The Strike Gundam drifted backward, thrusters screaming as Gary Lin forced it between Tianem's flagship and the next incoming vector.
Then the laser hit.
A column of searing light lanced across space and tore into Tianem's ship.
"Damn it—!" Gary snapped.
The beam didn't punch through the hull, but it sheared off part of the wing structure and carved into the engine block. Warning lights flared across the flagship's silhouette. Its speed dropped sharply, maneuvering reduced to a crawl.
Gary's heart sank.
Another laser fired.
This one clipped the remaining engine housing. The ship lurched, but somehow stayed intact. Whoever was piloting that thing knew exactly how to bleed damage without letting the reactor go critical.
"Lucky bastard," Gary muttered, half in awe, half in terror.
But then he saw it.
The flagship didn't turn away.
It pressed forward.
"…You've got to be kidding me," Gary growled. "He's not retreating."
The system's voice cut in, calm and merciless.
"Analysis suggests Admiral Tianem may be executing a self-sacrificial advance to eliminate the satellite threat."
Gary clenched his jaw. "Don't say that like it's reasonable."
Because Gary knew the price.
If Tianem died here, Revil would eventually retire without a counterbalance. The Federation's upper echelons would rot unchecked. Titans would be born. Gryps, Neo Zeon, endless cycles of war led by idiots in suits who had never seen a battlefield.
He wasn't letting that timeline happen.
Then his sensors flared.
Multiple high-output signatures. Familiar ones.
"Gary," Lockon's voice came through the comms, sharp and focused. "Buster Gundam incoming. I've gathered what's left of the fleet. We're moving to cover Tianem."
The Buster Gundam burst into view, cannons already charging. Federation ships followed in its wake, accelerating hard, forming a moving wall between Tianem and the next firing angle.
Lockon didn't waste time.
"I'll shoot down every Zeon unit that tries to line up another laser," he said flatly. "Gary, Samus—help Amuro at the front."
Gary blinked. "Amuro? What front?"
Samus's Armor Gundam slid into formation beside him. "You didn't notice?"
Lockon continued, almost amused. "White Base and Shirogane's ship broke off earlier. Amuro pushed straight toward A Baoa Qu. Fast. Very fast."
Gary cursed under his breath. He really hadn't seen it. Too focused. Too tunnel-visioned on keeping Tianem alive.
"…That kid never waits," Gary said.
Samus replied calmly, "Which is why he's still alive."
Another Zeon volley flashed past, intercepted mid-flight by Buster's cannons. Explosions bloomed like dying stars.
Gary exhaled, steadying himself.
"Alright," he said, bringing the Strike Gundam around. "Lockon, keep the shield up. We'll punch forward."
The Strike's thrusters flared blue.
Samus matched his acceleration perfectly.
Gary's eyes locked onto the burning fortress of A Baoa Qu in the distance—where Amuro had already gone ahead, alone, toward the heart of hell.
"Hold on, Tianem," Gary muttered. "You don't get to die yet."
Then the two Gundams surged forward, leaving the crippled flagship behind a growing wall of fire and steel.
Amuro had stopped counting.
Explosions blurred into one another, enemy silhouettes vanished the moment they entered his firing arcs, and the Alex Gundam's systems screamed warnings he no longer consciously registered. Heat, G-forces, Minovsky interference, all of it faded into background noise.
Only motion remained.
Only intent.
He pushed forward through the Zeon defensive line, beam rifle cycling, arm-mounted gatlings tearing through Zaku and Gelgoog alike. How many he had destroyed no longer mattered. Every second he stayed alive carved a path deeper toward A Baoa Qu.
Then it hit him.
That pressure.
Not fear. Not sound.
Presence.
"…Three," Amuro whispered.
From within A Baoa Qu's tangled superstructure, three massive signatures emerged. His sensors confirmed it a heartbeat later.
Zeong.
Not one.
Three.
Amuro's breath tightened. He knew what a single Zeong was capable of. He had felt it before. The raw responsiveness, the all-range attacks, the way the machine seemed to amplify the pilot's will.
He reached out with his senses instinctively.
Pilots were there. Strong ones.
