Phantom in the moonlight

September, Cosmic Era 70. Heliopolis.

This neutral colony satellite, operated by the United Republic of Orb, still maintained its tranquil façade of an earthly paradise. Its artificial sun rose and set to a precise rhythm, its streets were clean and shaded by trees, and its people wore the relaxed expressions found only in times of peace. Yet beneath this peaceful veil, undercurrents were already stirring.

Mei Hock, using the alias "Lin Ming," had spent a month studying and living at the Heliopolis Institute of Technology as a "short-term exchange student from an East Asian Republic satellite." He had chosen mechanical engineering and electronic information as his fields of study, giving him ample reason to access the relevant laboratories and materials, as well as excellent cover for his nighttime activities.

By day, "Lin Ming" was an outstanding student with a quiet, slightly aloof manner. His handsome East Asian features, upright bearing, and eyes far too deep for an ordinary student were difficult to disguise, even with a few simple adjustments-a pair of black-framed glasses and a somewhat casual hairstyle. Amid the youthful restlessness and scholarly atmosphere of the campus, his distinctive presence drew particular attention.

Soon, he inevitably crossed paths with the people of the "story." During a project discussion in a small class they shared, he met Kira Yamato, a clear-eyed, slightly shy boy who displayed astonishing technical talent. There were also Kira's friends: the lively, outgoing Kuzzey Buskirk, the steady, dependable Tolle Koenig, and... Flay Allster.

Flay, a diplomat's daughter and the campus's acknowledged beauty, had noticed "Lin Ming" almost from the day he arrived. Unlike the boys around her, who were either awkwardly inexperienced or deliberately showing off, "Lin Ming" possessed an indescribable maturity and mystery, as though he had experienced things they could never imagine. He was polite but kept his distance, knowledgeable without flaunting it. That elusive quality only stirred Flay's interest and a young girl's competitive streak. She began finding excuses to approach "Lin Ming," deliberately sitting beside him during group discussions, making conversation between classes, and even inviting him to weekend gatherings.

"Lin, a few of us are going to the observation deck in the shopping district this weekend. I heard they've got some new coffee beans in. Want to come?" Flay smiled brightly, her long burgundy hair gleaming in the sunlight as she confidently displayed her charm.

Akira, under his alias Lin Ming, looked up and gave Flay a calm glance through his nonprescription glasses. His ACCORD ability let him clearly sense the girl's subtle mixture of curiosity, attraction, and a trace of determination to win him over. He smiled politely and declined. "Thank you for inviting me, Allster. But I still have some research reports to finish this weekend, so I'm afraid I won't have time. I hope you all enjoy yourselves."

Rejected once again, Flay's pretty face betrayed a fleeting hint of frustration and annoyance, but she quickly covered it with an even brighter smile. "Oh, that's a shame. Maybe another time!" She turned away, her skirt sweeping through a graceful arc, while inwardly grumbling, This Lin Ming... what a blockhead. Or is he... playing hard to get?

Akira saw right through Flay's thoughts, but a campus romance was hardly his top priority. Kira Yamato was the one who warranted some attention; hidden within that boy was a key that could shape the future. During several technical discussions, Akira casually steered the conversation toward cutting-edge topics involving OS optimization and mobile suit control interfaces. As expected, Kira displayed comprehension and creativity far beyond those of an ordinary person, his eyes shining as he threw himself into the discussion. His gaze toward "Lin Ming" also gained a measure of gratitude for someone who recognized his talent. Akira simply maintained an appropriate distance, quietly observing everything as an exchange student with some talent and distinctive insights.

Only after night fell did "Lin Ming" truly become active. Using information gathered through daytime reconnaissance and access to the institute's network-privileges he had elevated through less-than-legitimate means-he had largely narrowed down several possible concealed entrances to Morgenroete's secret underground factory. Most lay in the area adjoining the institute, marked as "abandoned warehouses and maintenance passages."

His movements were cautious and professional. Every night, he was the last person to leave the library or laboratory. He changed into a dark hooded sweatshirt, carrying a backpack containing a modified portable terminal, a miniature laser cutter, a high-frequency sonic jammer for temporarily disrupting low-sensitivity sensors, and a set of biomimetic climbing tools.

