"Naturally, we must recruit him."
Faced with Mihessia's question, Hathaway Noa made the decision almost without hesitation.
"Although we aren't short on MS thanks to General Quack and funding from Anaheim, we are short on pilots—especially pilots as powerful as this one."
Hathaway recalled the combat scenes he had just witnessed and lowered his head slightly.
"We must seize this opportunity."
"But... according to the intelligence provided by General Quack, Kimberly's forces are preparing an operation in Oenbelli very soon."
Mihessia did not argue with Hathaway's decision. On the contrary, gaining more pilots to sustain or even expand their operations was something they all desired.
"Heading there at this point in time is a bit too dangerous."
"Yes, and for that very reason, we need to be even more cautious and plan meticulously."
Hathaway finished the last sip of coffee in his cup and packed away the laptop on the table.
"Besides, regarding this Mafty Army of so many people... General Quack most likely won't drive them to total extinction. There must be a key to breaking the deadlock."
How could Hathaway not see General Quack's motive for funding Mafty?
It was no different from Anaheim's strategy: establish an enemy for the Federation to profit from within their own system, much like the Zeon Remnants of the past.
Yet, it was precisely this deeply entrenched, interconnected system of conflicting interests—where one side existed within the other—that allowed the current Mafty to survive.
-----------------------------------
At this moment, inside the Nahel Argama, which had just finished its submerged transit to the junction of the Atlantic and Indian Oceans and was now surfacing.
Roz Links was in the Hangar, conducting training inside the cockpit of the Sinanju.
Even though he had fully mastered the Sinanju's performance, Roz Links believed that extra practice could never hurt.
Regarding this "neglect," the machine spirit of the Penelope, "AllMind," voiced a few distinct complaints to Roz. However, she had no intention of causing a disturbance just to get attention.
Ultimately, AllMind was born from—and evolved out of—a copy of the Unicorn's machine spirit.
They were like twins of the same person in different worlds; for them, "love" for Roz was embedded in their root code. Creating chaos or betrayal was never an option.
Still, Roz realized that sometimes, having too many machine spirits could be a bit of a headache. In the end, he managed to coax AllMind into a state of mechanical bliss by promising, "I'll need to pilot you for an upcoming deployment."
As one training session ended and Roz prepared for a second round, Big Haro interrupted his next move over the comms channel.
"Roz, I think I may have found where Char is."
As she spoke, Big Haro projected a feed onto the panoramic cockpit screen. It was an internal POV labeled "GM II," showing the pilot successfully escaping after destroying a Jegan Type-D.
Roz frowned slightly as he watched the footage.
"This video... where did it come from?"
Roz tapped the touchscreen next to his pilot's seat, replaying certain segments and scrutinizing the details.
"A forum called the Mafty Underground Resistance Network. This video is going viral across the underground boards."
Big Haro identified the source of the video. "This footage originated from Florida."
Then, as if remembering a crucial detail, she paused before continuing.
"Furthermore, the uploader, Damien, has made a high-profile announcement on the forum that he is heading to Oenbelli, Australia, to join the Mafty forces."
"Hmm... very much his style."
Roz took his hand off the screen and leaned back in his seat. "In all likelihood, the creator of this video is Char."
"After all, that kind of flying kick... in a terrestrial environment while piloting a GM II? No normal person could pull that off."
As someone who frequently utilized flying kicks himself, Roz knew exactly how difficult that maneuver was under gravity—especially in an underpowered GM II. That raised the difficulty level significantly.
"So, the next step is to head to Oenbelli, Australia, and catch Char?" Big Haro's small sub-unit wobbled next to Roz's seat as she asked.
"Exactly... According to the original plan, we'll head straight to Australia to intercept him."
Roz pondered for a moment before making a decision.
"I'll operate on the ground with Nagisa Shiota's special ops team. No MS, just firearms. My Psycho-Frame sensitivity should allow me to sense him."
"Only firearms?"
Big Haro sounded surprised by Roz's decision. "Isn't that too dangerous?"
