UC 0077 – Granada Testing Grounds
The sprawling expanse of UC 0077 had never felt so stifling. Inside the sleek, metallic shell of the Granada Training Facility—headquarters of Zeon's elite GED program—a low hum of machinery and the occasional hiss of hydraulic systems created an atmosphere thick with anticipation and tension. The ceiling lights flickered overhead, a reminder of the pressure pressing in from every direction, and the war growing ever nearer.
In the debriefing chamber of Simulator Bay 12, Tanya and Lelouch von Zehrtfeld lay sprawled on the cool metal floor of their pod, breathless and slick with sweat.
The endurance simulation had been brutal—twenty minutes of adaptive enemy pressure, rotating objectives, and zero-G maneuvering—all designed to push them to the brink. They had trained for this, but the weight of it still felt surreal. Success wasn't survival. Success was excellence.
A chime sounded.
"Mission evaluation complete."
The automated voice rang out, cold and clinical.
In front of them, the interface flickered to life. Reaction times. Heat dissipation. Fuel management. Tactical latency. The data flashed by, crisp and irrefutable. Each metric bore a sharp, clinical edge—a mirror to the war machine Zeon demanded them to become.
Across the chamber, Lieutenant Shin Matsunaga, commander of the GED cadre, watched in silence. His arms were folded, his posture as rigid as steel. He reviewed their results line by line with the gaze of a man who had seen countless pilots rise and fall.
Then, with a flick of his stylus, he stamped the report.
"Certified: Eligible for Full MS Cadre Advancement."
The silence that followed was not one of relief—it was of realization. The GED twins were now officially part of Zeon's elite pilot testing wing. No more trial runs. No more theory. This was the last threshold before real combat deployment.
Tanya pulled herself to her feet slowly, rubbing the back of her neck. Her bones ached. "Can you believe it?" she muttered with a breathless laugh. "We actually made it."
Lelouch stepped beside her, retrieving his helmet with steady fingers. His eyes, sharp and thoughtful, were already looking past the celebration. "It's not over. It's only just begun. Every step from here is going to be harder."
She glanced at him. "You think we're ready?"
"We'll have to be," he replied.
Tension in the facility didn't subside with their promotion. It rose, sharp as a blade. Among the other cadets, ambition flared into jealousy. Some whispered, others challenged.
A few halls down, Damon Rill, their fellow GED pilot, muttered to Seda Rehm as they watched Tanya recalibrate her Zaku simulator, "They move like they've already been to war."
"And think like it too," Seda added. "That's what scares them. No one likes fighting a ghost."
Even Matsunaga, who had offered few words of praise, noted in his private report:
"Von Zehrtfeld twins display behavioral divergence with shared cohesion. One thinks five moves ahead. The other burns instinct as fuel. Recommend continued observation. Possibly political assets."
---
Simulation training
Inside her cockpit, Tanya moved like fire—quick, reactive, unpredictable.
"Mila, Colt—split the field. I want overlapping cover on Sector Nine!" she barked.
On the far side, Lelouch led with the calm of a puppeteer.
"Damon, delay your push. Ines—launch ECM decoys, make them chase ghosts."
He wasn't just issuing commands—he was watching patterns form and fray. Where Tanya trusted instinct, Lelouch dissected structure.
He didn't think two steps ahead. He thought in shapes—shifting formations, pressure points, fault lines in the enemy's assumptions.
When Tanya's Zaku barreled toward his, Lelouch issued one final order.
"Collapse the corridor. Cut her line of retreat."
The walls of the sim folded. Tanya cursed. She was boxed in, forced to abandon the objective.
On the observation deck, Matsunaga murmured to no one in particular:
"He doesn't just play to win. He plays to reshape the board. He thinks like a Zabi."
Night Before the Storm
Later that week, the GED barracks fell into a hush. The next day would be the live-field zero-G combat test—no more simulations.
Tanya stood on the observation deck, her helmet tucked under her arm. Above her, Granada's dome revealed a breathtaking view of space. The stars shimmered like distant promises. She clenched the edge of the railing.
"Remember when we used to pretend these were dragons?" she asked softly.
Lelouch appeared beside her, holding a canteen. "We'd ride them into sunsets we couldn't see," he replied with a faint smile. "But we're not pretending anymore."
She looked away. "We'll be in real machines soon. Real weapons. This next phase—it'll decide if we live as aces, or die as footnotes."
Lelouch's voice turned firm. "Then we'll rewrite the manual. Together."
She nodded slowly. The words weren't just comfort. They were a vow.
As dawn broke across Granada's orbit, the testing field roared to life. The final evaluations were underway.
Gunnar Vaerst—Tanya's rival—watched from the corner, jaw clenched, bitter. Erich Brandt—Lelouch's—quietly observed data scrolls, eyes narrowed. Neither had forgotten past defeats. Both plotted future victories.
Tanya climbed into her suit and paused, staring at the cockpit's screen. She traced a small insignia etched beside the controls—an old symbol from their childhood. Not a dragon, but a phoenix.
She smiled.
Rise through fire.
As the Zaku units launched from the catapults and vanished into the simulated battlefield, the echoes of Zeon rang in their ears—not as commands, but as a challenge.
