ZAFT's Pursuit

But now, this "little sister" she cherished so dearly was somewhere beyond her sight, alone at the controls of a giant war machine, facing the threat of life and death and bearing unimaginable pressure!

She clearly knew Jiliang was in danger, yet she could only remain here, in this relatively safe place, unable to do anything—perhaps even... calmly accepting her protection?

No!

Absolutely not!

She, Flay Allster, was not some coward who could only hide behind others and tremble in fear!

An unprecedented courage erupted from Flay's chest like a volcano, instantly sweeping through her entire body.

Flay took a deep breath, fiercely wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand, and raised her head.

The confusion, unease, and sorrow in her eyes were gone, replaced by an unprecedented resolve, hard as steel.

"I've made my decision."

Her voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally clear, carrying an undeniable force.

Sai looked at her in surprise, a trace of worry flashing through his eyes as he softly called out, "Flay...?"

Flay straightened her back and swept her determined gaze over every friend present, clearly and firmly telling Sai and the others what she had decided.

There was not the slightest hesitation or retreat in her words, only a solemn determination to give everything for the sake of protecting those important to her.

Her words were like a stone thrown into a tranquil lake, stirring ripples across its surface.

Sai, Miriallia, Tolle, Kuzzey... They looked at Flay, who seemed to have been transformed in an instant. First came surprise, then they were deeply moved and inspired by her resolute courage.

They showed their support for Flay's decision almost without hesitation.

And afterward, as they watched Flay's upright and unwavering back, each of them silently made a decision of their own.

In other possible timelines, perhaps Flay Allster still existed—the "greenhouse flower" who, after her father's death, could only turn her grief and fear into resentment toward and manipulation of others; the girl who hid in a corner, trembling alone in fear.

But at this moment, aboard the Archangel of this timeline, that Flay had long since vanished without a trace.

The one standing here was a strong young girl who, for the friend she treasured like a precious jewel, was willing to cast aside her cowardice, summon the greatest courage of her life, step forward without hesitation, and fight and protect in her own way.

Against the backdrop of this warship filled with the unknown and danger, and the even fiercer storm of war soon to come, her figure shone especially brightly—like dawn cutting through the deepest darkness, carrying endless hope and strength, heralding a significant change quietly taking place.

"Beep—beep—beep! Emergency alert! Emergency alert!"

Just as Flay and the others had made up their minds, the bridge suddenly erupted with a piercing alarm, like an icy blade slicing through the tangled emotions that had only just gathered aboard the ship.

The deliberate silence maintained by Silent Running was completely shattered, and noise surged forth like floodwaters bursting through a dam.

"What happened!?"

"Report!"

The crew on the bridge were instantly overcome by tension and gravity, their previously relaxed nerves snapping taut.

They moved almost on reflex, without the slightest hesitation, rushing at top speed toward their assigned consoles and stations. Their hurried yet steady footsteps pounded out a dense drumbeat on the metal floor, as if every step was inextricably tied to the fate of this steel giant.

"Starboard sensor array has detected numerous anomalous heat readings! Energy level assessed as battleship-class! Distance: 200! Bearing: ecliptic plane 331.7 degrees, elevation negative 02 degrees! Mark 02C!"

The communications officer responsible for enemy detection spoke at a rapid pace, his voice echoing through the increasingly noisy bridge. Every number and technical designation he reported was like ice dropped into boiling oil, instantly causing the tense atmosphere to crackle.

"What!? What's its heading?" Ensign Natarle Badgiruel demanded sharply. Her voice retained a soldier's characteristic calm, but her tightly furrowed brow revealed the severity of the situation.

The officer rapidly worked the console and read the latest data. "Target heading... 000! Completely identical to this ship's current heading...!"

"It's going in the same direction as us!?" a young crewman cried out despite himself, his eyes wide with disbelief and deep concern.

"Could it be... we've been discovered!?"

The thought ran through everyone on the bridge like an icy current. That unknown ZAFT warship was rapidly approaching from their rear flank along the exact same route as the Archangel!

Still, the distance between the two ships remained 200 units. Amid their extreme unease, that left them with a faint sliver of hope. Perhaps it was only a coincidence? Perhaps the enemy had not discovered them yet?

But the next report completely shattered that hope.

"Target continues closing at extremely high relative velocity! Its lateral vector has passed ours! It is attempting to overtake along our flank! Optical systems confirm! Vessel classification is—Nazca-class High-Speed Battleship!"

The communications officer spoke again, bringing even grimmer and clearer news. The Nazca-class was the high-speed warship ZAFT Forces took pride in, renowned for its powerful mobility and firepower!

"So that's it...!" Mu La Flaga, standing beside the captain's chair, narrowed his eyes. His years of combat experience allowed him to instantly see through the enemy's intentions. "They plan to get ahead of us and swing into our forward route, forming an interception position! They're trying to completely block our path and pin us down!"

His voice was steady and powerful, like an anchor amid the somewhat panicked bridge, trying to stabilize the crew's wavering spirits.

"Nazca-class ships usually don't operate alone!" Mu immediately called out, his sharp gaze sweeping over the tactical data constantly updating on the main screen, missing no tiny detail that might affect the battle. "There should be an accompanying Laurasia-class Destroyer! Where is it? Search immediately!"

The moment the order was given, another alarm sounded.

"Found it! Another high-intensity heat source detected directly behind us at a distance of 300! Signal characteristics match! Confirmed as a Laurasia-class Destroyer!" the communications officer quickly replied.

At once, the atmosphere on the bridge plunged completely below freezing.

