- An -

  An had barely been at the base for four weeks. Situated on the dark side of the Moon, Hephaestus provided the perfect hideaway for sprawling industries dedicated to Mecha produ. Initially, these gargantuan maes drew power from Helium-3, but they rapidly shifted to a wide range of Z-Crystals as engineers pushed the boundaries of teology.

  An never saw himself as just another Mecha engineer; his desire was to pilot one of the giants. His meical legs might have made it almost impossible for him to be accepted as a Ranger, but piloting offered a ce—maybe even his only oo return to the war, even if he had to risk his life doing it. Being a Mecha pilot was arguably one of the most dangerous positions, sed only to a low-ranking infantry soldier.

  Despite the risk, he discovered he had a knack for tinkering with Mechas and piloting them. Maybe it was the passion that had burned in him since childhood, or perhaps the dream of trolling a colossal war mae. Whatever the reason, piloting a Mecha stirred something deep within him.

  However, during his first two weeks on the base, An’s days were ed by an intensive Mecha maintenand engineering course. Only in his third week did his training as a co-pilot begin in ear. And that, as it turned out, recisely arked the heated argument unfolding at that very moment.

  “You’re out of your mind! They’ve only had two weeks of training. There’s no way we send them out.” The pilot and training officer ractically shouting.

  Hank had been An’s instructor these past weeks. He knew every new recruit who came through the doors, and he was widely respected for his experience, both as a teacher and a test pilot. The pilot’s jacket he wore, tattered and streaked with the colors of dust aal, bore the weight of many honors. Even from a distance, one could see the rows of medals testament to the tless missions he had survived.

  “No, Hank, you’re the o seeing the bigger picture,” the anding officer chimed in. “How many Mechas do we o take down a sian?”

  “On a good day?” Ha out a slow breath. “Ten Mechas.”

  “Exactly,” the official replied. “We’ve just received intel of an attavolving more than fifty Titans.”

  “That’s impossible,” Hank hissed, disbelief etched in every line of his face. “Are you certaiel’s correct?”

  "No doubt about it. The intel has been verified—it's no wohe base is in an uproar. Everyone, without exception, must deploy immediately," the officer stated firmly. He turo Hank, his gaze pierg. "Will he hihe mission?"

  "As a co-pilot... no," Hank replied, though a hint of reluce edged his voice.

  "Then bring him along. We're going to need ead every pilot," the officer cluded before turning sharply and striding away to oversee other preparations.

  An had been watg the entire exge from the sidelines. His hand trembled slightly, a cocktail of fear and anticipation surging through his veins at the thought of heading to the front lines.

  ‘I've barely had time to train; it's not just my life on the line here,’ An thought anxiously. The idea of endangering the pilot he'd be paired with weighed heavily on him.

  Only after the officers had parted did An fully register the chaos enveloping the base. Arms bred at maximum volume, casting a red glow that bathed the corridors in urgeno officer stood idle; even the engineers were scrambling frantically, running diagnostic cheechas before ung.

  Hank approached An, who still seemed dazed by the rapidly unfolding situation. "You're ing with me," Hank said decisively. "There's no way I assign you as someone else's co-pilot."

  "A-are you sure?" An stammered, uainty flickering in his eyes.

  "Yes," Hank affirmed. "Besides, I'll need your Energy trol. We won't be piloting an ordinary one."

  They began to sprint through the byrinthine hangar of Hephaestus Station, weaviween rushing personnel and moving equipment.

  "Acc to our orders, we o prepare for a mass teleportation of the entire fleet," Hank expined over his shoulder. "A hundred Mechas will deploy from this base alone, and God knows how many more from the other stations."

  "What are our ces?" An asked directly, struggling to keep up with Hank's swift strides.

  Hank was silent for a heartbeat before answering. "Not good," he admitted grimly. "Ten Mechas haitan under normal circumstances. But if this is a mass attack, there'll be other war maes waiting for us. We'll least a thousand Mechas to stand a ce."

  He gnced sidelong at An. "The odds are slim that every base, regardless of their House allegiance, will send all their troops."

  An swallowed hard, nodding. The magnitude of the situation was sinking in.

  "Not to mention," Hank tinued, "many of these maes might not be well-maintaihey're expensive equipment, and except for the Great Houses, most 't afford the upkeep required to keep them at peak performance.”

  They arrived at one of the few hangar ses that required a passcode and facial reition. As Hank approached the security panel, a ser sed his eyes, and the heavy doors slid open with a hiss of pressed air. Uhe harsh glow of overhead lights, a solitary Mecha towered above like a sentinel.

  "That's why we 't just take any Mecha into battle," Hank said, his voice eg slightly in the vast space. "We're going to have to take a gamble."

  An's breath caught in his throat. Before him stood a mae unlike any he'd ever seen—a prototype, still iing, but utterly uhe designation on its shoulder read XG-Ω, but among the pilots, it was known as Graviton Prime. It was the first feion Mecha—a pinnaecha engineering and a milestone in teological adva. Crafted from cutting-edge materials, its sleek, futuristic design gleamed with a radiant white finish ated by vibrant reds and es, as if its very form was abze with raw energy.

  From iion to pletion, Graviton Prime had been engineered with a singur purpose: to domihe battlefield.

  "This... this is awesome," An whispered.

  Hank nodded solemnly. "It's a game-ger. But ued in real bat."

  They asded one of the metal staircases leading up to the Mecha's cockpit. At the rear of the massive mae, Hank ied a key into a hidden panel and tur. With a pressurized hiss, the cockpit dan to lift, revealing a two-seat figuration ihe upper seat for the pilot and the lower for the co-pilot.

