The speedboat cut rapidly across the sea. Char stood at the helm, one hand gripping the wheel and the other stuffing a sandwich from the Nahel Argama's mess hall into his mouth.
This was his first meal since morning.
"What a heartless man, Roz. Couldn't you even let me have a proper meal on the battleship?"
Char glanced at the container by his feet and swallowed the bite of his sandwich.
Inside the box lay a few more sandwiches, three bottles of water, and Char's pilot suit and helmet.
As for his current attire, he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and beach shorts with his sunglasses on, looking exactly like a man out on a seaside vacation.
Roz hadn't dared let Char linger on the ship, mostly considering his "peculiar" preferences.
After all, the infamous reputation of the "Loli-Mama-con" was known to everyone in the Courtyard.
Furthermore, Mayu was helping out in the mess hall today; given her current evolution toward becoming a bit of a mischievous "Loli-Mama" type, it would be a disaster if she ran into Char and he straight-up told her, "I am the man who will become your son."
"But... how am I going to explain this to Hathaway and the others?"
Char pondered how he would tell Hathaway that the cutting-edge machine they had just acquired had been handed over to someone for modifications and wouldn't be available for fourteen days.
Would he get punched for that?
"...What a hassle."
He picked up a bottle of water, took a swig, tightened the cap, and tossed it back into the storage box. Then, Char pulled out a communicator and dialed a number.
"...Eh? Damien?" Through the receiver came the voice of Mihessia, the liaison for the Mafty organization. "Why are you using a phone? Isn't the machine's comms..."
"The situation is a bit complicated. Did you get everything from the cargo plane I brought back from the Moon?"
Char cut off Mihessia's confused questioning. "Is Hathaway there?"
"Uh... everything from the cargo plane that returned with you has been received and is being organized at the base. The empty cargo plane has already been taken away by Anaheim."
Mihessia looked at the records beside her and said, "As for Hathaway, he's currently at Manado, transferring to a speedboat to head to the base."
It had to be said that the two Messas and two Jegans Char brought back had greatly alleviated Mafty HQ's severe shortage of MS units. However, this introduced another problem: Mafty was now short on pilots.
Or rather, the number of qualified, official pilots capable of truly entering the battlefield was insufficient.
Since every individual who could genuinely undertake a Mafty mission was precious, they could now only pull people up from the small number of reserves.
Hathaway had even begun to contemplate how to increase the number of Mafty pilots.
"Manado... I'm currently driving a speedboat in the Banda Sea and should be back at the base around evening."
Char glanced at the tablet fixed beside the helm, shifting the map displayed on it.
"Huh?"
Hearing Char's reply, Mihessia was stunned. "That MS... what about the Zorin Soul?"
"That's exactly what I need to talk to Hathaway about."
As Char spoke, a smile curled at the corners of his mouth. "All you need to know is that in order to obtain greater power, I've sent it off for modification."
To be honest, Char didn't know what Roz would turn the Zorin Soul into.
However, judging by the fourteen-day construction period he mentioned, it would likely involve adding a layer of outer armor, some additional equipment, and boosting performance.
He only hoped the finished product would be able to hold its own against Roz's machine.
After all, he had only given a few simple requirements: "The machine's paint must be red," and to preserve the Zorin Soul's frame as much as possible.
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At the same time, within the Davao station of the Circe Unit, Kenneth stood in the command room, continuously flipping through the combat records freshly extracted from the recovered Penelope.
As he watched the two red machines darting across the sky—hostile to each other yet perfectly synchronized while tearing through the Circe Unit's MS forces—Kenneth sighed. He rubbed his forehead, trying to settle his agitated thoughts.
It was clear that compared to when Kimberley was still in control of the unit, Lane had grown considerably stronger.
He had fought with everything he had against those two machines, and the tactics of the Jegans and Gustav Karls had been executed exactly according to his orders.
However, the pilots of those two red machines were too powerful. They were clearly ACE-level pilots, and their machines' performance was formidable.
The only saving grace was that, unlike Kimberley, though Kenneth placed high pressure on his soldiers, he at least treated them like human beings.
Even in defeat, the unit's morale hadn't completely collapsed.
Looking back, even if Kimberley hadn't thrown away that group of MS for nothing, those units clearly wouldn't have been enough to contend with these high-performance custom machines.
In that scenario, the Penelope would have been forced into a one-on-two or even a one-on-five situation.
"Reporting."
At that moment, Lane, having just left the infirmary, entered the command room and stood behind Kenneth. "My apologies, Colonel. I failed to..."
"It's fine... I've already finished reviewing the combat records. You did your best."
