"Why did he suddenly pass out?" Murrue looked at the Jegan brought back by the work machine, now powerless, confused. "Christina, does Roz have some illness?"
"…Do you believe in the existence of ghosts in space?" Christina asked, glancing at the mess in the hangar, where people were busy moving supplies and stowing mobile suits, and the escape pod Kira had picked up was temporarily set aside.
At first, Kira had thought about capturing the damaged GINN, but Badgiruel said the Archangel didn't have enough marines to guard prisoners, and since the Archangel was starting to evacuate the area, the matter was dropped.
"Space ghosts? Isn't that just an urban legend?" Mu stood beside Christina and Murrue, looking at the immobilized Jegan. "We're all adults, and you still believe in this?"
"…Alright, I'll put it in a way you can accept." Christina didn't force Murrue or Mu to believe in space ghosts; after all, they hadn't seen Roz's reaction when passing through the Junius 7 ruins.
No doubt, Roz's fainting this time was for the same reason as before: seeing the ghosts of Junius 7.
"You can understand it this way: the wreckage of Junius 7 has a very strong magnetic field, or some kind of electromagnetic waves—basically, there's interference for unknown reasons." Christina picked up the tablet and began checking Jegan's life detection system.
"And Roz's brainwave intensity is stronger than normal people, even stronger than Coordinators. In the environment of Junius 7, Coordinators might feel sadness, but Roz sees… not-so-pleasant things. It puts extreme pressure on his mind." Seeing the data on the tablet, Christina exhaled slightly in relief.
The data showed Roz's brainwaves gradually returning to normal after a period of peak activity, and his physical condition had no major issues apart from excessive sweating.
"…I see." Mu squinted slightly, looking at Jegan quietly standing in the hangar. "Why didn't he tell us? Otherwise, either Murrue or I would have stopped him from going out…"
"If he had told you, you wouldn't have come here and gotten these supplies," Christina said, looking at Mu and Murrue. "It's precisely because he recognized you as comrades that he chose to come here—to ensure his comrades survive."
"If you want to thank him, just keep living—steadily, without giving up," Christina said, turning to look at Jegan in the hangar. "Even like me, even with a damaged body, you have to survive to help him do something."
"I see…" Mu shrugged helplessly. "You know, people like us don't know when we'll die on the battlefield."
"But I'll try my best to survive. Captain Murrue too, right?"
"…That's hard to say, but I'll try," Murrue replied. She glanced at Badgiruel, who had arrived with the marines, then turned to Christina.
"Speaking of which, I checked the Archangel's surveillance before. The prosthetics you have—did Roz specially make them? I don't recall seeing such specifications in circulation."
"…Strictly speaking, apart from my brain, Roz made the rest of my body," Christina said, slightly bowing her head, her red hair partially covering her eyes so Murrue couldn't see them clearly.
"When he rescued us from that hell, only our brains were left."
"To make us human again, he built our current bodies, including the weapons we requested to be installed."
"Actually, we had already prepared ourselves mentally to never live as humans again, but Roz said…"
Christina raised her hand to her chest.
The tactile system relayed the feeling of the bionic mechanical heart beating rhythmically, no different from her original body.
The feeling of "being alive," that is, Christina's sensation as a human.
"Eating, sleeping, breathing… these are things we should experience. No matter how damaged we are, he still wants to restore us to humans."
Christina looked at Jegan, her gaze resting on the cockpit surrounded by medical staff.
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While being brought back to the hangar by Badgiruel piloting the engineering machine, Roz was still chatting with that black-eyed Haro in his mental world.
"In short, the body the Courtyard made for you is the materialization of your soul concept."
Haro's tone was like a corporate worker who'd been overworking for months and suddenly got a long vacation—relaxed.
"And inside your body, the Courtyard fixes and grants you two things: evolutionary seeds to strengthen your body, and abilities materialized from your soul concept."
"Is this why I became a Newtype, and why I could create the Jegan myself?"
Roz realized the origin of his "talent" after talking with Haro.
"To be precise, this is the foundation, and your uniqueness turned it into a magnificent spectacle."
Haro suddenly shifted from a relaxed tone to a serious one.
"The Courtyard has no shortage of geniuses, whether Newtypes or those with the concept skill called Thought Pursuit, many have appeared."
"Your uniqueness lies in the evolutionary seeds in your body, which let you skip the ordinary human evolutionary path and reach a high average level."
