Tomoya Aki gripped the controls of his Gelgoog, staring at the swarm of signals appearing on his radar. The stars beyond the cockpit glass looked peaceful, but the battlefield ahead promised anything but that.
His hands trembled.
Not from inexperience—he could pilot almost any mobile suit placed before him. The controls always felt strangely natural, as if he had done this for years. What unsettled him was something else entirely.
I shouldn't be here.
He had memories of another life—watching anime, debating stories, worrying about games and deadlines. Now he floated in the middle of a war that felt far too real.
Still, he had made a choice.
Char Aznable had given him a place in this army. A purpose.
Tomoya swallowed.
"I just have to live up to that expectation… just this once."
Ahead of him, the battlefield erupted in flashes of light. Federation units from another base had arrived to reinforce the forces that left in earth.
And Tomoya recognized the signatures immediately.
Thunderbolt-sector machines.
His sensors locked onto one signal in particular.
A heavily armored mobile suit with massive plating and weapon mounts.
"The Full Armor Gundam…" Tomoya whispered.
That meant only one pilot.
Io Fleming.
Tomoya exhaled slowly, forcing his fear down.
"Great… the ace himself."
Nearby, the red psycho-frame glow of Daryl Lorenz's Psycho Zaku flashed through the battlefield like a comet, its thrusters blazing as it tore through Federation machines.
Tomoya allowed himself a small, nervous smile.
"At least I'm not alone."
If Daryl was here, the Federation squad wouldn't have an easy time.
Still, Tomoya's mind ran through everything he knew.
He had watched plenty of Gundam series before coming here—Iron-Blooded Orphans, the newer parallel timelines—but the original Mobile Suit Gundam? Only fragments and summaries.
Yet he knew enough.
Thunderbolt pilots were monsters.
But Tomoya had one advantage.
"I'm not a Newtype," he murmured. "And neither are most of them."
His Gelgoog's thrusters flared as he accelerated toward the incoming formation.
If the enemy relied on instinct and aggression… he would rely on precision.
The targeting reticle steadied.
For a moment, he hesitated.
I don't want to kill.
But the battlefield didn't care about hesitation.
Tomoya closed his eyes briefly.
Whatever brought me here… transmigration, reincarnation, some ridiculous anime mashup…
When he opened them again, the fear was still there—but now it was sharpened by resolve.
"I'll survive first," he said quietly.
The Gelgoog's beam rifle fired, streaking toward the approaching Federation line as Tomoya pushed his machine forward to support Daryl Lorenz.
Tomoya Aki's first real battle began in silence.
Solomon didn't count.
Back then he hid, avoided the fighting, and waited for it to end.
This time was different.
His Gelgoog moved smoothly through space, thrusters adjusting with small bursts as if the machine understood him perfectly. The targeting system locked onto a GM Command rushing toward the Zeon line.
Tomoya inhaled slowly.
"Okay… just one shot."
He squeezed the trigger.
A beam flashed across space.
The GM Command exploded instantly.
For a moment Tomoya froze, staring at the fading debris drifting through the void.
His breathing slowed.
But nothing came.
No nausea.
No shaking hands.
No overwhelming guilt.
He frowned slightly.
"…That's it?"
In the stories he remembered from another life—those typical isekai heroes—killing someone was always a huge moment. Panic, horror, vomiting in the cockpit.
Tomoya felt… nothing.
Maybe it was because of the distance.
He hadn't seen a body.
Just a machine destroyed in the vacuum of space.
The battle didn't pause for his thoughts.
More Federation signals rushed toward him.
Tomoya moved automatically. His Gelgoog dodged incoming fire with smooth precision, thrusters firing in quick bursts. Another GM crossed his sights.
He fired again.
Another explosion.
Then another.
Soon the battlefield blurred together. GM units, fragile Ball pods, even a small Federation escort ship that strayed too close to Zeon's formation.
Each time the beam rifle fired, another enemy vanished in a flash of light.
Tomoya kept breathing steadily.
Still nothing.
No guilt.
No nausea.
Just a strange calm.
Then a new signal appeared on his radar.
A powerful one.
Tomoya's eyes widened slightly.
"The Full Armor Gundam…"
The massive machine turned toward him, heavy weapon systems lining its frame like a mobile fortress.
Io Fleming.
The Gundam immediately opened fire, beams and missiles flooding the space between them.
Tomoya reacted instantly.
His Gelgoog twisted through the barrage with almost unnatural ease. Thrusters flared as he slipped past the incoming shots, weaving through explosions and beam trails.
Inside the Gundam cockpit, Io Fleming narrowed his eyes.
Music blasted through his cockpit speakers—loud, aggressive jazz.