As the blackness of space enveloped them, the simulation chamber bloomed into a vast mock battlefield above Granada's orbit. With thrusters igniting beneath them, the Zaku units streaked through the void—each pilot a flame in the collaborative inferno of battle. Tanya's heart raced, a storm of exhilaration and responsibility. This was no ordinary trial—it was a strategic simulation commissioned directly by Zeon High Command to assess the GED unit's readiness for front-line deployment. Not just another test. This was a crucible.
"Focus, Tanya!" Lelouch's voice crackled through the comms, his tone sharp and steady. "We need to stick to the plan. Split into two flanks. They'll expect us to cluster—let's give them a surprise."
"Got it!" she responded, instincts snapping into place. Her Zaku veered eastward, its silhouette melting into the star-speckled void as she split from the primary formation. Enemy units—mocked as Federation mobile suits, complete with reactive A.I. patterns—approached fast, moving with calculated menace.
The first engagement struck like a thunderclap. Green laser fire lit up the dark expanse, beams slicing through simulated debris fields. Tanya rolled and dove, her reflexes syncing with her machine. A warning flare caught her eye—Ines, exposed on the flank, seconds from being hit.
"Ines, move! Now!" Tanya barked, opening suppressive fire to cover her. Her shots struck the edge of the enemy's arc, breaking their advance.
"Thanks, Tanya! I owe you one!" Ines responded, breathless but focused.
Elsewhere, Lelouch maneuvered from the rear—remote, analytical. "Damon, flank left and deploy countermeasures. Seda, sync support formation. Let them chase the shadows."
His HUD danced with numbers. They're pressing the center... baiting a response. Overconfidence? Or hiding something? Lelouch's thoughts clicked into place. There—enemy flagship vector's too clean. A feint.
He adjusted formation routing instantly, preempting a trap that hadn't yet sprung. This was his element—not the thrill of combat, but the orchestration of it.
Tanya, meanwhile, was in the thick of chaos. Her Zaku spun to dodge another barrage. Then—a shadow loomed. A heavy-type Zaku—reinforced plating, upgraded sim loadout—zeroed in on her.
"Dodge!" Lelouch's voice sliced through the haze.
She yanked her throttle, igniting every reserve thruster. Her Zaku screamed leftward, evading a plasma burst that scorched past by mere meters. Her heart pounded, but her focus sharpened.
She retaliated. Twin shots struck the enemy unit's shoulder, staggering it just enough. Behind her, Damon called out, "We need to turn this around! Cover the retreat! Regroup and reset formation!"
The word hung heavy. Retreat.
Tanya's mind flashed with doubt. Was this how it would be in real combat? Lives on the line—not numbers on a screen. We trained for this, but the difference is crushing.
"All units, cover Tanya. Prepare for a pincer maneuver. Focus fire on my signal," Lelouch commanded, voice iron-clad.
The team responded with sharp efficiency. The GED pilots surged inward, synchronizing fire, forming a steel net around Tanya. Red tracer rounds lit up the battlefield in an elegant spiral of suppressive arcs.
"Let's do it!" Tanya roared, her voice carrying more than confidence—it carried faith. They surged forward as one.
The enemy wavered.
Then came the turning point—an alert blared across the cockpit: "Flagship Signature Detected – Heavy-Class Ingress."
A Muspelheim-class simulated Federation flagship surged into view. Bristling with batteries and flanked by two Magellan-type shadows, it broke the field's balance.
"Lelouch!" Tanya called, the spike of tension unmistakable.
"Stay focused," he replied. "Disable the main cannon. We do that, we win. Tanya, take left approach. Damon, cut their sightlines with smoke. Seda, mark all targeting beacons for concentrated strike."
They moved. Not as cadets, but as a unit.
Tanya's Zaku soared beneath the simulated debris cloud, finding blind spots with instinctual grace. This was the rhythm. Not war games. War.
Within minutes, they were on the offensive. Coordinated volleys smashed into the flagship's command deck. Explosions rocked the simulation field. The system flickered. The exercise terminated.
Simulation Complete – Strategic Victory Achieved: 92.4% Efficiency
Inside the control room, Lieutenant Matsunaga folded his arms, eyes narrowed at the result. Behind him, a silent observer in formal Zeon dress took notes. The observer wore no name tag, but bore Kycilia's sigil on their collar.
"These twins... they're not just tacticians or hotshots," Matsunaga muttered. "They're leaders. The kind that survive what's coming."
Post-Simulation Observation Deck
Later, as cooling fans hummed and the smell of ozone lingered, Tanya and Lelouch stood beneath the window of the simulation bay. The stars shimmered beyond the glass.
"You hesitated," Lelouch said gently.
"Only for a second," Tanya replied.
"That's all it takes," he warned, but his voice lacked judgment.
She nodded, solemn. "I felt it, Lelouch. Not fear. Something else."
He tilted his head, curious. "What?"
"Weight. Like I wasn't just playing anymore. Like those beams could really kill me."
"They will," Lelouch said. "Sooner or later, this simulation becomes reality. Our rivals, our squad... all of it. But if we're ready—"
"—we survive," she finished, meeting his gaze.
They stood there quietly, watching the field reset, the next trial already being prepped. Their fates, sealed in digital memory and political reports, were already on the lips of Zeon's command structure.
But for now, they were just two siblings in a quiet moment, the echoes of war stirring just beyond the glass.