The vast, metallic heart of A Baoa Qu pulsed with controlled chaos. Hangar bays teemed with engineers and mechanics swarming over Mobile Suits like metal insects. Briefing rooms echoed with urgent commands and grim tactical updates. Deep within the fortress, far removed from the immediate grime and danger, lay the sanctum of Supreme Commander Gihren Zabi.
Gihren sat behind his imposing desk, the polished surface reflecting the cold, sterile light of his office. The viewport behind him displayed a panoramic, indifferent swirl of distant stars. He was reviewing a datapad, its screen glowing faintly in the dim light. Standing rigidly before him was an intelligence officer, young and clearly nervous under the Supreme Commander's unwavering gaze.
The report was concise, distilled from months of observation, testing, and invasive probing.
> Subject: Zehrtfeldt, Tanya ; Zehrtfeldt, Lelouch .
Status: Wards of the State. Integrated into specialized youth program, transferred to military assessment cadre.
Findings: Genetic markers indicate latent Newtype potential in both twins.
Gihren paused, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. Newtypes. Powerful, unpredictable—potential kings, or future threats.
Psychological risk analysis flags Tanya as "efficient but emotionally volatile" and Lelouch as "charismatic manipulator."
A slow, cold smile spread across Gihren's face. He leaned back in his chair, the soft leather creaking.
"Another one?" he mused aloud, his voice low and dangerous, more to himself than to the officer. " another asset in Kycilia's growing web?"
He tapped a finger idly on the datapad. Puppets could be useful—but only if he held the strings.
"Dispose of them if they waver," he ordered with chilling casualness, as if ordering troop rations. "If they begin to deviate from Zeon's design, they are not to become symbols for another's agenda."
He gestured dismissively at the officer. "Authorize deep background surveillance. Unknown to Kycilia. Use encrypted Academy channels and loyal field operatives."
The officer nodded and saluted, withdrawing quickly.
Gihren turned back to the stars. "Let Dozle have his faith. I will have control."
---
Across the fortress, in the far less opulent mobile suit testing hangars, Tanya and Lelouch observed from a raised platform. The air was thick with hydraulic smoke, the sharp scent of ozone, and the constant whir of prototype systems being stress-tested.
Below them, engineers adjusted the joints of a new Zaku II prototype—sleek, reinforced, rumored to be pre-configured for early-stage enhanced pilot interface systems. Not Psycommu, not yet. But close.
Tanya's eyes flicked over its frame, tracking the mechanics' hands, noting the subtle changes in balance and limb calibration. Every flicker of motion was a message to her.
Lelouch stood beside her, composed, hands clasped behind his back. His mind saw beyond the machine—into its potential battlefield applications, how its capabilities might skew tactical equations.
They were both observers, still barred from piloting. A 'delay,' officially—Dozle's orders. But they understood the truth: the delay was a surveillance window, a cold period of evaluation by eyes both official and hidden.
One of those eyes approached them now.
Lieutenant Commander Shin Matsunaga. The White Wolf of Granada. Not yet publicly famed, but already a legend in hushed tones among test pilots and officers.
He didn't address them immediately. His gaze swept the prototype. Only after a long pause did he speak.
"Watching the new toys, are we?"
His eyes locked with Lelouch's. "You've got a mind, kid. Sharp. Sees what most miss." His tone turned grimmer. "But theory doesn't bleed. Simulations don't scream when the reactor cracks."
Lelouch said nothing, but a flicker of steel passed through his eyes.
Then Matsunaga turned to Tanya. His voice softened, only slightly.
"And you. Don't chase death too fast. It doesn't run far."
Tanya didn't blink. Her blue eyes burned.
The silence that followed was not awkward. It was charged.
A brief announcement rang over the hangar intercom:
"Simulation Bay Gamma. 0900 Hours. Limited prototype Zaku II testing. Observers: Mobile Suit Development personnel and attached Academy candidates."
The twins exchanged a glance. They wouldn't be spectators for long.
---
Far away, in a dim corner of the Zeon Military Academy's secure comms room, Ken Bederstadt forwarded an encrypted packet through an indirect channel, away from Granada command. He bypassed Kycilia's surveillance net by threading the transmission through low-priority maintenance uplinks.
To: Supreme Commander Gihren Zabi
Re: Surveillance Report — Zehrtfeldt Subjects
Encrypted. Direct. Off the grid.
The twins weren't just rising cadets anymore.
They were assets in motion.
And they were being watched from both sides of Zeon's two faction.
Next day at the morning.
The formal invitation arrived via secure courier, sealed with the crest of the Granada Defense Command. For Tanya and Lelouch von Zehrtfeld cadets known less for their lineage and more for their disconcerting aptitude reports—such a summons was unusual, but not entirely unexpected. The accompanying note was terse:
"Selected cadets with advanced aptitude are required to observe and report on upcoming prototype test trials at Granada Observation Gallery Alpha. Attendance is mandatory."