After all, they would be operating right under the nose of the Federation. With only pistols and rifles—even with three cybernetically enhanced spec-ops soldiers—Big Haro couldn't feel at ease. Moreover, Australia was currently a chaotic melting pot with the Man Hunter units, the Kimberly unit, and the Mafty Army all converging there. A major battle was likely imminent.
"That's why I'll need everyone to provide cover," Roz nodded. "When the time comes, you'll help me by deploying the MS and extracting Nagisa's team."
"Also, tell Graham Aker to get ready. He'll be the mainstay for the upcoming support operation. It's time for some real combat."
-----------------------------------
Since the dawn of the UC era and the onset of space colonization, the unification of political power under the Earth Federation had diluted the traditional concept of nations.
Former national titles were retained only as names for vast geographical regions.
Borders between these regions became largely unobstructed, with only a few locations retaining border walls due to historical remnants.
Most customs work had shifted its focus toward the traffic between Earth and space.
The American region still possessed some ruins of border walls along the Mexican border for historical reasons, but no such barriers existed between it and other northern territories. This provided Char with significant convenience in bypassing Federation searches on his way toward Australia.
After the skirmish in Florida, the American regional authorities had maintained a high level of scrutiny regarding the pilot who managed to defeat Jegans with a GM II, leading to heightened security at many major ports.
After nearly a week of travel, Char and his group easily drove across regional border lines. They bypassed Federation searches in Canada, chartered a ship, and sailed directly for Australia. Upon arrival, they rented a vehicle and finally reached Oenbelli.
"I didn't expect... that getting in would be this easy," Pete remarked, looking around in surprise. The streets of Oenbelli were plastered with posters bearing the Mafty symbol, and indignant citizens stood in parks delivering impassioned speeches.
"Aside from a few Oenbelli locals, most of these people are part of the Mafty Army that joined later."
Dressed in jeans, a red shirt under a green jacket, and wearing sunglasses, Char watched the scene inside a small tavern with keen interest.
Inside the tavern, a makeshift podium had been set up. The speaker was delivering a speech that would be considered "high treason" in any Federation-controlled zone, using incredibly fiery language. "In an environment like this, such a scene is perfectly normal," Char noted.
"But the density of Federation troops we saw while circling in was so high... it's like Oenbelli is completely surrounded," Pete said worriedly, recalling the Federation units clearly patrolling and monitoring the area as they arrived. "I bet a fight is going to break out here very soon."
"What? You were brave enough to rob a bank before, but now you're scared of going to war with the Federation?" Char looked at Pete with an amused glint in his eyes.
"Robbing a bank at most brings out a Man Hunter unit; you can usually lose them if you take a detour. That time we got locked on was only because we ran straight into them..." Pete complained. "But what's coming next is clearly a war... those are two very different things!"
Recalling the sequence of events that led him from Florida to Oenbelli, Pete couldn't help but sigh. Fate truly worked in mysterious ways; he never imagined that after all his wandering, a scoundrel like him would end up at the "Mafty Headquarters."
'I just hope they don't dig up my criminal record and execute me on the spot,' he thought.
With those thoughts in mind, Pete pulled the pickup truck over at a shopping mall.
"We're going to grab some burgers or something to fill our stomachs. You coming?" Pete pointed to a nearby burger joint.
"No, I think I'll just wander around the mall for a bit," Char declined, shaking his head. "We'll regroup later and head to the Mafty headquarters."
"Fine then, you eccentric guy. Suit yourself." Pete hopped out of the truck and led his remaining companions toward the burger shop.
Being far from home, seeing his companions die in battle, and facing the looming threat of a small-scale war had left Pete's heart a tangled mess of emotions; he desperately needed a burger and cola combo to suppress his frustration.
Char watched Pete walk away before stepping into the shopping mall in front of him.
In truth, aside from the ubiquitous Mafty posters, Oenbelli wasn't much different from any other city.
The mall still sold various goods, though thanks to the presence of the "Mafty Army," there were no Man Hunter units conducting sudden residency permit checks in the aisles.