Avoiding the main surveillance routes, he slipped into the target area like a shadow. He used his miniature terminal to connect to any nearby maintenance network ports he could find, carefully bypassed the firewalls, and searched past maintenance records and energy-flow data for abnormal fluctuations. At key ventilation openings, he left nearly invisible magnetic markers, checking them on subsequent visits for signs of movement to determine whether the openings saw frequent use.

Once, to confirm whether a passage lay behind a grille deep inside a large ventilation shaft, he even used his biomimetic climbing tools to descend silently like a gecko. He inserted a miniature inspection camera through a gap in the grille and saw that beyond it was no ordinary duct, but a passage with artificial lighting and traces of rails, accompanied by the faint sound of machinery operating in the distance. Understanding what he had found, he quickly withdrew without leaving a trace.

These operations were tense and exhilarating. Every successful infiltration and discovery gave him a clearer picture of Morgenroete's underground layout. He also recorded the security patrols' shift-change times, how long surveillance blind spots lasted, and the approximate coverage of the sensors. He encrypted all this information and stored it on a physically isolated miniature storage device.

However, a little over a week earlier, an unexpected "interference" had disrupted his plans.

That night, he had been investigating a suspected backup power entrance at the edge of the institute, near a small bar. It was already late. As he prepared to return to his lodgings, he saw a figure stagger out of the bar. She was a woman whose plain work jacket did little to conceal her mature allure. Her long brown hair was slightly disheveled, her face flushed with alcohol and shadowed by a lingering melancholy. Akira recognized her at once-Murrue Ramius, the future captain of the Archangel, who should currently have been a technical officer involved in the G Project within Morgenroete.

She seemed to be trying to drown her sorrows, but had clearly overestimated her tolerance for alcohol. Before she had gone far, several visibly drunk men loitering outside the bar surrounded her, their words leering.

"Hey, beautiful, drinking alone is no fun. Why don't we keep you company?"

"Even dressed like that, you can't hide that figure. Don't be so cold."

Murrue tried to stay alert and sharply ordered them away, but her drunken state robbed her of authority and only encouraged the men further.

Akira frowned. He could have slipped away unnoticed and avoided any unnecessary contact. But as he looked at Murrue's eyes, which still held integrity and resilience despite her drunken anger, he remembered the composed, compassionate, outstanding captain he knew. His footsteps stopped.

"Let her go." Akira's voice was quiet, but carried a cold, oppressive weight. He stepped forward and placed himself between Murrue and the drunks.

"You looking for trouble, kid?" The lead drunk glared at him with bloodshot eyes.

Akira wasted no words. His ACCORD ability instantly assessed the man's balance and the way he generated force. Moving like a phantom, he sidestepped the incoming punch, landed a precise knife-hand strike against the side of the man's neck, and tripped him at the same time. The burly man crumpled before he even understood what had happened. The other two sobered halfway at the sight and charged forward, cursing. Akira dealt with them the same way, dropping them all in a few quick moves. The entire process took less than ten seconds, clean and decisive.

Leaning against the wall, Murrue stared dazedly at the young man who had appeared from nowhere and resolved the trouble in an instant. Alcohol had dulled her thoughts, but she instinctively sensed a reassuring strength in him.

"You... thank you," she mumbled.

"Can you get home on your own?" Akira asked.

Murrue tried to straighten up, but a wave of dizziness nearly sent her falling. Akira caught her immediately. As he took her arm, he could feel the remarkable softness and fullness beneath her jacket. Her scent reached him, a mixture of faint alcohol and a woman's delicate fragrance.

Apparently, she could not get home alone. Akira sighed and asked for her address. Murrue gave him the name of an apartment building, but her words were indistinct. He considered it. His safe house was only a single-room apartment, but at least it was secure and secluded. Half supporting and half carrying her, he brought the future captain back to his apartment.

What happened afterward surprised Akira somewhat, yet also seemed to unfold naturally. Perhaps alcohol had weakened her defenses. Perhaps she was drawn to his steady, dependable bearing, so different from that of every man she had known. Or perhaps, deep down, she needed some way to release emotions she had suppressed for so long-including grief for her boyfriend, who had died, and the strain of war's looming shadow. In that cramped but tidy apartment, Murrue revealed a side utterly unlike her usual image as a calm technical officer.

