Later, Earth Federation Survivor Camp - Edge of the Ruins
The camp had been hastily set up with salvage materials and medical tents. Survivors—both civilians and Federation personnel—gathered like scattered remnants of a once-proud nation.
General Varn Halsten, one of the few high-ranking officers still alive, stood before a battered map spread across a crate. His face was lined with fatigue and ash, but his voice remained firm.
> "We've lost our command. We've lost our heart. But we're not done yet."
The gathered soldiers and engineers, many still in shock, looked to him with silent hope.
Varn pointed west.
> "The only safe haven now is the Moon. The Lunar Colony still holds. It has food, shelter, and weapons. But to get there, we need to reach Elysion Elevator—the only functioning orbital platform left on Earth."
The map showed a ruined continent scarred with enemy drop zones, collapsed cities, and crumbling infrastructure.
> "It's nearly 2,000 kilometers west. And we're low on everything—fuel, rations, mobile suits… people. We move slow, and we move together. Civilians and soldiers both."
> "We estimate two months of hard travel. No second chances. No safe zones. If Camelot finds us again..."
He didn't finish.
Instead, his eyes fell on Nura, who stood quietly with a bloodstained jacket, staring at the horizon.
> "We need every pilot. Every able soldier. You—"
> "Ferius Nura."
His voice was barely audible.
> "You survived Bedivere and Bors," Varn said. "That makes you the only pilot here with real combat experience against Camelot."
> "Doesn't mean I won," Nura muttered.
Varn looked at him. "Doesn't matter. You're alive. And you carry the will of someone who didn't make it."
There was silence. Then, Nura nodded. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists.
> "I'll do it," he said. "I'll help protect them."
Varn nodded once. "Then you're with me. We move at dawn."
---
[Outside the ruined city, a few weeks into the march west]
The caravan had come to a slow halt beneath the skeletal remains of a shattered orbital relay station. Fuel was running low. Mobile suits needed maintenance. Morale among civilians was thinning like air on a dying world.
Nura sat outside the Scorpio cockpit, cleaning a broken comms unit. His knuckles still ached from gripping the controls too hard during the last skirmish.
Suddenly—
> BOOM—!
A flare arced into the twilight sky from the cliffside ridge.
Mobile suits scrambled into formation. Command shouts rang out.
From the dusted edge of the broken road, a convoy approached—tattered flags with a burning eagle emblem fluttered. And in front rode a crimson mecha, older than most models, but painted with proud care. Atop it stood a man with a weathered face, a long grey coat, and a wide-brimmed officer's cap.
The convoy stopped. Silence fell.
> General Varn Halsten stepped forward, rifle on his back, not raised.
"Lower your weapons," said General Kurein, the camp's commander. "He bears the banner of—wait, that's impossible…"
> "I thought the Red Flame Division was wiped out during the Lunar Exodus."
> "They were," Nura whispered.
---
[Moments later, inside the command tent]
The makeshift war room was thick with tension. The rebel commander sat at the long table with his gloves off, his hands scarred and cracked with age.
General Varn Halsten, former Earth Federation war hero—declared MIA during the Orbital Collapse Wars.
> "So," Halsten began, voice hoarse but clear, "you're the ones dragging civilians into Camelot's jaws."
General Kurein slammed the table. "We are trying to save what's left of humanity!"
Halsten leaned forward, gaze unwavering.
> "By dragging them to a Moon government that abandoned Earth to rot? I've seen their cities. Their opulence. They will not welcome you. You're not citizens. You're liabilities."
Nura narrowed his eyes. "Then what do you propose?"
Halsten turned to him now. "You. You're the one who took down one of the Camelot Knights, aren't you?"
> Nura said nothing. Just clenched his jaw.
"Your name?"
> "Nura."
Halsten nodded. "Well then, Nura, let me offer you a choice. We have fuel. Parts. And a secure path. But not for free. If you want the help of the Resistance, then fight for it. Not just with weapons—but with purpose."
Nura frowned. "What do you mean?"
Halsten stood, pulled aside a tarp to reveal a damaged Gundam frame, scorched but ancient, its chest unit bearing the same flaming eagle emblem.