But something was wrong.
"…Not Char," he said quietly. "And not that other one…"
No masked fury. No cold, mechanical hunger. Whatever had happened, Char Aznable and the four-armed monster were not here.
That didn't make this easier.
If anything, it made it worse.
The three Zeongs spread out, floating with eerie confidence, psycommu units drifting free like predatory limbs. They weren't charging blindly.
They were measuring him.
Behind Amuro, new signals flared.
White Base surged into range, guns already firing. Moments later, Shirogane Miyuki's flagship followed, battered but functional. Then, like stubborn ghosts refusing to die, GM units and two Guncannons pushed forward in formation.
Amuro's chest loosened just a little.
"Kai… Hayato…" he murmured.
They were alive.
Still insane enough to come back.
"Amuro!" Bright's voice cut through the static. "We're with you. Don't overextend!"
Amuro didn't answer immediately. His eyes stayed locked on the three Zeongs as their wired arms snapped outward, mega particle cannons charging.
"…I'll hold them," he finally said. "If they break through, everyone dies."
The Alex Gundam moved before thought caught up.
He boosted straight at the center Zeong, beam rifle firing in short, brutal bursts. The Zeong twisted aside, psycommu arms counterattacking, beams slicing past Amuro's cockpit by meters.
Too close.
Amuro rolled, let instinct guide him, dodging attacks he hadn't consciously seen yet. His Newtype sense screamed warnings milliseconds before impact, pulling the Gundam through impossible vectors.
But three was different.
One Zeong he could dance with.
Two he could barely contain.
Three began to close the net.
"Focus," Amuro muttered, teeth clenched. "One at a time."
He switched targets mid-burst, severing one Zeong's arm before its cannon fully discharged. The explosion rocked the battlefield—but the other two were already adapting, flanking, pressing him toward A Baoa Qu's structure.
The Alex Gundam shuddered under a grazing hit. Armor scorched. Systems strained.
Amuro felt it then.
Not panic.
Resolve.
"If this is where it ends," he thought, "then I'll make sure they remember it."
He pushed the Alex harder than it was ever meant to go, thrusters screaming, reactions blurring into instinct alone.
Behind him, White Base and the surviving MS opened fire, trying to draw attention away—but the Zeongs didn't look back.
They had chosen their prey.
And Amuro Ray, alone at the front of the war, met them head-on.
Amuro fought as if time itself had narrowed to a single corridor.
The three Zeongs moved like predators that had hunted together before. Wired arms crisscrossed space, mega particle beams forcing him to dodge before he could think. The Alex Gundam shuddered as armor peeled away, alarms screaming, but Amuro ignored them. His world was vectors, intent, and fractions of a second.
One Zeong lunged. Amuro let it.
He cut thrust at the last instant, slipped beneath its firing line, and emptied his beam rifle point-blank into its torso. The reactor went critical. The explosion flung the Alex sideways, but Amuro rode the shockwave and used it to roll behind the second unit.
The second Zeong anticipated him.
Its psycommu arms snapped back, cannons firing in a converging net. Amuro felt it before he saw it. He boosted straight through the only opening, lost his shield, lost chunks of armor, and rammed the Zeong with the Alex's mass. Beam sabers ignited. The Zeong split apart in white fire.
The third hesitated.
That was its mistake.
Amuro surged forward, everything screaming red, and drove a final shot through the cockpit. Silence followed.
He didn't slow down.
"I'm going inside A Baoa Qu," Amuro said calmly, already accelerating toward the fortress.
"Amuro, wait—!" Bright shouted.
Too late.
Almost immediately, another signal launched.
"Sayla?!" Bright snapped.
Sayla Mass, in her Gundam, streaked past White Base and followed Amuro inside. Bright clenched his fists, helpless.
"She'll be fine," Yashima said quietly. "You know how strong she is."
Bright exhaled and turned to the bridge. "Status?"
Shirogane Miyuki answered, eyes sharp. "Tianem is closing in. Gary Lin and Samus have just arrived."
Bright looked out and saw them—Strike Gundam and Armor Gundam moving into formation.
He allowed himself a brief moment of relief.
"This ends now," he said.