[SIMULATION TERMINATED]
The cockpit opened with a hiss as light poured into the dark compartment. Ren winced as the sudden brightness caught his eyes. When his vision cleared, he realised the room had fallen completely silent.
Spectators stood around him, their gazes fixed in place and their expressions unreadable. Beside him, Carta's cockpit opened as well. She remained seated for a moment, her pupils flickering as the simulation disengaged. Then her awareness returned.
Her face flushed as she recalled what had transpired, humiliation and anger settling in.
"Y… you coward…" she hissed. "To think you would resort to such unruly tactics!" She stormed toward Ren and seized him by the collar, her grip tight and trembling as she glared up at him.
"Lady Issue, please stop." McGillis stepped between them, placing himself squarely in her path.
"Lord McGillis, please do not interfere," she said, her voice wavering as she struggled to keep her composure. "I cannot overlook an injustice that stains Gjallarhorn's reputation!"
"Student Ordis's methods may have been unorthodox," McGillis replied evenly, "but the responsibility ultimately lies with Lady Issue."
"In what way…?" Carta demanded, teeth clenched as she stared him down.
"It was never specified that the duel would be conducted under noble etiquette," McGillis said calmly. "Student Ordis could only have assumed it was a standard engagement."
"So you're saying this is my fault," Carta muttered through clenched teeth, "for failing to be thorough?"
"On the contrary," McGillis replied smoothly, "it was simply a misunderstanding. Given Student Ordis's upbringing, he would have had no knowledge of such customs." He glanced toward Ren, a faint smile touching his lips. "Isn't that right?"
Catching McGillis's look, Ren snapped out of his daze and nodded absentmindedly.
"Is that so…" Carta hesitated, her expression tightening as doubt crept in. Before she could respond, McGillis placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Nonetheless," he said gently, "would you not agree that Student Ordis has proven his strength? A victory remains a victory."
Under his calm smile, Carta looked away. After a long moment, she finally nodded.
She turned back to Ren, her face stiffening before she bowed. "This is my defeat," she said. "I apologise for doubting Student Ordis's qualifications. I am sorry."
"It's okay…" Ren muttered, drawing in a slow, unsteady breath.
"Hey, are you all right?" Gaelio asked, tapping his shoulder with concern. "You don't look so good. Ren?"
"N… no, it's nothing," Ren replied quickly, shaking his head.
His expression tightened, something unreadable passing across his face. Without another word, he turned away, excusing himself as he hurried out of the room, leaving the others behind in uneasy silence.
Days later...
The outcome of the duel spread through the academy like wildfire. Under McGillis's quiet influence, rumors about Ren's unusual fighting style were quickly smothered, stripped of speculation until only a single fact remained. A commoner from Mars had defeated the heir of the Issue family, one of Gjallarhorn's Seven Stars.
The name alone was enough to unsettle the upper ranks.
In one of the mansions nestled within the upper echelons of Vingolf, Carta knelt in silence. Before her stood an elderly man gazing out through a wide window, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked down upon the world below.
"Lord Fareed…" Carta greeted, lowering her head respectfully. The elderly man gave a quiet hum in response, his gaze never leaving the view beyond the window.
"Word of your defeat has already spread among the nobility," he said at length, his voice calm and flat. "To think that you would be bested by a commoner."
"Forgive me, my lord!" Carta exclaimed, bowing even deeper. "I was careless..."
*Splash*
She flinched, biting back a cry as scalding tea spilled down her back, soaking into her uniform. She remained perfectly still, fists clenched against the pain. Servants hurried forward at once, kneeling to clean the tea from the floor as if nothing had happened.
"Spare me your excuses," he said coolly. "The fact remains that you failed."
Carta clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. "Lord Fareed, please. I can still fix this..."
"You have done enough." His reply was immediate, cutting her off. "Stand down."
"You seem to have forgotten who took you in after your father fell ill," Lord Fareed continued, his voice unchanging. "Do not make that mistake again. Remember your place."
He turned away, signalling the end of the audience. "Leave now. I have work to attend to."
Carta bowed deeply, swallowing her response, and withdrew in silence.
When she had left the office, Lord Fareed let out a slow, irritated sigh. He clicked his tongue as a servant poured him another cup of tea, the sound sharp in the quiet room. Lifting the cup, he took a measured sip, his expression unreadable as his thoughts turned inward.
It had not escaped his notice. Not for some time now. His son had begun to show signs of defiance, subtle at first, but unmistakable.
More troubling still was the way McGillis Fareed had started to gather people around him. The young heir of the Bauduin family was one example.
And then there was the most recent addition....
"Ren Ordis…" Lord Fareed muttered, his brow creasing in displeasure.
When he had first heard that McGillis was willingly associating himself with a commoner, he had laughed it off. The notion had seemed absurd, almost amusing. But the laughter had not lasted, and an unease had crept in soon after.
That was why he had chosen to intervene personally. Why he allowed events to unfold as they did.
His fingers tightened slightly around the teacup. By now, McGillis Fareed would have realised what was being tested, what was being threatened. Which meant that removing Ren Ordis would no longer be a simple matter.
Lord Fareed stared into the surface of his tea, his reflection wavering. This complication could not be ignored.
Later that night...
*Gasp*
Ren jolted upright in bed, breath tearing from his lungs. Sweat clung to his skin as his hand pressed against his chest, his heart pounding hard enough to ache. Slowly, he forced his body to relax.
The room was silent.