Kenneth turned around and patted Lane on the shoulder.
The pressure of facing two ACEs—or perhaps even UACEs—was unparalleled.
Even though Lane was the type to grow under pressure, Kenneth didn't dare push him any further. He could only try to guide Lane's mindset to prevent him from falling into an obsession.
After all, from the combat recordings, Kenneth had heard a trace of that "Torrington Syndrome" in Lane's voice and tone.
"Go and get some proper rest first."
Saying this, Kenneth turned back to the map on the table. "And then, keep getting stronger until you defeat them!"
"...Yes, sir."
Listening to the sound of Lane's departing footsteps behind him, Kenneth sighed.
Given the current strength of the Zeon remnants and Mafty, they might need to increase the number of high-performance MS, or perhaps request the deployment of two or three additional fleets to Earth?
Kenneth contemplated these possibilities, staring blankly at the map before him.
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Night soon fell, and Hathaway had long since returned to the base—a facility converted from abandoned island buildings.
He was currently watching his comrades in the maintenance team organize the Messa and Jegan units that Char had brought back.
The roar of an engine reached Hathaway's ears. He instinctively looked over, his brow furrowing slightly.
Is that Damien?
But... where is the Zorin Soul?
Under everyone's watchful gaze, Char stepped off the speedboat and approached Hathaway carrying a storage box.
"Damien... where is the Zorin Soul?"
After a moment of thought, Hathaway decided to ask Char directly. "Why did you return in a speedboat?"
"Oh, the Zorin Soul? I've sent it out for the time being," Char said with a smile.
"Hey! That was the custom machine we worked so hard to get! You bastard!"
At that moment, a pilot with a mohawk wearing a reddish-brown pilot suit—who had apparently overheard that the machine had been "given away"—rushed forward and grabbed Char by the collar. "Have you betrayed us?!"
"Hold on!"
Hathaway quickly stepped forward to separate the two. He stared intensely into Char's eyes behind the sunglasses. "What is your reason for giving up the machine?! Tell me, Damien!"
Looking at the scene he had caused and the hostile expressions of the Mafty members, Char had no intention of beating around the bush.
"After piloting the Zorin Soul, it became clear to me that the performance of this hurriedly built MS is insufficient to handle the upcoming battles."
Char gestured toward the box in his hand. "So, I found a reasonably trustworthy fellow and had him modify the Zorin Soul for me."
"Modify? The Zorin Soul?"
Upon hearing this, Hathaway's expression did not relax; instead, his frown deepened.
As a fifth-generation machine, the Zorin Soul was undoubtedly advanced.
Yet Char had actually sent it for modification—did he sense that future battles would be that intense?
"Who did you give the machine to?"
After a long silence, Hathaway asked the question everyone was most concerned about.
"An old acquaintance. That group of Zeon remnants—Full Frontal's team."
Char snapped his fingers. "According to him, I can contact him to retrieve the machine in fourteen days."
Hearing this news, Hathaway nodded to the mohawked pilot, signaling his willingness to trust Char's judgment.
Although the others felt a bit uneasy about Char's actions, Hathaway had made his decision. They could only respect Hathaway's judgment and turn back to continue their work.
"Fourteen days... that's acceptable."
Hathaway sighed. He had originally thought that once the Zorin Soul arrived, they could employ more diverse tactics or even engage in multi-front operations.
He hadn't expected this outcome, but fourteen days was not an impossible wait; at worst, they would just move a bit slower and act more cautiously.
But this timing...
"Did you time this on purpose?"
Hathaway looked up at Char. "The Federation Global Conference is being held in New York in fourteen days. A large number of Federation Cabinet members will be attending."
"...I didn't expect such a pleasant surprise."
Char raised an eyebrow upon hearing this. He hadn't realized he had stumbled upon such a perfect opportunity for an appearance.
"You want to go?"
Hathaway glanced at Char and shook his head. "The security intensity at that time will be very high, and there will be many reporters on-site. If there's collateral damage, our transition..."
"Of course we're going."
Char recalled the data he had seen regarding himself and grinned. "And we must do it with great fanfare! We'll even invite the Zeon remnants along."
"But for now, we need to plan this carefully."
Char reached out and patted Hathaway's shoulder. "After all, we'll not only have to face the security forces but also hold the venue for a period of time."
"...What exactly are you trying to do?"
Looking at Char's smile, Hathaway felt an inexplicable sense that Char was preparing to do something monumental.
"Naturally... I'm going to recreate history."
Char said as he pulled the communicator from his pocket.
"After all, this world is just a continuously rotating Mobius strip."
...................