ZAFT's White Demon

The next moment, the system's low startup hum echoed through the cockpit.

Providence Gundam's outer armor plates silently slid apart like overlapping blades, revealing the deep-blue framework beneath.

It was neither metal nor any known alloy, but a crystalline substance covered in countless faintly glowing circuits—the Psycho-Frame.

A deep azure glow spilled from the gaps in the armor, bathing the pure-white machine in a sacred yet eerie hue.

Behind Le Creuset's mask, the world lost its color.

Then he saw the future—

The four high-speed incoming "Calamity" fighters became four monotonous afterimages, each trailing a faint red dotted line behind it—their flight paths over the next few seconds.

Even the missiles they were about to launch had been outlined in advance by thinner red lines.

The entire battlefield had become a precise blueprint woven from probability and causality.

He saw the future.

Not a vague premonition, but images calculated and processed by the system, then projected directly into his mind.

The next second, Providence Gundam raised its beam rifle.

There was no aiming, no locking on. It simply raised the weapon and pulled the trigger.

Four times.

The beams tore through the atmosphere with four nearly overlapping, brutally compressed explosions.

"How—how is that possible?"

Inside the cockpit of an F/A-41C "Calamity," Jeff Brown spoke in disbelief.

His RWR radar warning receiver was functioning perfectly. There had been no indication whatsoever that enemy fire-control radar had locked onto him.

In other words, the enemy had manually targeted him while he was flying at Mach 3 without using fire-control radar?

How was that possible—

Then his world was reduced to a sheet of white light that swallowed everything before his eyes.

Until the instant before his aircraft was pierced by a high-energy beam and exploded down the middle into an orange-red fireball,