His ears rang faintly, as if a sound had been cut off mid-note. Ren closed his eyes and stayed still, the familiar pressure lingering in his body as it slowly ebbed away. He counted his breaths, guiding them into a steady rhythm.
It had been years since a nightmare had left him in this state. The images were already fading, but the discomfort refused to fade. Ren swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the floor. He knew he would not be going back to sleep. Moving quietly, he slipped out of his dorm room and into the empty hallway.
Wandering meaninglessly, Ren eventually found himself standing at the entrance to the simulation room. A faint tremor ran through him before he realised it was there. After a brief pause, he stepped inside.
The room was dark and empty. Ren stopped in front of one of the simulation cockpits, his fingers brushing lightly against the hatch as if testing its reality. There was no sense of triumph waiting for him there. Instead, his skin crawled at the memory of what he had done.
*THUD*
Ren slammed his fist into the cockpit. The impact rang through the room, metal vibrating as the shock travelled up his arm. A dull ache bloomed across his knuckles, and his strength gave out. He sank to his knees.
"I'm sorry…"
The words slipped out before he could stop them. Ren leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cold metal. His breath fogged faintly against the surface.
"I wish you guys were here too…"
The door behind him hissed open. Ren stiffened at once and straightened, wiping at his face as he turned. Caught off guard, he stared in silence at the woman standing in the doorway as she stepped inside, her expression calm and unreadable.
Carta flinched as well when she noticed him, but she recovered almost immediately. "Student Ordis, it is well past curfew," she said coolly. "You should be asleep. Return to your room at once."
"I'm sorry," Ren apologised again, lowering his gaze. "But… what is Lady Issue doing here?"
"Well..." Carta hesitated, then cleared her throat. "As the student council president, it is also my duty to patrol the academy." She straightened, delivering the excuse a little too quickly.
"But only academy staff are required to patrol, as far as I'm aware," Ren said quietly. "Even the student council has to observe curfew."
"That's irrelevant," Carta replied at once, turning her head away. "It simply means I take my responsibilities seriously."
An awkward silence settled between them as both were unsure of what to say. Carta's gaze drifted to the simulation cockpit, then to Ren's hand. The redness around his knuckles had not gone unnoticed. She hesitated before speaking again.
"I overheard you… talking to yourself," she said more softly.
Ren's expression stiffened.
"Who were you apologising to?" Carta asked, curiosity edging into her voice. Ren looked away, a small frown forming as he said nothing.
"They were already gone," Ren replied after a moment, the words coming with some effort. "I was just… thinking about the past."
"The past," Carta echoed quietly, watching him as if weighing each reaction. "Student Ordis, you are a man full of secrets."
She folded her arms, her tone turning accusative.
"A Martian boy adopted by a Gjallarhorn officer," she continued. "Even with parents who have a military background, that alone does not explain your ability to pilot a Mobile Suit that skillfully. Abilities like that cannot simply be dismissed as luck or talent."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Even during the brawl, you emerged relatively unharmed compared to the others. That is not something an ordinary student accomplishes." She paused. "Not unless you have real experience."
As she laid out each suspicion, Carta's tone grew colder, her gaze fixed on Ren with open wariness. "Student Ordis," she said firmly, "who are you, really?"
"If you refuse to answer," she continued, clenching her fists, "I may be forced to apprehend you." The air between them tightened. Neither moved. They simply stared at one another, the silence stretching on.
"I understand your suspicion," Ren said at last, his voice low. "But my past is not something I can easily explain." He drew in a slow, steady breath.
"However you see me," Ren continued quietly, "I have no intention of harming Gjallarhorn. Nor of undermining it."
He raised both hands and stepped forward with care, stopping an arm's length away.
"Instead of trusting me," he said, finally meeting her gaze, "trust the honour you speak of so often. I swear on my honour that I bear no ill will."
Carta did not answer at once. She studied him, searching for hesitation or deceit, but found nothing beneath his composed exterior.
"…I don't know what Sir Fareed and Bauduin see in you," she said at last, "but I pray you do not betray their trust."
"Regardless, it was not my place to judge you," she said at last, crossing her arms as resignation crept into her posture. "Very well. I will not pry further."
Ren released the breath he had been holding.
"It is already quite late," Carta continued. "You should return to your dorm." She turned away slightly. "I will forget that we met tonight. But do not mistake that for safety."
"T… thanks," Ren said awkwardly. He nodded once, then turned and hurried out of the room.
Carta remained still, listening. Only when his footsteps faded completely did she exhale. After a moment, she approached the simulation cockpit, opened the hatch, and stepped inside.
"Retrieve combat data," she said, tapping the console. "Unit ID:.... Ren Ordis... Generate simulation."
Darkness closed in around her. Then space unfolded once more. Carta grasped the controls and stared ahead as thousands of faint blue cubes emerged from the void. They shifted, merged, and assembled, forming a familiar silhouette of a Graze Mobile Suit.
Slowly, its head lifted and faced her.
"My name is..." Carta began instinctively, then stopped.
Her gaze dropped to the axe mounted at her waist. The hostile unit moved first. It surged forward without hesitation, axe already swinging. Carta reacted at once, raising her guard and catching the blow head-on. Thrusters flared as she countered, driving a sharp kick into the enemy's frame and sending it skidding back through space.
The simulated Graze stabilised at a distance its movement paused as if surprised by the counter attack.
Remembering the sensation when she believed that she would die. Carta's heart thrashed wildly, and a single bead of sweat slipped down her face. It was as if the world around her vanished, and her entire focus was on the single Graze, hovering in the distance.
For the first time, she was no longer fighting with the intent to win. She was fighting to survive.