Jiliang Joins the Battle, Creuset's Return

Yet between being "dragged into it" and willingly throwing oneself into it lay an unfathomable gulf.

Choosing to throw oneself into the flames of war meant personally tearing apart the longing for and commitment to peace buried deep in one's heart. It meant willingly taking up cold, heavy weapons built to kill and aiming them at one's own kind—human beings.

For a kind-hearted girl like Jiliang Yamato, perhaps even a somewhat timid one, such an act was nothing less than a trial of the soul, a complete overturning of her values.

This absolutely did not suit her. Under normal circumstances, she might have chosen to run away, to hide, to choose any path that did not require her to face this cruel choice.

...But Char watched her. He watched her flushed cheeks, red with agitation, the tears glimmering in her eyes, and that almost obsessive determination.

If she truly chose to hold fast to her belief in "not fighting," then he, Char, would understand. He would even approve of her choice in his heart. In that case...

He would fill the gap left by Jiliang Yamato's absence from the fighting force.

He did not know how much he could accomplish alone. But the image of that masked man surfaced in his mind without invitation—Rau Le Creuset.

A Natural who, through his own outstanding talent and effort far beyond that of ordinary people, had climbed step by step to the pinnacle of ace pilots within the ZAFT Forces, whose main fighting strength consisted of Coordinators.

What that man could do... No, he could not compare himself to him. But he had to do his best.

Char spoke calmly, his voice utterly even, as if he were merely stating something trivial. "I don't mind."

"Huh—?"

Murrue Ramius's eyes widened in shock, and she could barely believe what she had heard.

She had already prepared herself for both of them to refuse, and had even begun considering backup plans.

Jiliang, too, abruptly raised her head and stared at Char beside her with disbelief in her eyes.

Her fierce words of refusal seemed to still hang in the air, only to be cut short by Char's brief reply.

"...What did you say?" Jiliang asked instinctively.

"You mean... you really can?" Murrue's voice carried irrepressible delight and an urgent need for confirmation.

Char's gaze moved from Jiliang's face to Murrue. His eyes were calm as still water. "If no one pilots that machine, this ship will most likely be sunk. We'll all die."

He was stating a cold, indisputable fact. "If my strength can increase our chances of survival even slightly and prevent the worst outcome, then I'm willing to pilot it."

He had thought this through long ago. Perhaps from the moment he decided to help Mu and entered the cockpit of the Blaze Gundam—or perhaps even earlier, when he realized that he and his brother had been swept into this chaos and that this ship might be their only way out—he had already made a certain degree of resolve.

He simply had not said it aloud.

Compared to Jiliang's intense reaction, rooted in emotion and conviction, his decision was based more on pure logic and a calculation of survival odds.

"Thank you! Thank you so much, Char!" Murrue's voice was full of sincere gratitude, as though she had seized a lifeline.

She stepped forward, her tone urgent. "I'm terribly sorry to make such a request under these circumstances... but time is short. I hope you can head to the hangar immediately and stand by in the Blaze Gundam. Can you come with me?"

After Char and Jiliang had boarded the ship, the Blaze Gundam had swiftly been recovered and placed in the Archangel's hangar.

Murrue was taking him there now.

"Okay." Char nodded without the slightest hesitation and followed Murrue as she turned to lead the way.

His stride was steady, without even a trace of reluctance, as though he were merely heading out for an ordinary training session.

"Wait!"

Just as Char was about to leave the room, a clear, urgent voice came from behind him.

He and Murrue stopped at the same time and instinctively looked back.

Jiliang Yamato, the girl who had fiercely refused to fight moments ago, had stretched out an arm toward them. One foot had stepped half a pace forward, her body leaned slightly ahead, and her face wore a complicated expression mixed with anxiety, struggle, and some kind of determination.

Her friends all stared at her in astonishment.

"...What is it?" Char asked. He saw that Jiliang's gaze was fixed directly on him rather than Murrue, so he spoke up.

He did not understand why she had stopped them. Was she going to reaffirm her refusal, or... try to stop him?

"Ah— um... th-that..." Jiliang opened her mouth, but only vague, incoherent sounds came out.

Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes darted uncertainly as though a fierce battle were raging within her.

"...Sorry, Jiliang," Murrue said from the side. Though she did not understand what was happening, they did not have time to linger there. "We really may not have any time left. Please stay here with your friends for now. We'll hurry and..."

Before Murrue could finish, Jiliang interrupted her with a louder, clearer voice.

"W-wait! Please wait!" Jiliang abruptly raised her head. Her gaze no longer wavered, instead locking onto Char's back with exceptional resolve. "I'm going too!"

This time, her voice was clear, loud, and filled with unquestionable determination.

Char froze slightly, his eyes widening in surprise. Murrue was stunned as well, having never expected such a turn.

Jiliang took another step forward, nearly running up to Char. She raised her head and looked straight into his eyes. The fear and hesitation in those brown eyes had been replaced by a powerful light.

