Side Story: The Warmth of the Iron Giant
At the edge of a war-ravaged city in Australia, the White Chaser warship lay silently anchored amidst the desolate ruins.
Reconstruction efforts were underway, though fraught with difficulty. The Earth Federation was gradually organizing the city's revival, but the shadow of war still loomed like a ghost over the land.
The remains of the city bore the scars of battle. Charred skeletal frames of buildings stood like the bones of ancient beasts, silently recounting past horrors. Once-bustling streets were now nothing more than rubble and dust, with a few tenacious green plants breaking through the wreckage—symbols of life's resilience.
The faces of the survivors were etched with exhaustion and numbness. Mothers clutched their children with vacant eyes, as if hope had long abandoned them. Young men stared blankly ahead, trapped in the nightmares of war. The air was thick with the inescapable stench of gunpowder, mingled with the scent of earth and ash, a constant reminder of the devastation that had unfolded here.
Aboard the White Chaser, waves of crew members disembarked, joining the local rebuilding efforts. They carried supplies and provided much-needed aid.
Yet, what stood out the most in the ruins were the Mobile Suits (MS). Once built for war and destruction, they had now been stripped of all weaponry, their towering frames dedicated to clearing the massive debris from the wreckage.
Arcadia led a team, throwing themselves into the reconstruction work. This was hardly the first time they had "meddled" in affairs outside their duty.
During mission downtimes, the desolation they witnessed made it impossible to remain indifferent. Even if they knew their efforts might barely make a dent, they still chose to stay and do what they could.
A ragged little girl, clutching a battered teddy bear, stumbled toward Eli. She tilted her head back and gazed up at him with wide, anxious eyes, her voice trembling as she asked,
"Big brother… is the war really over? Will everyone come back?"
Eli took a deep breath, feeling the oppressive weight of the hot air in his lungs. He crouched down, gently pulling the little girl into a hug. Forcing a small smile, he softly reassured her,
"Yes, little one. The war is over. There won't be any more fighting."
His voice was warm and firm, but inside, his heart ached. This child had lost her parents to the war—one of countless tragic stories here. As a soldier of the Earth Federation, all he could do now was witness this suffering, powerless to change the past.
As night fell, Arcadia and Eli leaned against a crumbling wall, taking a moment of rest. Arcadia crouched, a cigarette between his lips, his gaze vacant as he stared into the distance. Eli swirled a half-empty bottle of liquor in his hand, his eyes lost in the starlit sky.
"Arcadia," Eli murmured, fatigue and uncertainty lacing his voice, "Do you think any of this actually matters?"
Arcadia took a deep drag of his cigarette, exhaling a slow stream of smoke before replying, "It matters. Of course, it matters. Every person we help brings a little more hope to this world. Though…" His voice trailed off into a sigh.
The two fell silent, contemplating the nature of war, the complexity of human nature. As soldiers and as mere individuals, they pondered what they could truly do for this wounded world and the people suffering within it.
Later that night, in Eli's quarters aboard the White Chaser, a document lay quietly on his desk. It was titled [Relief Fund Initiative].
Eli stared at it, his mind swirling with thoughts. He still had a great deal of wealth, including shares in the Eight States Corporation. If he liquidated these assets to establish a foundation—one dedicated to aiding those displaced and orphaned by war—could it make a difference?
Deep in thought, he drifted into sleep.
A short while later, a figure quietly peeked into the room. It was Ryan, one of Eli's subordinates. Moving with careful precision, he picked up the document from the desk.
Outside, in a secluded corner of the ship, Sanders, Io, Arcadia, and several other crew members had already gathered. They exchanged glances, their eyes filled with silent understanding and determination.
"Alright," someone whispered, "Let's make this plan a reality."
One by one, they signed their names at the bottom of the proposal. Arcadia took the now-marked document and tiptoed back into Eli's room, gently returning it to its original place.
Before long, another figure appeared at the doorway. It was Captain Paolo of the White Chaser.
Seeing Eli fast asleep, uncovered, Paolo quietly pulled out a blanket and carefully draped it over him. Before leaving, he too signed his name at the bottom of the proposal.
Standing on the ship's bridge, Paolo gazed out at the vast expanse of space, murmuring to himself,
"Getting old, huh? Even these kids have surpassed me. But… this is what Revil would have wanted, isn't it? This is the real future of the Federation."
He suddenly chuckled, shaking his head.
"As for me—hell, I'm already passing down my captaincy. Maybe it's time to push Håkon into taking up more responsibility too—hahahaha!"
Laughter echoed through the bridge.
That night, Eli slept more peacefully than he had in a long time.
As the first rays of dawn filtered through the ship's windows, the document on his desk was now marked with several names.
At the top, the bold title stood out:
[Under-Taker Relief Foundation Initiative].
This document carried the hopes and convictions of the crew, a promise of a new beginning.
Though ruins still surrounded them, the seeds of hope had been sown. One day, they would take root, flourish, and bloom brightly upon this war-torn land.
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This side story was written by a reader, and I think it's truly beautiful. It reminds me of that image—the little girl on the Southeast Asian front waving goodbye to Lugh.
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Chapter 135: Giving It Their All but Unable to Win
"The patrols have gotten a lot stricter lately."
In the lunar city of Von Braun, a one-armed man pushed open the door of a modest, makeshift home and stepped inside.
This was the lower district of Von Braun, where the man eked out a living scavenging scrap.
After entering, he set down the supplies he had purchased and called toward the interior of the room.
"Is that so? Looks like the people on Earth have really stirred up some trouble… Perhaps it's finally time for me to take action."
A steady, composed voice responded from inside.