Haro projected a roadmap from his eyes and began explaining.
"You jumped from ordinary human directly to Newtype. Normally, a human must reach Seed, then Reformers… progressing step by step. Your evolutionary seeds not only passively and permanently strengthen your body in combat, but also make your body downward-compatible."
"This is rare in the mecha warfare system; we've only seen similar cases in other power systems, like fantasy or magic-based enforcers."
"So that's how it is for me?" Roz scratched his head. While he didn't fully understand the value, he roughly realized he belonged to a special category.
"Your ability has also mutated… Normally, the Thought Pursuit skill connects directly to the Courtyard, drawing designs from endless worlds."
The projection changed to several unfamiliar people, who, with flashes of light, produced various weapons.
"Your ability, without connecting to the Courtyard, only relying on images in your memory, automatically gathered this world's technology tree, filtered it, and embedded it into your mobile suit design. The high-energy battery-powered Jegan you use now is proof."
"Are there many people with skill sets like mine?" Roz, curious about the abstract nature of his skills, asked.
"There are many Newtypes paired with Thought Pursuit, very many, but in the entire Courtyard, very few. Those with both abilities positively mutated are even rarer."
Haro ended the projection and wiggled the oval wings on his head.
"Let's stop here for now. You should wake up; I've detected that your cockpit has already been opened by your companions."
With that, Roz felt a strong dizziness, as if he were being spun inside a washing machine.
"No matter what, even though this world is the ultimate terminal branch of a SEED-type near-destruction worldline, with a bit of outside interference, the overall danger isn't high. Consider this your onboarding training. The mission is to remove destructive factors and preserve this worldline."
"Wake up, and we'll meet in the conscious world."
The dizziness gradually faded, and Roz instinctively opened his eyes.
In his blurred vision, he saw the doctors on the Archangel trying to lift the completely weakened Roz out of the cockpit.
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"The doctors said Roz isn't in any life-threatening condition; it looks like he fainted from overfatigue and exhaustion… he'll be fine after some rest."
Badgiruel, now back in her usual uniform, arrived at the escape pod Kira had brought back with a few marines and turned to look at Murrue, who had just walked over.
From the design alone, compared to Earth's simple geometric style, this escape pod clearly had ZAFT design elements. Otherwise, Badgiruel wouldn't have called the marines over.
"Mu has already gone with the doctors to take Roz to the medical bay."
"Mm, I know. Thank you, Natarle."
Murrue nodded and glanced at the escape pod Kira had brought back.
At this moment, Kira had just changed into his uniform and came into the hangar with his companions.
"Kira, it seems Roz wasn't wrong— you really have potential as a space scavenger."
Seeing Kira arrive, Badgiruel placed her hands on her hips and, for the first time in a while, made a small joke.
"Seems you really like picking things up."
Having solved the supply issue and shaken off ZAFT, even the usually serious Badgiruel subconsciously relaxed a little.
"Uh… sorry?"
Kira scratched his head, embarrassed—it was already the second time he'd retrieved an escape pod.
"No need to apologize. Fortunately, we got a lot of supplies this time; rescuing one or two more civilians won't be a problem." Murrue patted Kira on the shoulder, calming his nerves.
"When we reach the lunar base, we can arrange for the civilians to evacuate from the Archangel."
"Ah… thank you, Captain Murrue."
Kira exhaled in relief at Murrue's words.
"Everyone, get ready. I'm opening this escape pod!"
Madock, standing by the pod and controlling a tablet, shouted to those nearby.
The marines raised their guns, ready to restrain anyone inside the pod.
"Pffft…" With a hiss of released pressure, the pod door opened.
Everyone tensed.
"Haro… Haro…"
But accompanied by a crisp electronic sound, a pink sphere flapped its two oval wings and floated out.
The sudden occurrence left everyone momentarily stunned.
"Haro… Lacus…"
As the pink Haro floated out, a voice came from the escape pod.
"Thank you all, and thank you for your hard work."
When everyone regained their senses, a pink figure floated out of the escape pod.
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Roz slept soundly for the first time without sensing the wailing of the space ghosts' resentment.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the familiar ceiling of the medical bay.
To be honest, ever since coming aboard the Archangel, Roz had been spending a lot of time in the medical bay; he had even considered asking Murrue if he could move in there.
"You're awake, Mr. Roz?"