"...If you're going," she said, each word exceptionally clear. Her voice still trembled faintly, but her tone was unwavering. "Then I'm going too! I'll pilot the Strike Gundam too!"

With eyes gathering all of her courage and determination, she clearly declared this to him, Char La Flaga.

Time rewound slightly, to the bridge of ZAFT's high-speed warship, the Vesalius.

In the profound darkness of space, the massive warship Vesalius hovered silently near the region of space where the Heliopolis colony had once been, like a dormant metal beast.

Its hard, cold lines gleamed with the icy metallic luster unique to the ZAFT Forces, silently proclaiming its power and authority.

Following a faint tremor and confirmation of docking instructions, a somewhat battered standard ZAFT MS—a CGUE—slowly entered the enormous maintenance hangar along the side of the vessel. It was Rau Le Creuset's personal machine.

After fighting Mu La Flaga's Moebius Zero and those two mysterious G Weapons before being forced to withdraw, he had immediately piloted his machine through the debris-dense area created by the explosion and battle, returning to the mothership at top speed.

The instant the CGUE rushed into the hangar, a flexible yet sturdy emergency landing capture net sprang out, wrapping and entangling the machine like a spider spinning silk, effectively absorbing the tremendous impact of landing.

After a violent bout of jolting and metallic screeching, the machine finally came to a stable stop in its designated position.

Once the machine was confirmed safely secured, the cockpit hatch popped open with a hiss, revealing the pilot inside.

Rau Le Creuset, the man who always wore a white mask covering the upper half of his face, leaped nimbly from the cockpit and landed steadily on the hangar's cold deck.

His white ZAFT uniform was spotless, as though the fierce battle he had just endured had been nothing more than a casual exercise.

"Captain Creuset!"

Almost the moment he landed, two figures hurried over.

One was a tall, upright young officer with a resolute face—Miguel Aiman.

The other was a youth wearing the same red uniform denoting elite status, handsome in appearance, yet carrying a composure and faint concern beyond his years in his eyes—Athrun Zala.

"Captain, are you all right? What exactly happened...?" Athrun asked first, unable to hide the confusion and urgency in his voice.

According to the original plan, they should have successfully captured all five G Weapons by now.

But Captain Creuset had returned alone, and from the fragmented communications, it seemed that something unexpected had happened.

Even someone as calm as Athrun could not help growing agitated.

"What about those two machines?!" Miguel followed up at once, his concern focused more directly on their objective. "Communications were cut off earlier. What happened to the Strike and that red... machine? Were they destroyed?"

He frowned and stared sharply at Creuset, waiting for an answer. Those two new MS units were the core targets of this raid, and their condition directly determined the success or failure of the entire operation.

Creuset stood where he was. No one could see his expression behind the mask, yet a faint... hint of amusement seemed to spread through the air.

He appeared to be desperately suppressing a powerful emotion. It was not anger or frustration, but rather something more like... an almost cruel sense of pleasure.

Slowly raising a white-gloved hand, he lightly adjusted his mask. Then, in his distinctive voice, faintly magnetic yet seeming to come through a thin veil, he spoke in an unhurried manner.

"No, those two machines... are both still alive."

His voice echoed through the empty hangar with an unusual penetrating quality.

"What?!" Athrun and Miguel exclaimed almost simultaneously, their faces full of disbelief.

As if he had not noticed their shock, Creuset continued in that calm, almost cold tone. "Not only are they alive, but they also seem to have received a little... unexpected 'help.'"

He tilted his head slightly and looked toward the depths of space beyond the hangar, as though he could see the silhouette of that ship fleeing in panic. "The bombs we planted in the dock apparently did not work completely. That new Earth Forces warship, which should have disappeared... interfered with our recovery operation."

"You mean... a warship!? That 'Archangel' still exists?!" Athrun's green eyes widened at once, his shock impossible to conceal.

If the mothership carrying the G Weapons had not been destroyed, what did that mean?

It meant that the Earth Alliance had not only preserved two of its most important new machines, but also possessed a powerful new warship capable of operating them.

This undoubtedly added enormous uncertainty and incalculable trouble to ZAFT's pursuit and the entire war situation.

Miguel's expression also grew grave, and he immediately understood the seriousness of the problem. "Captain, you mean... the Strike and that red machine are both aboard that Earth Forces warship now?"

Creuset nodded slightly, and a nearly inaudible chuckle seemed to come from beneath his mask.

"That's right. And even more interestingly..." He paused, as though deliberately building suspense, before slowly revealing an even more shocking piece of information. "The pilots of those two machines do not appear to be regular Earth Forces soldiers. They are two... youths who are very likely Coordinators, just like you, Athrun."

Athrun and Miguel were completely stunned, unable to react for a moment.

Coordinators were piloting the Earth Forces' newest MS, aboard a new Earth Forces warship, fleeing from ZAFT's pursuit...

The situation was simply too absurd, too ironic, and... too dangerous.

Creuset watched their stunned expressions. Beneath his mask, the corner of his mouth slowly curled into an unnoticed, cold, sinister smile.

The situation seemed to be getting more and more interesting.