Crossing Orb: Newtype Commander

Chapter 98 Kira's Awakening

Kira opened his eyes. His pupils had changed. No longer a gentle honey color, but a light radiating outwards from the center of his pupils, as if the sun were rising from the depths of his eyes.

SEED, awakening.

The Strike's thrusters suddenly sprang to full power, propelling the machine, along with Baku, into the air. Butterfield's pupils contracted. This thrust was abnormal, this acceleration was abnormal, this boy's reaction speed was abnormal.

"What—"

'

The Strike spun violently in the air, using centrifugal force to fling the orange Baku away. Baku tumbled several times on the sand, kicking up clouds of dust, but quickly regained its footing. Butterfield stared at the silver-white machine; its movements were completely different from before—more fluid, more decisive, more deadly.

Kira sat in the cockpit, his hands firmly gripping the control sticks.

"I won't lose," he said calmly, "because I'm not fighting alone." With lightning speed, he raised the Strike's beam rifle, modified by the OSS as needed, and pulled the trigger repeatedly. The beams precisely struck the joints or thrusters of each Baku—not fatal attacks, but paralyzing blows. One, two, three—under the influence of SEED's abilities, Kira's reaction speed was pushed to the limits of human capability; every beam found its target.

Butterfield watched as his troops lost their fighting capacity one after another, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes.

"Interesting. Very interesting." He pressed the communication button. "Kira Yamato, you are the most talented pilot I have ever seen. But talent isn't everything. On the battlefield, experience is more important than talent."

Orange Baku's thermal whip lashed out again, but this time it wasn't aimed at the Strike, but at the sand. The thermal whip struck the sand dune beneath the Strike's feet, instantly liquefying the sand and causing the Strike's feet to sink into quicksand.

Kira's pupils contracted. He pulled the control stick in an attempt to take off, but the thrusters on his back were damaged, providing insufficient thrust. The aircraft slowly descended, and the cockpit alarms blared in his ears.

"Kira!" Thor's voice boomed through the communicator.

"I'm fine—" Kira pushed the control stick, and the Strike's thrusters sprang to full power, but the machine could barely keep from sinking and was unable to escape.

Butterfield stared at the silver-white machine trapped in the quicksand, a flicker of hesitation crossing his dark brown eyes. He could have ordered a full-scale attack, destroying the assault machine while it was immobilized. But he didn't. Because he saw someone else.

On the edge of the battlefield, in the shadow of the sand dunes, stood a pink-haired girl.

Lux Klein.

She wore a white dress, held a pink Haro in her arms, and stared intently at the battlefield. Her expression was calm, but her eyes held a resolute and unwavering light. She wasn't there to watch the battle; she was there so that if the Strike Force was destroyed, if Kira was killed, she would step forward, stand before the ZAFT soldiers, and tell them, "Stop."

Butterfield's pupils contracted. He recognized the face—the PLANT diva, Siegel Klein's daughter. Why was she here? Why was she on the Combine's ship? Why was she standing on the edge of the battlefield, gambling with her life?

"Commander, is that—"

'

"I saw it." Butterfield interrupted his adjutant, paused for a few seconds, then sighed. "Order all teams to retreat."

"What? Commander, we have the upper hand!"

"I said retreat." Butterfield's voice turned cold. "Lux Klein is there. If she gets caught in the crossfire, we won't be able to explain ourselves to PLANT. Besides—that boy hasn't even used his full strength yet. If we continue fighting, even if we win, the losses will be huge. Retreat."

Butterfield pushed the control stick, and the orange Baku turned and headed deeper into the desert. Other Baku followed closely behind, and armored vehicles and missile launchers began to retreat.

Kira sat in the cockpit of the Strike, watching the departing orange machines, his eyes filled with complex emotions. He didn't know why Butterfield had retreated, but he knew—they had survived again.

"Kira, are you alright?" Maru's voice came through the communicator.

"It's alright." Kira pushed the control stick, and the Strike slowly crawled out of the quicksand. "But I don't know why Butterfield retreated."

"Because he saw Lux," Mu's voice cut through the communication channel. "That man, though known as the Desert Tiger, isn't crazy. He has his principles—and Lux ​​is the princess of PLANT. After confirming her presence, he chose to retreat."

Kira paused for a moment, then pushed the control stick, sprinting towards the Archangel. After a few steps, he stopped and glanced back into the depths of the desert. There, the orange silhouette of Baku had disappeared on the horizon.

