I am Markus Armstrong, a member of the Black Dog squad—a federation black ops unit filled with criminals and outcasts, just like me. My own record includes kidnapping and sexual assault. The rumor is that if we survive this war against the Zeon, our criminal records will be wiped clean. This chapter is my story, a twisted path that began while Lydia Mercer's custom mobile suit was being modified by Sammy. Her last mission was supposed to be a solo run, but a man named Aaron Smith from a different federation base joined her. I remember the day Lydia, Aaron, and Alleyne left for New Mexico; Renato's face was a mask of pure hatred, as if he couldn't wait for her to be gone.
Our new mission: an invasion of San Francisco, California. Operation name : 'Pride month'. The intelligence report claimed the city was a federation-controlled area, but it hadn't been invaded by Zeon forces. Instead, the local federation command had made an alliance with the Zeon. The commander there believed in "love is love"—making friends, not enemies, and supporting the LGBT community and the people of San Francisco. But for the Black Dog squad, our creed is different. We changed their slogan into "killing is love," "murdering is love," "violence is love," "slaughtering is love," "rape is love"—every crime, every atrocity, is our love. To us, the acronym "LGBT" stands for "Slaughter, Gore, Burn, and Hunt". The briefing was short, clinical. "Eliminate all hostile elements. Secure the area. No survivors." The officer reading it didn't look us in the eyes. He knew what those words meant. When the meeting ended, Harkins grinned wide, showing teeth like a wolf.
"Another hunt, boys. Another feast," he said, slapping my shoulder hard enough to sting.
"You think the civvies will run? Or will they squeal like pigs this time?" someone else asked.
"They always run first," replied Danner, loading his rifle with exaggerated care. "But the best ones… the best ones try to hide. I love dragging them out. The look in their eyes—ah, priceless." The squad laughed. My stomach churned.
We were on our way to the city aboard the warship Big Tray, a whole unit of Black Dog soldiers, minus Lydia and Sammy. Our team leader, Renato Germi, and the captain of the Big Tray, Michael Colmatta, had one objective: to destroy the federation base for being "traitors". They were helping the Zeon's underwater forces instead of destroying them, and a traitor is a traitor.
Our mobile suits were mostly painted black with the distinctive Black Dog emblem. We had the GM Spartan, GM Ground Type, GM Cannon, and even newer models like my GM Sniper Custom and the RGM-79G GM Command. Our weapons were a mix of machine guns, sniper rifles, and hyper bazookas, but we lacked beam guns, though Renato did have a "hand beam gun" as an add-on. I may be a large man, but I'm a skilled long-range sniper. The entire squad was buzzing with excitement, like a pack of wild beasts on the hunt.
We arrived without warning, emerging from the Big Tray's hangar in the bay area. The warship's cannons fired, taking out the iconic Oakland Bay Bridge to prevent the Zeon and the traitors from escaping. We immediately opened communication channels to insult our enemies. The Zeon had their Mad Angler-class warship and a variety of mobile suits, including the MSM-07 Z'gok, MSM-04G Juaggu, and the massive MSM-10 Zock. The traitor federation forces used standard GMs, GM Light Armors, and Guntanks.
The Black Dog squad is known for our wild and brutal attacks. Our insults chipped away at their morale and spirit. The Zeon might have had more advanced beam technology, but our ferocity was unmatched. We didn't just target limbs or heads; we aimed directly for the cockpits. I moved with the squad through alleys that stank of fear. Every shadow could have been an enemy. Every movement, a target. Harkins caught a family huddled in the ruins of a bakery. "Run, little rabbits," he growled, raising his bullpop machinegun. The father begged, shielding his wife and son. "Please—we're not armed. Please—" The sound of the machinegun cut him in half. His body fell before his words did. The boy screamed. "Shut him up," Danner said flatly. Harkins laughed and complied.
"You see the look on that kid's face? Like he thought someone would save him."
"Hah! No one's coming. We are the law here."
"I'll carve another tally tonight. How many you on, Harkins?"
"Thirty-two. First one to fifty gets bragging rights."
I wanted to vomit. But my rifle was still raised, and the order still echoed in my helmet: no survivors. The city quickly descended into chaos. Civilians screamed and ran as vehicles burst into flames. For us, this was nothing short of a raid party. But then, Captain Colmatta called me. "Markus, I order you to go to the hangar and get this beam sniper rifle," he said.
"A beam sniper rifle? I'm on my way, Major," I replied, heading back Inside the hangar and it was a brand-new weapon: the "BLASH XBR-X-79YK Long-range Beam Rifle". It was huge, heavy, and perfect for a big guy like me. I took aim at the massive Zock and fired. The beam sliced through it with destructive force, creating a large hole in the building behind it.
We killed, we shot, we hunted them down. Renato even fired on our own allies who were in his way, showing no fear of collateral damage or killing innocent civilians. The Black Dog squad was on a rampage, targeting everyone—young, old, men, women, children, and people of all orientations. We didn't just shoot them; we stepped on them like cockroaches. Captain Colmatta approved of our actions, believing war crimes were an act of love.
"KILL THEM ALL!! NO ONE SHALL ESCAPE!! EVERYONE MUST DIE!!" Renato's voice roared over the comms. San Francisco was a city of flames, a burning hell. The sky was a mix of pitch-black and red smoke. Explosions echoed everywhere, and the federation base was destroyed. The sound of our laughter mixed with the screams of civilians and the constant gunfire.