"So much vitality... it doesn't feel like a place under siege at all," Char mused. He walked into a shop, scanning the various outdoor survival tools on display.
"Life has to go on... after all, my family has lived on this land for generations."
The shop owner, seeing Char's apparent interest, habitually stepped forward. "See anything you like, traveler?"
"Just looking around," Char replied, brushing him off. "I'll let you know if I need help."
"Fair enough. Just call out if you need anything." The owner shrugged and didn't push the issue; some customers simply preferred their peace and quiet. "Still, you look awfully familiar... I feel like I've seen you somewhere before."
"...Is that so?" Hearing the owner's remark, Char's expression remained unchanged, but the muscles beneath his clothes were already tensed, ready for a sudden escape. "I get that sometimes."
"Who was it? I can't quite place it..." The owner scratched his head, trying to recall where he had seen Char's likeness.
Just then, in the electronics store across from the shop, the daily scheduled broadcast began to play.
"...and so, anti-Federation movements like the Titans were born..."
Hearing that familiar voice—his own—Char's eyes widened slightly behind his sunglasses. He turned sharply toward the source of the sound.
The television screens in the electronics store had shifted to a yellow background featuring the Mafty symbol.
One of the screens was playing footage from UC 0093: Char Aznable, dressed in his red Zeon formal uniform, delivering his speech at Sweetwater.
"Oh! That's it! Traveler, you look just like Char!" The owner clapped his hands, finally realizing why the man looked so familiar. It was the speech he saw every day.
"But you're obviously not him... I mean, Char has been dead for a long time." The owner didn't actually suspect this man was the legendary commander; he simply thought he bore a striking resemblance to the orator on the screen. "The world is a big place, after all. There are bound to be look-alikes."
"Yeah, exactly. I've been mistaken for him many times because of that." Char played along with the owner, though he clearly had no intention of continuing the conversation.
Watching Char captivated by the screen, the shop owner knew there was no need to linger. He watched with great amusement as the young man stood before the television—a surreal scene of Char watching Char.
"So this is... me in 0093..."
Staring at his future self in the crimson uniform, radiating charisma and authority from the podium, Char murmured in a voice too low for anyone else to catch.
Having not yet had the chance to research his own history in this timeline, Char was suddenly struck by an intense curiosity about what his older self had done.
'Why did I end up like that? After I cut down the Zabi leadership before leaving my world, did the family collapse entirely? Why did I die?' Question after question echoed in his mind.
"Ah, exactly. That's you in 0093."
Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out from behind him.
That voice... Char would never mistake it. Not long ago, he had faced its owner in a life-or-death duel!
Char spun around, coming face-to-face with a figure that was familiar yet carried a hint of strangeness.
"Amuro..."
Char's eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses as he scrutinized the "Amuro" before him.
But... why is his hair black?
"I'm here to take you back."
Roz Links, dressed in cargo pants, a white shirt, and a pilot's flight jacket, looked directly at Char. "Come with me quietly."
'Take me back... I see. Is it because a 'person from the past' has appeared in the 'future'?'
"Hmph... if you can catch me, then give it a try, Amuro."
For some reason, Char didn't feel the urge to draw his gun and trade shots. Instead, he felt a spark of inexplicable interest.
"I still want to know more about this world. I can't go back yet!"
With that, Char took off running, his escape accompanied by the background audio of his own 0093 speech blaring from the televisions.
"Don't even think about it!"
Roz shouted, sprinting after Char as the latter bolted toward the escalators.
"...Am I seeing things?"
The shop owner, who had been watching the scene with interest just a moment ago, instinctively rubbed his eyes.
As the hero who pushed back Axis, Amuro Ray had been widely publicized by the Federation; many people knew his face and the news of his disappearance.
But now, a young man who looked exactly like Char was watching Char's 0093 speech in an electronics store, only to be chased through a mall by a young man who looked remarkably like Amuro.
This "super-development" was so surreal that even the open-minded shop owner felt the world had suddenly turned into a work of fiction.
....................