"Butterfield," he whispered, but no one answered. Only the desert wind howled in his ears.

Bridge of the Archangel.

Murrue stood by the porthole, watching the Strike Gundam slowly walk back into the hangar, her eyes filled with relief. Kira had survived again, the Archangel had survived again. But what about next time? And the time after that? Butterfield wouldn't retreat forever because of "principles," and Kruze wouldn't give up the pursuit forever because of "losses." One day, they would face an inescapable predicament.

"Captain, the engine repair is 90% complete," Natal's voice came from the fire control console. "It is expected that the entire repair will be completed within 24 hours. At that time, the Archangel will be able to take off again."

"Okay." Maru turned around. "Notify everyone to complete all preparations within 24 hours. Once the engine is repaired, take off immediately. Leave this desert."

"yes.

Inside the hangar, Kira climbed out of the Strike's cockpit. His left arm was trembling, and his face was ashen. Thor rushed over to support him, and Miriam ran over carrying a first-aid kit.

Kira, your hand—

'

"I'm fine." Kira's voice was weak, but his eyes remained resolute. Thor looked at him, his eyes reddening. "You're just like Commander-in-Chief Athulhu, always saying you're fine." Always risking your life. Kira, you're not a machine. You get tired, you feel pain, you also—

“I will die too,” Kira interrupted him, his voice calm. “I know. But if I don’t fight, it won’t just be me who dies.” He looked into Thor’s eyes. “Thor, do you remember that mother and child in the Junius VII wreckage? The mother held the child, the child was in the mother’s arms—they weren’t separated even in death. I don’t want that to happen again. At least, within my power to stop it, and you are behind me.”

Thor fell silent. He lowered his head, handed the first-aid kit to Miriam, and then reached out and gently patted Kira's shoulder.

"Then keep fighting. But you must promise me—don't die."

Kira's lips curled into a slight smile. "I promise you."

Late that night, Lux stood alone by the porthole of the Archangel, gazing at the starry desert sky. In North Africa, the stars were brighter than the ocean, and the Milky Way stretched across the heavens like a silvery river. In her hand, the pink Hello screen displayed a thoughtful expression.

"Miss Lux."

A voice came from behind her. She turned around and saw Mu La Fraga standing in the shadows of the corridor, holding a glass of water.

"Major Flada," Lux said with a slight bow.

Mu walked over to her and stood beside her at the porthole. "Today, as you stood on the edge of the battlefield, I wondered what you would do if Butterfield ordered the guns to fire?"

Lux paused for a moment. "I'll go out and stand before his army. Then I'll ask him—why are you fighting?"

"They would answer, 'For the survival of PLANT,' 'For the future of the Coordinators.'"

"Then I'll ask them—is it acceptable to kill innocent people for survival? Is it acceptable to sacrifice the present for the future?"

Mu looked at her, a complex light flickering in his eyes. "Do you think they'll listen?"

Lux looked down at the pink Haro in her arms. "I don't know. But if you don't ask, you'll never have a chance."

As General Askhaz said, "Peace is not something that is waited for, but something that is fought for." He fought for it, and so did I. Though our methods differed, our goal was the same.

Mu was silent for a moment, then smiled. "You're a lot like him."

"How is it similar?"

"They are the kind of people who knowingly do the impossible. They know the war will be hard to end, yet they still fight. They know peace will be hard to achieve, yet they still strive for it. They know their voices may go unheard, yet they still sing."

Lux's lips curled into a slight smile. "Perhaps it's because of people like him that I believe peace will eventually come."

Outside the window, the desert sky twinkled in the darkness. In some corner of that starry sky, in the direction of Orb, someone was waiting for her. Waiting for her to emerge from the desert, waiting for her to emerge from the war, waiting for her to sing "Proof of Water" once more under the peaceful sunlight.

On February 25, CE71, the Archangel repelled the first wave of attacks by "Desert Tiger" Andrew Butterfield in the Sahara Desert. Kira Yamato, empowered by his SEED abilities, displayed combat power beyond his limits, but the injury to his left arm and the harsh desert environment pushed him to the brink of exhaustion.

Butterfield chose to retreat because of Lacus Clyne's appearance, but he wouldn't retreat forever. He was waiting for the Archangel to show a weakness, waiting for the Strike Gundam pilots to run out of energy. Before that, the Archangel had to leave the desert.

Kira has to hold on until then.

Until then, Lux must continue singing.