No explanation. No specific criteria for selection beyond the vague 'advanced aptitude'. Just an order, stamped with Dozle Zabi's seal. Their presence had been approved at the highest levels—but the air around it already reeked of something deeper than merit.
Upon arrival at Granada, the usual bustle of the spaceport gave way to corridors steeped in an almost excessive calm. The escort waiting for them wasn't the standard cadet handler, but a pair of grim-faced military police sergeants, their movements precise and eyes constantly scanning. This was the first deviation from protocol.
"Cadets von Zehrtfeld. Follow us. Maintain silence." The sergeant's voice was flat, devoid of the usual military pleasantries.
As they moved through the base, the security checkpoints multiplied—far more than necessary for a simple observation assignment. Biometric scans, unexpected bag checks despite prior clearance, armed guards stationed at irregular intervals. The second anomaly.
They were led to Observation Gallery Alpha, a large, tiered room with reinforced glass overlooking a vast, simulated urban combat zone. Other cadets were already present—a mix of scions from noble houses and serious-faced engineering students. They chattered nervously or stood awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to make of the strict atmosphere.
What truly set Tanya and Lelouch's internal alarms ringing, however, was the presence of figures rarely seen outside high-security broadcasts: defense contractors, engineering leads from major weapons firms, and a handful of influential politicians. The kind of people whose time was measured in military budgets and fleet movements. This was the third, and most telling, anomaly.
Tanya's gaze swept the room, her eyes colder and more analytical than the average cadet's. Her posture remained outwardly relaxed, but her mind raced, mapping strategic implications.
Lelouch, leaning subtly against the railing, his expression one of mild interest, allowed his violet eyes to drift across the VIPs, the arrangement of the guards, the cadence of uneasy cadet conversation. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the railing—silent code.
They hadn't spoken since the escort began, but their mutual understanding required no words.
Lelouch leaned slightly toward Tanya, voice barely a breath above the gallery's ambient hum. "This isn't a lesson," he murmured, eyes still locked on the simulated cityscape below. "It's a selection test in disguise."
Tanya didn't reply aloud. Her nod was imperceptible but absolute.
A hush fell as the announcement speaker crackled to life. "Introducing prototypes MS-04 and MS-05, undergoing simulated colonial urban assault trials. Test pilot: Commander Shin Matsunaga."
Below, two massive humanoid machines—stark green with angular builds—emerged from hidden hangar bays. Zaku IIs. Rumored to be the next-generation backbone of Zeon's war engine. Clunky at a glance, but unmistakably powerful.
Matsunaga, piloting ms-04—his personal unit marked with the "White Wolf" insignia—moved with lethal fluidity. The Zaku's heavy frame seemed to glide through the ruined cityscape, while RX-05 followed, laying suppressive fire with brutal precision.
Live rounds tore through concrete. Reactive drone armor exploded in incandescent plumes. Structures collapsed beneath the relentless assault. Even through the soundproofed glass, the shockwaves reverberated like distant thunder.
Gasps echoed through the cadet section. Some were thrilled, others pale with horror. They saw raw power. A weapon of war.
But Tanya and Lelouch weren't watching in awe. They were analyzing.
Tanya had drawn her regulation notebook, eyes tracking every step, every burst of fire. Her notes weren't about 'cool explosions'. She logged engagement ranges, reload times, heat venting delays, structural flex points, and projected fuel draw.
Lelouch took no notes—but the rhythm of his mind was faster than any pen. He wasn't admiring the power. He was dissecting its flaws.
Power cycle efficiency: How many seconds of continuous beam fire before overheating? What was the energy output of the backpack unit?
Terrain optimization: The Zaku moved well in debris, but not flawlessly. He noted subtle compensation steps—was it terrain-adaptive, or just brute force? How would it fare in space? In low gravity?
Coordination flaws: Matsunaga's unit was perfect. RX-05, however, lagged. Target lock delays. Hesitation during breach movements. Not mechanical failure—human. Was this pair operation sustainable? Was inter-unit latency addressed by Zeon's tactical doctrine?
Behind the gallery glass, watching more than the test, was Matsunaga himself. The White Wolf, arms folded, eyes unreadable. He wasn't just proving the Zaku worked—he was watching how they watched it.
A pair of men stood in the rear of the gallery, dark-uniformed and silent, murmuring into encrypted comms. Their insignia didn't match Granada's. Intelligence. Likely Gihren's. Watching Tanya and Lelouch more closely than the machines.
Some cadets whispered, side-glancing at the Zehrfeldt twins. Their reputation was spreading—not by heritage, but by rumor and simulation results. Dangerous, aloof, brilliant.
Tanya and Lelouch exchanged a glance. Silent. Coded.
This wasn't about the Zaku. It was about them.
Today, they observed. Tomorrow, they'd be in the cockpit. Matsunaga's voice still echoed in their memory:
"War isn't theory. It's fire, heat, and the moment you choose who dies."
The trial hadn't begun. It was the trial. And everyone here—engineers, officers, spies—were already casting judgment.
Let them.
They would meet that judgment head-on.