> "Camelot is not just a kingdom. It's a symbol. To destroy a symbol, you need another. The people need hope—rebellion needs a sword."
He looked Nura dead in the eyes.
> "I want you to lead it."
Silence hung in the air.
> "I'm not a leader," Nura said, voice tight. "I'm not a hero. I'm just… trying to survive."
Halsten cracked a tired smile. "That's exactly why you must. You've lost someone in this war, haven't you?"
> "...Yes."
"Then fight. Not for revenge. Not for old flags. Fight for the ones who can't. If you keep crawling west, you'll just end up at someone else's mercy again."
> "I..."
"Make a choice."
> "Let me think it first."
---
[Later that night, outside camp]
Nura stood near the wreckage of an old MS, gazing at the starless sky. General Halsten walked up beside him.
> "You'll need to make a choice soon. Either fight with us, or walk away. But the road ahead… only gets bloodier."
Nura didn't answer right away.
He looked at his hands—scarred, burned, trembling.
Then clenched them.
> "I'll fight. But not for your revolution. I'll fight for the ones who can't lift a rifle anymore. For the ones we buried. For People."
> "Good," Halsten said, offering a cigarette. "Because Camelot won't wait."
> "I'm not smoking"
> "Aw, sucks."
---
[Hidden Underground Hangar – Rebel Stronghold]
The air was damp. Cool, metallic. The walls pulsed faintly with generator hums, deep beneath the scorched Earth.
Nura followed General Kurein Halsten into the chamber, past armed guards and engineers with soot on their cheeks. Every footstep echoed with a foreboding weight. It didn't feel like walking into a hangar.
It felt like walking into history.
And then… the lights turned on.
A blast of fluorescent light swept the darkness away, revealing the towering silhouette of a mobile suit—no—something more.
A Gundam.
Its armor gleamed with reinforced alloy, deep black and white and gray with mixed rust, like a knight born in shadow. Unlike other mobile suits, it had no ranged weaponry mounted. Instead, a massive high-frequency many sword was latched on its back, along with two vibration daggers at the hips. Its shoulders were broader, built for close-quarters, and its frame pulsed with internal muscle actuators meant for explosive melee movement.
The head had a three-pronged V-fin, smaller than standard—but unmistakable.
It was a Gundam.
> "What… is this…?" Nura whispered.
He took a step back, breath hitching in his throat. The image of Gundam Malaya, its star-shaped core glowing red as it pierced Earth's heart, flashed through his mind.
This wasn't just a machine. It was a crime.
His eyes widened. The panic surged.
> "You—!" Nura grabbed General Kurein by the collar, shaking him with a force he didn't know he still had.
"Why do you have a Gundam?!"
The entire hangar went silent. Guards raised weapons—but Halsten raised his hand calmly, gesturing them down.
Nura's voice cracked.
> "Do you know what this means?! What the hell are you thinking?! Gundams were banned! The entire universe agreed! After Malaya—after what it did…!"
Kurein didn't resist the grip. He looked Nura square in the eye.
> "And yet here we are," he said coldly.
"Camelot built seven of them."
Nura's fists slowly unclenched.
> "They broke the taboo," Halsten continued. "We followed suit. We had to. If monsters wear crowns, then we will need demons to strike them down."
He turned his back to Nura and faced the machine.
> "This isn't a weapon of conquest," he said.
"It's a final answer."
Nura looked at the Gundam again. This time, not with horror.
But with recognition.
It wasn't noble like the Scorpio. It wasn't elegant like Bedivere or fortified like Bors.
It was raw, forged to kill up close and fast.
A weapon meant to fight monsters in their own hell.
> "What's its name?" Nura asked, voice now steady.
Halsten exhaled.
> "Gundam Thanatos."
Nura stared.
The name alone carried the weight of a reaper.
> "And you want me to pilot it?" he said.
Halsten turned back to him.
> "You're the only one who stood toe to toe with Camelot's hounds and survived. The machine rejected the last three candidates. But if Thanatos accepts you…"
He paused.
> "You might be the only one who can stop what's coming."
