The stars around Solomon Fortress burned like scattered embers — remnants of countless battles, each one whispering the same truth: Zeon was running out of time. But to the soldiers still fighting, time was a luxury long forgotten.
The Iron Serpent cruised through the defensive perimeter, her hull still scarred from the Jaburo raid. Inside the bridge, Commander Lelouch von Zehrtfeld watched the massive silhouette of Solomon grow larger in the viewport — a fortress built on pride, now trembling under the weight of desperation. He could hear the chatter of technicians, the clatter of boots across metal, and the low hum of Solomon's vast defensive guns coming online. Everything about the place felt like a kingdom built to defy death — and yet every face he passed carried the same quiet dread.
"Docking sequence complete, Commander."
"Good. Inform General Dozle that I've arrived."
The crew snapped to attention as Lelouch stepped out — tall, calm, and unreadable. His black Zeon uniform caught the dim light, the faint insignia of the Zehrtfeld line glinting at his collar. Some saluted with respect. Others watched with curiosity. The man who escaped Jaburo's firestorm had a reputation — a brilliant but distant tactician who never smiled except when the situation was dire.
And lately, all situations were dire.
The command chamber's doors slid open with a hydraulic hiss, revealing Dozle Zabi, standing before a massive tactical map. The general's imposing figure filled the room — part legend, part mountain.
"Ah! Commander von Zehrtfeld!" Dozle's booming voice echoed across the chamber. "You made it out of Jaburo alive, eh? Ha! That's more than most can say!"
Lelouch bowed slightly, his tone measured. "A commander who returns alive brings back experience, not excuses."
Dozle barked a laugh that shook the walls. "Ha! That's the spirit I like! Though I'd rather you brought Revil's head than your experience."
Lelouch's lips curved faintly — not quite a smile, but close. "Unfortunately, my blade met the wrong target this time. I'll aim sharper next time, if there is one."
Dozle waved him closer and gestured to a data slate. "You'll have your next chance soon enough. Solomon's preparing for the Federation's counterstrike. I'll need every brain and gun ready. We've received reinforcement from Luna Base — a few elites and one promising pilot I think you should meet."
The hangar was alive with noise: plasma cutters hissed, mechanics shouted, sparks rained from scaffolds as damaged units were patched for battle. Between the gray giants of Gelgoogs and Rick Doms stood a single red-painted unit, its armor gleaming under the harsh lights.
Near it, a young man straightened his uniform when Lelouch approached. His eyes widened the moment he saw the commander's face.
For a heartbeat, Tomoya Aki forgot how to breathe.
That face — the calm eyes, the aristocratic features, the exact tilt of the head — it was him. Lelouch Lamperouge, from the world he once read about in novels and anime.
No… not quite. The name was different. The tone colder. The aura heavier.
Still, the resemblance was undeniable.
"Pilot Aki," Lelouch said, his voice quiet but commanding. "I was told you performed exceptionally in the simulator tests. Your technical notes on Gelgoog beam output optimization were… impressive."
Tomoya's mind spun. He knows my name. He's talking to me.
Then, instinct overtook awe — he stood straight and saluted. "Yes, Commander von Zehrtfeld! It's an honor to serve Zeon."
Lelouch studied him for a second longer than necessary. The sharpness in the boy's eyes, the faint confusion beneath discipline — it reminded him of someone else. Someone who didn't belong in this war.
He'd seen it before in Jason Arkadi, another outsider whose mechanical intuition bordered on the divine. These people appeared out of nowhere, with knowledge Zeon engineers could only dream of. And yet, they hid behind modesty and fear, as if terrified of revealing too much.
Perhaps they were like him — summoned by fate, or by something more sinister.
Lelouch dismissed the thought. He had no proof, and dwelling on impossibilities was for fools. "You'll be assigned to the Solomon defense wing. Maintain your Gelgoog and await orders. I'll review your data personally before deployment."
Tomoya blinked. "Understood, sir."
As Lelouch turned to leave, he caught Tomoya's still-dazed stare. For a brief moment, their eyes met again — commander and subordinate, genius and dreamer, both hiding truths the other couldn't begin to guess.
When Lelouch left the hangar, Tomoya finally let out a breath. His heart pounded.
That man — that Lelouch — wasn't supposed to exist here.
Yet he did. Just like Jason Arkadi. Just like… maybe himself.
He clenched his fist, forcing the tremor away. "This world… it's not just war. It's broken," he whispered.
Elsewhere, the Zeon fleet from Luna Base — Tanya von Zehrtfeld, Char Aznable, Norris Packard, M'quve, and the remnants of the Odessa elite — burned through the void toward Solomon. Tanya stood at the Iron Serpent's observation deck, arms folded, eyes fixed on the stars.
Her brow furrowed. Something about all of this gnawed at her — the inconsistent orders, the reckless redeployments, the senseless waste. Zeon was acting like a beast driven mad by its own blood.
"Being X… is this your work again?" she muttered under her breath. "Twisting logic and leadership alike? How divine of you."
Behind her, Char's crimson Zudah gleamed through the hangar window, the improved version crafted under Jason Arkadi's supervision. Tanya turned toward it briefly, exhaling through her nose. At least something worked the way it should.
"Luna to Solomon," M'quve's voice came through the comm. "All squadrons report green. We'll arrive within six hours. I hope General Dozle appreciates this redeployment."
"Appreciates?" Tanya scoffed. "No, M'quve. He'll call it 'glorious.' And it'll cost more lives for pride."
Silence followed for a beat, then M'quve chuckled softly. "Perhaps. But we serve, Commander Zehrtfeld. Logic doesn't rule empires — faith does."
Tanya's gaze hardened. Faith… or divine mockery?
As the stars stretched before her, she whispered, "If this is your game, Being X, I'll make sure I'm the one who wins it."
Far ahead, Solomon Fortress waited — a titan in the dark, drawing in every soul still willing to fight Zeon's final war.