At that moment, the temporary ship doctor, who was organizing medical supplies, noticed Roz waking and came over with a stethoscope to check him.
"You've recovered well, but I recommend you rest a bit more, Mr. Roz."
After a brief check, the doctor put the stethoscope away.
"Please wait here a moment; I've already notified Miss Christina and Miss Badgiruel."
"Natarle? Why notify them?" Roz asked, pulling out the needle from the back of his left hand and sitting up.
"That was my request."
Before the doctor could answer, the medical bay door opened.
Badgiruel, in her uniform, walked in, with Christina following behind.
"Yo, have you finished collecting the supplies?" Roz raised his right hand in greeting.
The doctor, after briefly observing the scene, smiled and left the medical bay.
"…The Archangel has finished gathering supplies and is moving toward the lunar base."
Badgiruel paused for a moment before speaking.
"I've heard about your situation from Captain Murrue and Christina… you should have told us earlier."
"If I had told you earlier, we would have abandoned the supplies and probably died halfway there." For some reason, Roz could feel what Badgiruel was feeling at that moment—a sense of resistance and fear at the possible death of a comrade.
Why could he sense her emotions? Was it the power gained from resonating with the ghosts of Junius 7?
Roz didn't know. But he understood one thing clearly.
"It's better that only I am affected than doing nothing and letting everyone die halfway."
"…I'm sorry… but I still hope that next time you make sure to explain things to us, keep your operations within our support range, and maintain communication. Otherwise, whether the Archangel loses a unit of combat power or we lose a comrade, it's something we cannot accept."
"You told Christina once, right? That you wanted her to live like us—but at the same time, you have to survive too." Badgiruel lowered her head, thought for a moment, then looked Roz straight in the eyes.
"And… thank you."
Roz smiled at Badgiruel's quietly spoken words of thanks.
Then, pretending to be casual, he held his stomach. "Ah, after dealing with all that chaos for so long, I'm hungry. Natarle, what's on the mess hall menu today?"
Roz's attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere and change the subject made Badgiruel, for some reason, exhale in relief.
But then she quickly returned to her usual tone, firmly replying, "I don't know."
"Come on, Christina, you must be hungry too. Let's go to the mess hall together—I heard officers can eat extra." Roz got out of bed, put on his shoes, grabbed his jacket, and beckoned the two of them to follow.
"…I need to organize the ammunition supplies, so I won't go." Badgiruel looked at Roz's smiling face; for some reason—maybe infected by his smile—she suddenly smiled too.
"But on the Archangel, officers' portions might not be as big as the pilots'."
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Roz, accompanied by Christina, made his way toward the mess hall.
Along the way, they occasionally saw some civilians. When they noticed Roz, they seemed to want to say something, but ultimately just silently avoided him.
Although it wasn't as clear as a face-to-face conversation, Roz could slightly sense their emotions.
Gratitude for Roz protecting them, inner guilt for scavenging resources from the Junius 7 wreckage, fear of Christina… these were the main emotions forming their complex thoughts.
Some of the children were simpler; they were purely scared by the scene of Christina wielding the mantis blade, which made them hide.
"Ah… sometimes being too sensitive to emotions isn't such a good thing," Roz muttered. Seeing the occasional silence along the way, he spoke jokingly to engage Christina in conversation.
"…You slept very soundly today. I didn't hear from the doctor that you had any nightmares," Christina began, commenting on Roz's condition.
"Those space ghosts… are you immune to their influence now?"
"…Rather than immune, I'd say I've reconciled with them." Roz smiled and pointed to his head. "Back on Junius 7, even though my mind almost exploded back then, I managed to reconcile with them."
"Ah… from now on, you still shouldn't do such dangerous things." Christina suddenly sighed. "Although you're a bit wooden when it comes to emotions, your knowledge and talent are irreplaceable."
"Oh, the world is big; there will always be geniuses stronger than me." Roz waved his hand. "Besides, I guess it's a blessing in disguise—my perception ability has improved a bit."
"For example, I bet there's someone arguing in the mess hall…"
When Roz entered the mess hall, he saw two people confronting each other—or rather, one-sidedly confronting.
On one side was Flay in a pink dress, and on the other was a woman with long pink hair and a star hairclip, giving the impression that whoever loses has to hand over their pink to the winner.
Compared to Flay's sharp attitude, the pink-haired woman looked somewhat confused.
"Ah… maybe I should have come a bit later?"
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