Music blared from the mall's speakers—some band seemed to be performing live somewhere in the building.
Amidst the frantic drum beats and electric guitar riffs, two figures—one leading, one pursuing—weaved through the crowds.
"Stop right there!"
Roz shouted, sidestepping a person blocking his path, his eyes locked firmly on Char's silhouette.
"Only if you can catch me, Amuro!"
Char laughed, sprinting straight down the escalator toward the first floor, making a mad dash for the mall's exit.
Having been torn from his own era and left utterly alone, Char felt the heavy burdens on his shoulders suddenly vanish.
This sudden void left him somewhat at a loss; he had tried to ground himself by focusing on "finding Artesia," using that goal to anchor his next moves.
This self-imposed objective had consumed him so much that he hadn't even found the time to look up his own historical records in this future.
When he saw Roz, instead of a desire for "battle," Char felt a strange sense of relief—the comfort of seeing someone from his own time.
As for why Char was so certain Roz was Amuro, it was because he could sense Roz's brainwaves. In his perception, Roz's brainwaves were virtually identical to Amuro's.
Seeing that Char was about to reach the first floor, Roz glanced at the emergency stop button for the escalator and slammed his hand down on it.
The sudden jerk of the stalling escalator caused Char to stumble, nearly sending him tumbling down the metal steps.
Char reached out and grabbed the handrail to steady himself. He glanced back just as Roz hopped onto the railing of the opposite escalator and came sliding down with practiced ease.
Seeing Roz closing the gap, Char judged the remaining height to the floor—about a meter—and vaulted over the handrail with a single hand.
A one-meter drop wasn't much, but Char still transitioned into a roll upon landing. He stood up, gave his clothes a dashing pat to shake off non-existent dust, and continued his sprint toward the mall's main entrance.
'As long as I reach that spot... as long as I get there...'
"Char! You bastard!"
Seeing Char's maneuver, Roz didn't hesitate. Even though he was still about two meters above the ground, Roz spun and vaulted over the side of the railing.
Unlike Char, who needed to roll, Roz was more direct. He landed with a slight bend of his knees to absorb the impact, suffering no loss of momentum whatsoever.
Out of the corner of his eye, Roz noticed a crowd beginning to gather and stare.
Two men chasing each other through a mall was naturally eye-catching, doubly so when it was these two.
The spectacle of "Char being chased through a mall by Amuro" was incredibly magnetic. This was Oenbelli, after all—a place where Mafty news and Char Aznable's quotes were broadcast almost constantly.
Consequently, seeing this "historic" reenactment, many members of the "Mafty Army" began to converge on the shopping mall.
Roz couldn't care less about the audience; he turned and resumed his hot pursuit of Char.
Just as Roz and Char burst out of the parking lot gates, a pickup truck suddenly swerved between them, forcing Roz to skid to a halt.
"Perfect timing!"
Char didn't even bother pulling the door handle; he dove straight through the open window into the passenger seat.
"Hold on tight!"
Pete, who had been gorging himself at the burger joint just moments ago, was now flooring the accelerator with a stray fry still hanging from his mouth.
A massive surge of G-force slammed Char back into his seat. The pickup smashed through the parking lot's toll gate arm and tore away, leaving Roz staring at its receding silhouette.
Even with his enhanced physical condition, Roz knew chasing down a speeding truck on foot was an exercise in futility.
Suddenly, a blue sedan screeched to a stop in front of him.
"Roz-san, get in! Quick!"
Nagisa Shiota was behind the wheel, hands gripped tight on the steering wheel. Roz didn't waste a heartbeat, throwing himself into the passenger side.
Before the door had even clicked shut, Nagisa floored it, the sedan darting through the gap in the broken toll gate to resume the hunt for Char's pickup.
"...Roz-san, you really caused a scene back there," Nagisa said with a touch of exasperation, his eyes locked on the target. "The news of you and Char chasing each other through the mall is already going viral. Half of Oenbelli is probably heading this way to block the roads."