  As they prepared to enter, an engineer approached, wiping his grease-stained hands on his overalls. "Hank, are you really taking her out?" he asked, his voice hinting at .

  "Yes," Hank replied without hesitation. "What's the status of her Crystal?"

  "It's a Uhe engineer said, gng at a datapad. "But it's pretty worn. Not sure how much juice it'll give you."

  "Better than a on Crystal," Hank remarked. "It'll have to do."

  An began desding the dder into the co-pilot's seat. Settling in, he surveyed the trol panel before him. Aside from the rge tral s—which was currently dark—there were dozens of buttons, levers, and auxiliary dispys. It was both daunting and exhirating.

  He picked up the helmet resting by his meical feet and slipped it on. Instantly, his visor lit up, dispying feeds from the Mecha's teral and rear cameras. Data scrolled across his vision as the systems booted up.

  "Initiating sedary fuel ihe engineer shouted up to them.

  Ahe subtle vibrations as the Graviton Prime's systems came to life. Above him, Haled into the pilot's seat, beginning his own pre-flight checks.

  "Activating Auxiliary Power Unit," An announced over the inter linking their helmets.

  "Roger that," Hank firmed. There was a brief pause. "This time, take the meds. Yoing to hem."

  "Copy," An replied.

  He reached up to a small partment above him, retrieving two small capsules. They were refilled each time they returo base—stimunts, potent blends of amphetamines desigo sharpen focus and enhance reflexes. The side effects were less than pleasant, but they'd learo mahem with a careful cocktail of other drugs. In the heat of battle, such measures were necessary to push human performance beyond natural limits.

  An swallowed the pills dry, feeling the bitter taste linger momentarily on his tongue. A heightened sense of crity instantly began to settle over his mind.

  "Primary ons and sedary ons ammunition ready!" the engineer called out.

  An gripped the twin trol sticks at his sides, moving them to test the auxiliary ons. "Auxiliary ons funal. Radars operational. Mapping systems online."

  "Good," Hank responded. "Main engines are p up."

  "Primary on charged. Fueling plete!" the engineer announced.

  "Awaiting unch clearance," Hank said, his toeady.

  An's meical foot tapped nervously against the metal floor of the co-pilot's cockpit. His meical legs emitted a soft whirr with eaent. Gng at one of the side monitors, he caught a glimpse of Hank in the pilot's seat above. Hank appeared tense, but Ahe seasoned pilot well enough the glint in his eyes—a mixture of nerves and exhiration that surfaced before every unch.

  He'd seen Hank do this before. Clutched in his hands were a pair of worn drum sticks, tapping out an uneve on his thigh as they awaited final cleara was a ritual of sorts, a way for Hank to el his focus. An found it oddly f; if a veteran like Hank still got butterflies, maybe his own ay wasn't such a bad sign.

  A burst of static crackled over the s before the unch troller's voice came through loud and clear. "Launch approved."

  An's heart skipped a beat. "Here we go," he whispered to himself.

  The Graviton Prime lurched forward, the magic cmps releasing them from the dog station. Ahe subtle surge of acceleration as the Mecha slid along the rail system within the hangar, gathering speed as they approached the unch bay.

  "Gravity geors offlihe unch troller announced.

  Instantly, the artificial weight lifted. An's stomach did a familiar flip as zero gravity took hold. The sensation was fleeting. With a deafening roar, the Mecha's rear thrusters ignited, fmes propelling them down the unch tube. The G-forces pressed him bato his seat as they shot out into the star-studded void—the ent atmosphere of Luna ance.

  The stark surface of the moon rapidly receded beh them, a desote ndscape pockmarked with craters.

  An awe-inspiring sight greeted them as they broke free from Luna's orbit. Suspended against the backdrop of space was the massive orbital station—Cyclops Gate. Hundreds of Mechas were aligned along its circumference, eachored to the colossal ring that prised the station's primary structure. Here, they would initiate the mass teleportation.

  The troller's voice resohrough the cockpit. "Teleportation will start in thirty seds. Begin acceleration."

  "Time to join the party," Hank said, his voice crag over the internal s. The drumsticks had vanished, his hands now dang over the trol panels with practiced ease.

  "Engaging thrusters," An replied. He adjusted the power distribution, eling energy to the primary ehe Graviton Prime responded instantly, surging forward to take its pce among the other Mechas verging on the ring.

  An's dispys lit up with a flurry of data—velocity vectors, proximity alerts, synization signals. He focused on aligning their trajectory with the teleportation coordinates, fiuning their approach.

  "All systems nominal," he reported.

  "Stay sharp," Hank cautioned. "Teleportation be a bit... disorienting."

  "I remember," An assured him.

  "Ten seds to teleportation," the troller ted down.

  An took a deep breath, steadying himself. His grip on the trol sticks tightened.

  "Five... four... three... two... one... Teleportation initiated."

  A blinding white light enveloped them. For a fleeting moment, reality seemed to blur—the boundaries of the cockpit dissolving as they were propelled through the fabric of space-time. An's senses reeled; there was no up or down, just an overwhelmiion of movement without motion.

  Then, as quickly as it began, the light faded. The instruments recalibrated, and stability returned. An blinked, his vision clearing to reveal a new vista before them.

  Olympus—the tested p. Its swirling blue and green surfaed rge below.

  "All units, begin evasive maneuvers!" The urgent and bred over the open el, snapping An's attention back to the present.

  GCLopes