets tearing through the air. Three of the enemy soldiers fell to the ground, their bodies convulsing with the impact of the rounds. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

In the deafening exchange of gunfire, Ryan's ammunition ran dry. The last enemy combatant, seizing the opportunity, took aim with deadly precision. The moment stretched infinitely as their eyes locked, the weight of destiny hanging in the balance. As the enemy's finger tightened on the trigger, a strange sense of calm washed over him. His life didn't flash before his eyes; instead, he found himself contemplating the nature of his existence. The years spent as a government pawn, the countless missions executed without question, the lives he had taken, and the innocence he had lost – it all seemed like a surreal montage playing in his mind.

In that moment, as the bullet raced toward him, Ryan's lips moved, whispering a prayer to the heavens above. "God," he murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the chaos, "if there's another life after this, grant me a chance to live it differently. Free from the chains of manipulation, devoid of the bloodstains on my hands."

The bullet struck him, and for an infinitesimal moment, pain seared through his being. But oddly, it was a welcome sensation. It was as if the physical agony mirrored the emotional torment he had endured for so long. As he crumpled to the ground, the world around him blurred into a chaotic haze.

His senses, however, remained acute. He could feel the dampness of the earth beneath him, the acrid smell of gunpowder lingering in the air, and the distant cries of his comrades. Yet, his focus was inward, on the storm of thoughts and regrets that consumed him.

In those final moments, Ryan's mind wandered through the labyrinth of his existence. He pondered the choices he had made, the people he had loved and lost, and the ideals he had once held dear. The realization struck him like a lightning bolt – he had been a pawn, a mere chess piece moved around at the whims of others. His life, a series of predetermined moves on the grand chessboard of power and deception.

But amidst the bitterness, a glimmer of hope emerged. The prayer he had uttered in his dying breath carried a desperate plea for redemption, a yearning for a chance to rewrite the narrative of his soul. He envisioned a life where he could be free, unburdened by the sins of his past, a life where he could embrace love instead of violence, where he could find solace in the simplicity of existence.

As his vision dimmed, he clung to that glimmer of hope. It became his sanctuary, a place where he could escape the pain and find peace. In that moment of surrender, he felt a peculiar sense of liberation. The battlefield faded away, and he was adrift in an endless expanse of nothingness.

Then, a flicker of light pierced the darkness. It was warm, inviting, and filled with an inexplicable sense of serenity. Ryan felt himself drawn toward it, his essence carried on the gentle currents of existence. The light enveloped him, and for a brief, timeless instant, he was weightless, free from the shackles that had bound him in life.

In the moments after his death, Ryan found himself suspended in a void, a vast expanse of nothingness that seemed to stretch into eternity. The darkness enveloped him like a heavy shroud, rendering him weightless and formless. Strangely, there was no fear, no regret, and no sense of longing. He felt nothing. It was as if his soul had been stripped bare, leaving behind only a hollow shell of its former self.

In this emptiness, time lost its meaning. There was no past, no present, and no future. There was only the eternal present, a never-ending moment of existence in the void. Ryan floated, adrift in the sea of darkness, his consciousness untethered from the constraints of reality.

But then, in the distance, he saw it – a faint glimmer of light, a beacon in the impenetrable darkness. It called to him, a distant promise of something beyond the void. A spark of curiosity flickered within him, a tiny ember in the vast emptiness of his being.

Driven by an inexplicable urge, Ryan attempted to move. His limbs, or whatever semblance of them remained, responded sluggishly, as if defying the very laws of the universe. With every ounce of willpower, he pushed himself toward the light, propelled by a force he couldn't comprehend.

The journey felt eternal, each moment stretching into infinity. The tension in the air was palpable, a thick undercurrent of anticipation and uncertainty. Ryan's formless existence quivered with an inner turmoil, a conflict between the void that sought to consume him and the glimmer of light that promised something more.

As he moved closer, the light grew brighter, illuminating the darkness around him. It cast long, distorted shadows that seemed to dance to an otherworldly rhythm. The tension within Ryan escalated, his formless essence pulsating with a sense of urgency. It was as if the very fabric of his being was unraveling, threads of existence fraying at the edges.

And then, with a surge of energy that seemed to come from the depths of his soul, Ryan breached the barrier between darkness and light. The transition was abrupt, a jarring shift from the void into a blinding brilliance that seared his consciousness. His form, once amorphous and intangible, solidified into something tangible.

He opened his eyes.

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