"Major! This isn't how the federation operates! This is a total massacre!" I yelled, trying to reason with Colmatta.
"This isn't massacre, Lieutenant," he replied. "This is how the Black Dog squad works. This is what true love is".
"You can't be serious! Our objective was the Zeon and the traitors, not the civilians!" I said, my voice shaking.
"Know your place, Lieutenant. You don't want to be considered a traitor, do you?" Colmatta said, and I felt a gun barrel press against the back of my mobile suit. It was a black RGM-79G GM Command with a hyper bazooka. One wrong word, and I would be executed. I quickly apologized, claiming I had lost focus, and Colmatta warned me that disobedience would be met with force.
"Armstrong," Kellar, the GM command pilot behind me growled. "You're too quiet. Don't tell me you're getting soft."
"No, sir," I muttered.
"Good. Because soft dogs don't eat!!!"
The GM Command kicked and insulted me, calling me a "hero wannabe". The pilot forced me to take aim at escaping civilians. I had no choice. My finger trembled on the trigger, but I fired the beam sniper rifle. The beam struck, and the civilians turned to dust or were dismembered. Their screams mixed with the cruel laughter of my squadmates.
A GM Spartan threw a chemical gas grenade at a crowd of civilians and traitors trying to escape. The gas caused their skin to turn a deep blue, and blood foamed from their eyes, noses, and mouths. This was the love of the Black Dog squad. Suddenly, the commander of the San Francisco base arrived in a unique mobile suit. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! YOU SHOULDN'T DENY LOVE! YOU'VE BECOME AN ENEMY OF THE COMMUNITY! WE MAKE ALLIES, NOT WAR! THIS IS ABOUT LOVE, LOVE IS LOVE—" he shouted, but Renato's bullpup machine gun and hand beam gun cut him short.
Renato systematically damaged the mobile suit's head, arms, and legs, disabling it. "Love is love?" Renato scoffed, walking closer. "We are soldiers. You think your support for the LGBT community makes you a good prey for us? Do you know what love is in the Black Dog squad? I love to kill, my friend Gamma loves to rape, and my friend Keith loves violence. This is our love. Your 'love is love' is a total nonsense in this war. For us, war and violence is true love".
Renato then began to crush the cockpit with his foot, and the commander's screams were a melody to his ears. The mobile suit is destroyed. "LISTEN UP BOYS!" Renato roared. "THE LGBT COMMUNITY IS OUR NEW KILL LIST! THEY ARE NOTHING BUT COWARDS OF WAR! FOR US, WAR IS LOVE!". The squad roared and fired their guns into the air, laughing. Their new "hunt" was not just the Zeon and the traitors, but everything.
After the gas dissipated, San Francisco was a dead city. Michael Colmatta ordered us to plunder any salvageable mobile suits and equipment. Buildings were reduced to rubble, and the iconic bridge was beyond repair. The city of "San Francisco" was renamed "the land of sickos". Any survivors were hunted down and killed. We were war criminals, but the federation would defend our actions.When dawn broke, San Francisco was silent. Bodies littered the streets. Blood painted the walls. The air was heavy with ash, as if the city itself had been cremated. The Black Dogs celebrated.
"Fifty-six," Danner bragged.
"Fifty-nine!" Harkins howled.
Kellar raised his rifle. "Another hunt well done."
The Federation would call this a victory. History would call it peacekeeping.
But I knew what it was: genocide. As we headed back to base, I heard the squad talking about Lydia. Renato didn't want her to surpass him or get a promotion, afraid she might take his position as team leader just because she was the only woman in the squad. They also spoke about her in vile terms, similar to my own past crimes. So, that's it, I thought. Renato's hatred is born from fear of being replaced.
We arrived at the base under the cover of night, unloading the mobile suits we had plundered. The Zeon's beam gun technology was to be studied to create better weapons for the federation. I saw Sammy still working on Lydia's mobile suit, but she was nowhere to be found. I asked Alleyne, who said Lydia had gone to the city with Aaron, who was also getting his mobile suit, a Medea, serviced.
The next morning, I saw Lydia and Aaron return from New Mexico. Aaron seemed excited to take her to his Medea, and Lydia looked confused, almost uncomfortable. I walked to the hangar and found Sammy still working on Lydia's GM Spartan. The mobile suit's colors had been changed from black and grey to black and brown with red on the cockpit. Sammy's eyes held a fierce determination.
"So, you're giving Lydia your mobile suit?" I asked.
"Lydia has better control with the GM Spartan than I do," Sammy said, not looking up from his work. "Since she got promoted, I'm customizing it for her, removing unnecessary material and adding new weapons".
"But why are you piloting a Gundam Ground Type?" I asked.
"I want to know what it feels like to pilot a Gundam before the big war starts," he replied.
After helping him, I went to my own GM Sniper and stared at it. It was no longer my suit; it was an emotionless killing machine. I had killed innocent people, something far beyond my own crimes of kidnapping and assault. The last mission was a total massacre, and the suit was a reflection of my sins. I walked away and found Lydia in the hallway. Her usual expression had returned—a thirst for blood and violence. I was scared just looking at her.
To be continued.