New Mobile Suit 2

The dim, solemn hangar was filled with the faintly sweet scent of coolant and the subtle sharpness of metal lubricant.

Shadows cast by enormous metallic structures enveloped everything. Only a few pale work lights, like stage spotlights, shone precisely upon the brand-new mobile suit at the center.

Inside the new machine's cockpit, Char La Flaga's fingers danced across the physical keyboard before the main console. His movements were fluid and precise, his fingertips moving with astonishing speed and leaving behind afterimages nearly impossible to catch, like a pianist performing a stirring composition.

His distinctive blue eyes stared calmly at the display before him.

On the screen, countless streams of data cascaded down like green waterfalls. Every flashing line of code and every shifting parameter refreshed and changed at speeds beyond the naked eye.

"CPC (Central Processing Computer) configuration complete. Circuit self-check passed."

"Neural link system synchronization calibrated. Mirror-feedback delay below 0.003 seconds."

"Plasma conduit ion concentration calibration... normal."

"Limb drive motors and gyroscope motor cortex parameters updated... complete."

A string of system self-check reports followed. Every confirmation chime for "complete" or "normal" felt like a signal being injected into a sleeping beast, urging it to awaken.

His gaze stopped at the end of the data stream. There, a striking line of red text silently flashed at the center of the screen, like an unavoidable final question.

[REACTOR CRITICAL PROCEDURE INITIATE: CONFIRM Y/N]

[Reactor criticality procedure initiation confirmed]

Char's fingertip hovered above the confirmation key, Y, for an imperceptible moment.

Time seemed to stretch at that instant, and every sound around him vanished. He could hear his own steady heartbeat.

This was it. This tiny core, wrapped in layer upon layer of shielding, was the fundamental difference between this GAT-X00A and every MS he had piloted before.