"You… Are you really planning to fight, even in your condition?"
The visitor switched on the room's dim light, revealing the cluttered mechanical parts strewn about.
At the same time, he caught sight of the person seated within.
Long silver-white hair cascaded down. The man sat on a worn-out sofa, staring at the visitor who had just entered.
A silver-white mask concealed his face.
Most striking of all was that, from the elbows down, both of his arms were completely missing.
"Gato… Going out there like this is far too dangerous."
"There's no need to worry, Kelley. I've regained the power to fight again—thanks to Axis."
Who would have thought?
Gato—whose name was now immortalized in textbooks—was actually hiding so close to Earth.
And Kelley, full name Kelley Layzner, was also a former Zeon soldier.
Currently disguised and struggling to survive in this lunar city, he was, in fact, carrying out a secret mission for Zeon.
"How's the repair work on Val-Walo coming along?"
Gato inquired.
"Well… It's just getting started, I suppose."
Kelley responded indifferently.
Val-Walo was one of the last MA models developed by Zeon.
Using certain means, Kelley had managed to stash a lightly damaged Val-Walo in this warehouse.
"I even tried heading over to Anaheim today, hoping that an old acquaintance might be able to lend a hand, but I couldn't get in at all. …Though I did catch sight of a gorgeous blonde. If it were you, Major, you might've fallen for her on the spot."
Though his words were lighthearted, his tone was heavy.
Kelley had lost his left arm in the war. Unable to continue fighting alongside the Delaz Fleet, which had retreated to the Shoal Zone to wage battle against the Federation, he stayed behind to seek a way to repair himself.
Then, just two days ago, Gato—who had risen to at least the rank of major in the Delaz Fleet—suddenly showed up at his doorstep.
At the time, seeing Gato's even more wretched state—both arms lost—Kelley assumed he had come seeking refuge.
It wasn't until today that Gato finally revealed his true intentions.
"I see… That's good, then. Now, I have the power to once again take the seat of an MS pilot, and I bring with me a gift from Axis—one meant for the revival of us spacenoids."
Gato placed a pair of mechanical prosthetic arms on the table and carefully fitted them onto himself.
Kelley hadn't noticed these prosthetics before.
Gato stood up and flexed his new mechanical fingers.
However, if this was the extent of his prosthetics, it was still far from enough to pilot an MS in battle.
"I've left behind some data. Use it as you see fit. This is the power that will bring our people back from the ashes."
As he departed, Gato patted Kelley on the shoulder.
The cold, unyielding touch of metal resonated with Kelley.
"That mask…?"
For the past few days, Kelley had refrained from asking, fearing he might upset Gato.
But now, realizing that Gato was not someone who would be shaken by such things, he boldly posed the question.
"It is a symbol of my reverence for Char Aznable—the man who preserved the flame of Zeon. And a reminder of my own disgraceful failure."
Gato ran a hand over his mask—its design somewhat resembling Char's—and smiled.
A year ago, he had been effortlessly struck down by that Gundam.
But now, he was determined to never let that happen again.
Gato had made up his mind.
——
"What did you say? Zeon remnants attacked New York?"
In the dead of night, aboard the White Chaser, which had just completed a month-long circumnavigation of Earth and landed on the East Coast of the United States, Eli slammed the table in disbelief and stood up.
And it wasn't just a minor skirmish in the outskirts. The Zeon remnants had actually seized control of part of the city center.
Meanwhile, the local Federation forces, hesitant to engage in urban combat, had instead made a desperate call for reinforcements.
"All hands, prepare for second combat deployment! Full speed ahead to New York! Inform allied units to clear our flight path!"
The moment Eli reached the bridge, he barked orders to the entire ship.
"And have the Exorcist Squad deploy with us! If the Medeas can't keep up, tell them to jump onto the deck with their MS!"
With the White Chaser traveling at its maximum atmospheric speed, it would reach New York in just twenty minutes.
Thud, thud!
Heavy vibrations rumbled through the ship as Eli glanced out the side.
Six GM units, each bearing the insignia of the Exorcist Squad, had landed on the ship's flanks.
"Open the catapults. Have them wait in the launch bays."
Giving out instructions, Eli also nodded at Captain Paolo, who had just arrived at the bridge, signaling that command was now in his hands.
Then, Eli turned and made his way toward the hangar.
Before long, the White Chaser reached New York.
Following the directions of the local Federation troops—who only had light arms—the overloaded Pegasus-class warship immediately deployed a total of twelve MS.
This put the Zeon remnants, who only had six units, on high alert. They realized they could no longer afford to underestimate their enemy and instead prepared to leverage the urban terrain to prolong the fight.
Fortunately, the arriving unit was not the Titans—who would have ruthlessly bombed the area without hesitation—but rather Eli's team, who took the city itself into consideration.
An hour had passed. They needed to hold out for at least another hour…
"Everything is for the success of 'Tears of the Sky'!"
The six Zeon remnants reaffirmed their resolve over the comms, then split up to their designated positions and engaged in battle.
Twenty minutes later—
Eli drove his beam lance straight through the final Zaku.
"These guys are stalling for time."
As the Zaku's mechanical hand clamped onto the leg of Eli's Assault GM in a last-ditch effort to slow him down, he instantly understood their strategy.
They were here purely to create chaos and buy time for their comrades. That would explain why, after establishing a foothold in the city, they hadn't taken any further actions.
"Urgent transmission from Augusta Base—Zeon remnants have launched an attack!"
(TN: Hello everyone, thank you for your support, and I apologize for any inconvenience caused. Public releases will continue at a rate of one chapter per day. Love you all!
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