But even with the rhythm pushing his instincts forward, Io could feel it.
This pilot wasn't normal.
Tomoya pushed his Gelgoog forward.
"Close combat… I can do this."
He drew the beam saber, the pink blade igniting as he charged directly at the Gundam.
For a moment, Io grinned.
Finally, a fight worth enjoying.
But then Io's sensors flashed another warning.
On the other side of the battlefield, a red monster tore through Federation units like paper.
The Psycho Zaku.
Daryl Lorenz was dismantling entire formations from long range, destroying mobile suits with terrifying efficiency.
Io's grin slowly faded.
"This isn't good."
If he stayed, his squad would be wiped out.
Even if he won against this Gelgoog pilot, the Psycho Zaku would finish the rest.
Io clicked his comm.
"All units—withdraw."
The remaining Federation machines immediately pulled back, covering their retreat with scattered fire before boosting away from the battlefield.
Tomoya stopped his charge.
The Gundam retreated.
Zeon pilots fired a few final shots at the escaping units before breaking off and returning toward their ships.
The battlefield finally fell quiet.
Inside the cockpit, Tomoya leaned back in his seat.
His Gelgoog floated silently in space.
A communication signal flashed on his console.
Daryl Lorenz.
"Tomoya, respond. Are you alright?"
The signal repeated.
But Tomoya didn't answer.
He stared at his hands resting on the controls.
"…Why?"
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I just killed people."
Several mobile suits.
A ship.
Yet his stomach wasn't turning.
His hands weren't shaking.
He didn't feel sick.
He didn't even feel sad.
Tomoya frowned, confusion filling his mind.
"Why… don't I feel anything?"
Tomoya Aki finally returned to the ship.
The moment his Gelgoog locked into the hangar clamps, the tension in his body drained all at once. The cockpit opened with a hiss, and cold recycled air rushed inside.
He climbed down slowly.
For a moment he just stood there on the metal deck, staring at nothing.
Mechanics moved around the hangar. Pilots talked loudly after the battle. Someone laughed in relief.
But Tomoya heard none of it.
Everything felt distant.
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Tomoya."
He turned.
Daryl Lorenz approached him, still wearing his pilot suit. The sniper studied his face carefully.
"You look like you saw a ghost," Daryl said. "Are you alright?"
Tomoya blinked.
"…I'm okay."
But the answer sounded hollow even to him.
Without waiting for another question, Tomoya walked past him and left the hangar. His feet carried him through the corridor almost automatically.
There was only one person he wanted to ask.
He eventually reached the briefing room.
Inside, standing in front of a large tactical display, was the man he had decided to follow the moment he entered this strange world.
Char Aznable.
In Tomoya's previous life, Char had been legendary among Gundam fans. The "Red Comet." A charismatic ace pilot whose presence alone could dominate a battlefield.
But standing here now, Char didn't feel like a legend.
He felt like a man.
Char glanced at him.
"You look troubled," he said calmly. "What happened?"
Tomoya hesitated.
Then the words spilled out.
"In the battle… I killed them. Federation pilots. A lot of them."
He clenched his fists slightly.
"But I don't feel anything."
Char remained silent.
Tomoya continued, his voice becoming more strained.
"I thought I would feel sick. I thought I'd panic. But I didn't."
"I just kept shooting."
"And now… I'm completely calm."
He looked at Char with clear fear in his eyes.
"…Am I becoming a monster?"
The room became quiet.
Char didn't answer immediately.
He leaned against the console, thinking.
After a few seconds he finally spoke.
"Relax."
Tomoya blinked.
Char's voice remained steady.
"You're a soldier now. You fought to survive. Nothing more."
Tomoya frowned slightly.
"But the fact I feel nothing—"
Char raised a hand slightly to stop him.
"That happens more often than you think."
He continued calmly.
"When people face something terrifying, the mind sometimes shuts down unnecessary emotions."
Tomoya listened carefully.
"You feared the situation more than the act itself," Char said. "So your mind focused only on surviving."
"That confusion you feel now is simply your brain catching up with reality."
Tomoya slowly processed the explanation.
"…So this is normal?"
Char shrugged lightly.
"As normal as war can be."
He looked directly at Tomoya.
"Just remember one thing. On the battlefield, the goal isn't heroism. It's survival."
Tomoya felt his shoulders relax slightly.
The explanation sounded reasonable.
Maybe even logical.
"…I see."
But as Tomoya left the room, a small doubt still lingered in his mind.
He wasn't sure if Char Aznable had just given him a genuine answer.
Or if the famous Red Comet had simply fed him a very convincing piece of bullshit to keep a young pilot from breaking.