"...Tch! They set us up! A classic pincer attack!" Mu frowned deeply and cursed under his breath. He swiftly constructed the current tactical situation in his mind.

A high-speed Nazca-class was attempting to move ahead and intercept them, while a heavily armed Laurasia-class steadily pursued from behind. The Archangel was trapped squarely between two high-performance ZAFT warships.

"At this rate, the Laurasia-class behind us will catch up soon and enter its effective range," Mu analyzed rapidly and clearly. "But if we accelerate to escape and start the main engines, the massive heat signature and thrust trail will immediately expose our exact position. And the Nazca-class, already holding the advantageous position, will be able to turn back at leisure and form a perfect crossfire net with the Laurasia-class!"

They were trapped between a rock and a hard place!

Accelerating meant death. Not accelerating also meant death!

Since fleeing Heliopolis, the Archangel had fallen into one of its most perilous situations yet.

It seemed they had no choice but to grit their teeth and fight.

"Hey! Communications! Pull up detailed performance data, armament configurations, and standard tactical patterns for those two ZAFT warships, along with a detailed star chart of this entire sector—including every known asteroid and debris field! Send it all to my tactical display immediately!"

Mu gave the order loudly, his eyes fixed on the points of light on the main screen representing both friendly and enemy positions, as well as the map of the vast surrounding region of space.

His mind was working like the most efficient computer, frantically analyzing every piece of data and every possible variable, trying to find even the slightest chance of survival in this near-hopeless dead end.

Under such an extreme crisis, an almost suffocating tension filled the bridge.

But Mu, the seasoned veteran, was the only one who had not been overwhelmed by panic.

He still refused to stop thinking. His eyes seemed determined to see through, chew apart, and digest the tactical map and data before him, digging out a narrow path to survival.

Murrue Ramius, standing at the captain's station, had gone pale. Her hands gripped the railings tightly, her knuckles drained white from the force.

As acting captain of this warship, she was under unimaginable pressure. Watching the enemy markers steadily close in on the screen and feeling the increasingly heavy atmosphere on the bridge, even her voice carried an undisguisable tremor of helplessness. "Mu... Mr. Mu... do you... do you have a plan?"

Mu suddenly turned, his sharp gaze locking onto Murrue. His tone was stern, but also encouraging. "Pull yourself together, Captain! This isn't the time to panic! We need to figure this out together!"

He knew full well that combat was never the responsibility of a single ace pilot, especially when they were relying on civilians who should never have had to step onto a battlefield—and who had not even received formal military training.

That was precisely why they adults, they soldiers, could not place every burden and every hope upon those underage children!

After spurring Murrue on with his somewhat harsh words, Mu once again devoted all his attention to analyzing the battle before them.

Fine beads of sweat gradually formed on his forehead, but he did not notice.

His mind was operating beyond its limits, desperately thinking and simulating every possible response. He wanted only to find a way for the Archangel—and everyone aboard her—to break through and survive despite their absolute disadvantage and desperate circumstances!

"Warning! Warning! The entire ship is entering Level One combat readiness! I repeat! The entire ship is entering Level One combat readiness! All noncombat personnel, proceed immediately to designated shelters! MS pilots, report to the hangar immediately and prepare to sortie!"

As Xia Ya and Jiliang hurriedly split up at the changing room entrance so they could change into their pilot suits as quickly as possible, each slipping into the respective men's and women's changing rooms, the order representing the highest level of combat readiness thundered through every corner of the Archangel.

The cold, urgent command seemed to carry an immense invisible pressure, instantly freezing the already taut air inside the ship to its breaking point.

The changing rooms were brightly lit. Xia Ya and Jiliang began moving almost simultaneously.

Their hands seemed to possess minds of their own as they urgently and precisely undid the fastenings of their casual clothes, stripped them off in a few quick motions, and tossed them aside.

Then, with the same swift and practiced movements, they took the neatly folded, iconic blue standard pilot suits from the storage racks.

The fabric rustled softly, and the zippers shot to the top with a sharp zip.

They tucked the matching streamlined blue-and-white helmets securely beneath their arms.

From entering the changing rooms to finishing their change of clothes, the entire process flowed smoothly and effortlessly.

As Xia Ya made final adjustments to the slight folds around his collar and sleeves, ensuring the suit fit perfectly and would not hinder any movement, an indescribable ripple rose in his heart.

He subconsciously lowered his head and looked at the familiar blue outfit he wore.

Though he knew full well that this was absolutely not the time to be distracted, once the clothing symbolizing battle and responsibility wrapped around him, a strange feeling of emotion still welled up uncontrollably.

This is... the same battle suit as Kira Yamato's... Of course, the person in his mind was the young hero who had written legends in another timeline while piloting the Freedom and Strike Freedom, not the girl named Jiliang standing nearby.

He had no interest in women's clothing, but for a transmigrator who knew the "future," what this outfit represented was still extraordinary. It felt as though the torrent of history was pushing him toward an unavoidable stage of destiny.

Casting aside those distracting thoughts, Xia Ya's eyes sharpened once more.

After confirming that his communications interface was in order, he did not hesitate again. He turned and strode out of the men's changing room.

Yet fate seemed to enjoy arranging coincidences.

Just as his toe crossed the doorway, the door to the women's changing room beside it was thrown open with a loud bang.

A figure likewise clad in a skin-tight pilot suit rushed out at almost the same instant, carrying a trace of flustered urgency.

"Whoa! You scared me!"

A clear, slightly panicked cry rang out.

Jiliang Yamato, wearing a pink pilot suit completely different from Xia Ya's blue one but just as form-fitting, came to a sudden stop less than half a meter away from him. The two of them had nearly collided head-on.