---
Scene: Rebel Camp – Hours After Gundam Reveal
The revelation of Gundam Thanatos sent shockwaves across the entire resistance camp.
In the makeshift mess halls, conversations were tense. Whispers rose between bowls of ration soup and cracked cups of recycled tea. The survivors—civilians, soldiers, medics—eyed Nura like a man reborn in fire. Some with awe. Others with suspicion.
In the tent just beyond the hangar, a heated argument was reaching its boiling point.
> "You brought that thing here?!"
A grizzled pilot—Lieutenant Kaedin Muth—slammed his prosthetic fist on the table.
"Gundams are why we're here! Why Earth burned!"
Opposite him, General Kurein Halsten remained calm, flanked by a small hologram display of Thanatos.
> "And they are the only weapons powerful enough to fight back," Halsten replied.
"You saw what Camelot did to the Federation. You saw Bors fall—"
> "And how many fell with him?!" Kaedin barked. "That boy brought an entire city down just trying to scratch their armor!"
The room quieted.
Nura, standing in the doorway, lowered his eyes.
> "I didn't have a choice," he muttered.
"Graven… she died for nothing if we stop now."
The tent grew silent again.
An older woman, dressed in tattered civilian clothes and a scarf worn from years of ash storms, stood up.
> "My family burned in the orbital fall. My daughter is still missing. But I'll say this: if that Gundam gives us even a chance, I'll support it."
Others murmured in agreement. A younger pilot leaned forward.
> "If Camelot broke the rules first… then maybe it's time we stop playing fair."
Kaedin sat back, jaw clenched. His metal fist trembled slightly.
> "Just don't lose control," he growled. "Because if Thanatos goes berserk like Malaya did—"
He didn't finish.
But the message was clear.
---
The cockpit of the machine hissed open with a sharp exhale of cold air.
Nura stepped inside, and the hatch sealed behind him with a heavy thud—locking him into silence. The only sound was his own breath.
The cockpit wasn't like any other mobile suit he had seen—not even Scorpio. Its design was alien. The panels were made of unfamiliar alloy, the console minimal and skeletal, as though this machine was built for one purpose: destruction.
The pilot seat fit his body instantly, and as soon as his hands touched the twin controls, the entire cockpit came to life.
> "...System Activating..."
A single line of text appeared on the HUD. The display shimmered with deep red light.
> "Pilot neural signature: recognized."
"Core link established."
"MALAYA SYSTEM: ONLINE."
Nura's eyes widened.
> "Malaya System…?" he whispered. "No way…"
There was no voice. No artificial intelligence. No welcoming prompt or protocol briefing. Only the silent display of cold information that pulsed across the curved screens.
For a moment, he felt a strange pull—as if the machine was trying to reach into his thoughts. It felt too easy. Every movement he made, the suit responded with flawless fluidity. Too perfect. Too in sync.
> "Test unit: Thanatos is fully operational," crackled a voice from the engineering hangar. "Proceed with calibration movements."
Nura didn't respond.
His hands moved instinctively. He pressed the thrusters. The Gundam's legs bent slightly, and it moved forward with terrifying grace—quiet, like a predator in the dark.
The mechanics outside flinched as Thanatos stepped off the loading platform.
The heavy machine didn't shake the floor or make noise like conventional mobile suits. It was silent.
Too silent.
> VMMM—SHHHHH—KRRR!
Energy surged through the sword compartment. Nura pulled it out. The blade vibrated with raw power, emitting waves of heat that warped the air.
A moment later, red warning prompts flashed across the monitors.
> "WARNING: Overload risk. Regulate energy output."
"WARNING: Core temperature rising."
Nura was breathing faster now.
> "What is this thing…?" he muttered.
There was no answer.
Only silence… and the humming resonance of something ancient, and angry, buried deep within the frame of the Gundam.
He looked at the HUD again:
> "MALAYA SYSTEM — SYNCHRONIZATION: 67%"
"CAUTION: PILOT COMPATIBILITY — UNSTABLE"
His heart pounded.
No one had told him what this system was. No one explained why a Gundam—something banned across all of Earth and its colonies—was lying dormant beneath the rebel outpost.
And now it was awake.