She became assertive, even a little... ravenous.

That night, their clothes lay scattered across the floor, beginning at the door. Murrue seemed determined to vent all her loneliness and stress through their entwined bodies, demanding more without tiring. The living-room sofa, the tiled bathroom wall, the kitchen counter, and finally the bed... everywhere bore traces of their fierce "battle." Her moans were bold and passionate, her proud E-plus figure rippling dramatically with their vigorous movements. She clung tightly to Akira, her nails almost digging into his back. Only when she was finally exhausted did she fall into a deep sleep like a satisfied cat, her face flushed and peaceful in a way it had not been for a long time.

Akira looked at Murrue sleeping soundly in his arms, his feelings complicated. This had undoubtedly disrupted part of his investigative schedule, requiring him to devote considerable energy each night to this fiery technical officer. On the other hand, his intimacy with Murrue had given him an unprecedented channel for close contact with someone on the fringes of the G Project's inner circle. In the scattered words exchanged between bouts of passion, Murrue might inadvertently mention work pressure, progress on testing new equipment, or small matters inside the base. Once analyzed, these fragments could be assembled into valuable intelligence. More importantly, the relationship itself provided excellent cover for his identity.

From that night onward, Murrue seemed to have found both an outlet and a temporary refuge. Almost every evening, she came to Akira's place with some excuse-she had worked too late, the plumbing in her apartment was broken, she did not want to be alone. Once she stepped through the door, the meticulous technical officer vanished, replaced by a passionate, uninhibited mature woman burning with desire.

"Lin Ming... feeling a little tired today?" She would embrace him from behind while he reviewed his materials, her warm breath brushing his ear as her hands slipped restlessly beneath his clothes.

"Miss Murrue, you have work tomorrow," Akira sometimes tried to remind her.

"It's fine... a little exercise helps you sleep..." Murrue's voice had already turned seductive, her deft fingers beginning to undo his belt.

And so their nightly routine of "physical exertion" began. Murrue seemed eager to explore every corner of the apartment: the sofa, the carpet, the bathroom, even against the windowsill... She was enthralled by Akira's young, powerful body, and even more by the profound, intent look in his eyes at their most intimate moments, as though he could see through everything. She needed that intense, almost uncontrollable experience to forget the troubles outside and affirm her own existence. Every time, they continued late into the night, until her whole body ached and she no longer wanted to move even a finger. Only then would she curl up contentedly in Akira's arms and fall asleep.

Although Akira's stamina far exceeded that of ordinary people, this captain with her "prodigious appetite" still forced him to adjust his nighttime investigation plans. He had to postpone some deeper infiltrations and rely more heavily on electronic reconnaissance and observation from the perimeter. Still, he did not resent this "interference." Murrue's body was undeniably alluring, and her passion and wholehearted involvement brought him an unprecedented sense of physical and emotional satisfaction. Watching the normally dignified technical officer melt beneath him gave him a sense of conquest and intimacy that cold strategic planning could never replace.

Sometimes, on waking in the morning, Murrue felt a little embarrassed by the previous night's abandon, but mostly she felt relieved and happy. Like a wife, she would prepare a simple breakfast for Akira-though her cooking was mediocre-before hurrying to work at Morgenroete. A peculiar understanding formed between them: neither asked about the other's past or deeper secrets. They simply enjoyed the warmth and passion of their intimacy in the present.

Youthful flirtation on campus by day, undercover reconnaissance by night, and a beautiful, mature captain waiting at home to offer her passionate "comfort"-these formed the three-part harmony of Akira's last peaceful days in Heliopolis. With Murrue's arrival, the calm before the storm had gained an enticing, dangerous blush of romance.

Akira knew these days would not last long. As the G Project drew closer to completion, ZAFT's attention would eventually turn here. He had to make the most of the time remaining, refine his plans, and prepare for the day of chaos that was certain to come. And Murrue Ramius, the woman who had unexpectedly intruded upon his plans, might also become an important and unusual piece in his future game. For now, he only needed to enjoy this sweet "trouble."