Athrun and Cruze

To better train MS pilots, nearly a hundred MS practice units are stationed here.

Therefore, the MS practice grounds are vast, occupying about seventy percent of the ZAFT Military Academy's area.

At this moment, the students from the Mecha Maintenance Class haven't noticed Cruze and the others behind them.

They are solely focused on listening to the teacher's lecture in front of them.

"The ZGMT-01 GINN Trainer is a training MS, primarily designed for training within PLANT's military facilities. Although it's just a standard training MS, its structural principles are almost identical to other MS."

"This position is configured with..."

Including Noer, several students from the Mecha Maintenance Class are sitting on the ground, taking notes as the teacher explains.

Their expressions are focused, lost in thought.

Not far from them, other MS pilots are currently practicing with MS.

After all, students from the Mecha Maintenance Class don't get opportunities to closely observe MS all the time.

The military academy primarily trains MS pilots, so the MS practice grounds are more often used by the MS classes.

Thus, the Mecha Maintenance Class's visit to see MS is a joint use of the grounds by several classes, an opportunity that rarely arises. Because of this, every student in the Mecha Maintenance Class cherishes this hard-won chance.

Of course, this isn't the most important thing. The most important part is the upcoming hands-on testing.

Every student in the Mecha Maintenance Class will have a chance to experience it for five minutes.

"Huh? Over there is... a white uniform?"

"Why is a white uniform here?"

"Isn't that Athrun?"

"Yzak and the others are here too."

"What's happening over there? Why are so many people gathered?"

However, the atmosphere in the practice grounds gradually becomes a bit strange.

Many students who were diligently listening to the lecture turn their attention towards where the crowd is gathering.

"Captain, this isn't looking good, is it? Aren't you supposed to meet Mr. Gilbert soon?"

One of the attendants beside Cruze stepped forward, looking at the growing crowd and the distant gazes, and couldn't help but remind him.

Cruze, carrying a black briefcase, heard this and raised his arm to check the time. He glanced around and then looked at Noer among the students from the Mecha Maintenance Class ahead, saying, "There's still plenty of time, let's wait a bit longer."

"Yes!" Although the attendant was puzzled, his captain had spoken, so he naturally wouldn't say much more.

Yzak, overhearing their conversation, couldn't help but look confused. Just as he was about to ask, Athrun and the others' voices came from behind him.

"Yzak."

"Athrun? What are you guys doing here?"

Yzak turned around and saw Athrun approaching with Nicol and the others, weaving through the crowd.

"Shouldn't we be asking you that? What are you doing here instead of training properly?" Diakka asked first.

"Which eye of yours saw me not training?" Yzak retorted.

"Neither of my eyes saw you."

"You punk..."

"Athrun Sarra?"

Cruze also noticed Athrun and the others and turned to look.

"MS Training Class, Third Year, Athrun Sarra!" Seeing Cruze look over, Athrun raised his hand in a salute.

"MS Training Class, Third Year, Nicol Amarfie!"

"MS Training Class, First Year, Diakka Elsman!"

"MS Training Class, First Year, Yzak Joule!"

"MS Training Class, First Year, Rusty!"

The others also saluted along with Athrun.

This is a military academy, and saluting superiors is mandatory.

"Rau Le Creuset!" Seeing this, Cruze also had to raise his hand in return.

"Cruze? The Nebula Medal?" Diakka suddenly realized. Cruze's last combat video had been included in the ZAFT Military Academy's educational materials.

In three hours, he single-handedly destroyed dozens of enemy machines, a record achievement for a single unit in Z.A.F.T.

"You're just realizing that now?" Nicol couldn't help but quip. He thought Diakka already knew.

"Uh..." Diakka was helpless. He wasn't really interested in these things.

Uncharacteristically, Yzak didn't retort rudely. He simply turned to look at Cruze, or rather, at the black briefcase in his hand bearing the icon for genetic research.

Due to family matters, Yzak's mother was in charge of managing the genetic research sector, so he was quite familiar with the icon for the Genetic Research Institute.

If he remembered correctly, this icon belonged to Level 1, which was considered classified.

A person in a white uniform, carrying a briefcase representing the secrets of the PLANT Genetic Research Institute, appeared at the school. The meaning behind this...

"I didn't expect the few of you to gather together," Cruze said, looking at the people before him. A rough idea began to form in his mind.

"Well, they've known each other since they were kids, so it's not strange for them to be together," Latis replied from the side.

"Heh, I've heard about your achievements. The future depends on you," Cruze chuckled upon hearing this.

The family backgrounds and personal strengths of these individuals were all at the upper echelon of PLANT. If nothing unexpected happened, they would likely hold significant influence in PLANT in the future.

Of course, this was assuming nothing unexpected happened.

"You flatter us, Captain. We are still very young and will need your guidance in the future," Athrun said, as he was quite familiar with Cruze.

Not that he knew Cruze personally, of course.

It was because of his father, Defense Committee Chairman Patrick Zala.

He often heard Patrick Zala talk about Cruze and Andrew Waltfeld.

"Heh, there will be opportunities," Cruze chuckled again, his mind now settled on his initial idea.

"That concludes the basic explanation of MS. Next, each of you will have five minutes to pilot a unit based on your assigned number. Make sure to cherish this opportunity."

From a distance, the teacher responsible for explaining MS principles put away his textbook and pointed to the two training MS units behind him. "Of course, you don't need to be too nervous. Just treat this as a regular internship. For now, you just need to understand its general operating principles."

The five-minute piloting time for the trainees wasn't due to time constraints.

While time was a factor, it was more about concern for the trainees' physical condition.

Piloting a mobile suit wasn't as simple as it seemed. Besides the various calculations, the greater issue was the pilot's physical fitness.

It was like being a pilot; if your body doesn't meet the standards, it's useless even if you can fly the plane.

Cruze, hearing the commotion behind him, couldn't help but turn around. His gaze swept through the crowd and locked onto Noer, who had quietly retreated to the back.

"Noer, are you excited?"

Beside Noer, a fellow student from the Mecha Maintenance Class pulled Noer back as he tried to retreat, pointing at the giant mobile suits in front of them.

"Quite excited," Noer replied with a strange smile. His eyes held excitement and longing, but also a hint of disappointment and helplessness.

Only he knew the complex emotions churning within him.

Mobile suits were a man's romance. What man didn't want his own mobile suit? Noer was no exception.

But recalling his own body, a look of melancholy crossed Noer's face.

He couldn't pilot a mobile suit yet, or rather, he couldn't use one normally. Setting aside his consciousness, reaction time, and calculation abilities, which couldn't keep up, his body itself was the problem. After a period of recovery, with the help of medication, he could live a normal life like anyone else.

But that was it.

Don't think piloting a mobile suit is easy. Besides requiring sufficient brain processing power and reaction speed, your body also needs to withstand the various loads imposed by the mobile suit.

These loads are something even Coordinators cannot fully resist. Of course, if it's just simple movement and not combat or intense activity.

Any healthy Coordinator or Natural can endure it.

This feels a bit like filler.