"Yeah, I didn't expect to track him via telepathy only to find him window shopping."
From the front seat, Roz glanced back at Takina Inoue and Chisato Nishikigi. Chisato, being her usual overly-relaxed self, actually grinned and flashed a peace sign at Roz.
"The commotion you and Char caused seems to have triggered something... the Kimberly unit is making a move," Takina reported, her eyes flickering with streams of red data as she processed incoming intel.
"They probably think Mafty is launching an operation and decided to strike first," she continued. "Oenbelli is a small town; nothing stays hidden from Kimberly's surveillance for long... and news like this travels fast."
Chisato, however, showed no signs of tension. "Well, if Kimberly decides to crash the party, we'll just have Graham crash back."
Roz let out a heavy sigh as he calculated the impending chaos. "But if it turns into a full-scale brawl, we're definitely going to lose Char's trail."
-----------------------------------
Meanwhile, in Australia, at the Kimberly Unit's base.
"A sudden mass movement of people within Oenbelli?"
In the command center of the Kimberly Unit, Kimberley Heymann frowned as he looked over the reconnaissance report.
The unit was named after him, its current commander, but the Federation was reportedly dissatisfied with his efficiency in wiping out Mafty.
Rumors were already swirling that a new commander was being sent to replace him.
Under such pressure, he desperately needed a decisive victory to stabilize his crumbling position.
The "Mafty Army" gathered in Oenbelli was his perfect target: high in numbers, low in actual Mobile Suits, and equipped with a chaotic mess of aging machinery. They were, for all intents and purposes, sacrificial lambs. Even General Quack was said to be interested in their fate.
"Do we know their objective?"
"Unknown, but the crowd is continuing to swell," the adjutant replied, shaking his head.
"Could it be a pre-assault gathering... an attempt to catch us off guard?" Kimberley mused before dismissing the thought. "Regardless, their mass movement creates an opening. It's our best chance."
"Have the 1st Company take the lead. Attack the weakened sectors left vacant by the crowd's migration. The 2nd and 3rd Companies will stand by; once a breach is made, move in to split the Oenbelli battlefield into three zones and mop up those Mafty insurgents!"
Kimberley had hesitated before because Oenbelli held thirty thousand combatants.
Even with few and outdated MS, their guerrilla potential could stall a front line indefinitely, making a head-on assault unwise. But this sudden shift in the crowd provided the gap he needed.
The hangars at the Kimberly base slid open. One after another, Gustav Karls and Jegan Type-Ds locked onto their sub-flight systems.
With a collective roar, the flight boards carved arcs into the sky, ascending toward the city.
-----------------------------------
On the other side, aboard a cargo ship named the Valiant.
The cargo holds, originally designed for storing coal or sand, had been extensively modified. Now, they housed several burly, formidable-looking red Mobile Suits.
Among them, one unit stood out—its surface repainted in a distinctive purple livery, with a command antenna newly installed atop its head.
Hathaway was in the middle of a briefing with the other pilots when the disastrous news broke.
"Hathaway, something's gone wrong in Oenbelli!"
The urgent report shattered their planning session. "The Kimberly Unit has mobilized! A full company is advancing toward Oenbelli right now!"
Hathaway froze for a split second. His mind immediately raced through the intelligence reports regarding the MS situation in Oenbelli. He instinctively sucked in a breath of cold air, realizing how dire the mismatch was.
"Initiate sortie preparations immediately!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Hathaway grabbed his helmet and sprinted toward his personal purple-painted commander's unit.
"We have to support the Mafty Army in Oenbelli. We must repel the Federation's assault at all costs!"
As the Valiant's heavy bay doors began to grind open, the atmosphere turned electric.
For the "true" Mafty organization, this was no longer just a recruitment mission—it was a desperate rescue operation to save thirty thousand supporters from a Federation massacre.
................