The image flickered to life on Harry’s visor, a gleaming white mobile suit streaking across the void, its thrusters leaving a trail of ethereal light.

“Could that be… the Turn A?” he breathed, his voice barely audible over the hum of machinery.

But as the suit drew closer, subtle differences became apparent. While the overall silhouette was hauntingly familiar, the face guard was positioned differently, mounted on the forehead like a knight’s visor. And those protrusions… they weren’t quite the iconic mustache-like “horns” of the Turn A.

Loran’s intuition sparked. This wasn’t just any mobile suit – this was a Gundam. His eyes tracked its trajectory, marveling at its impossible speed as it engaged a massive, legless enemy suit. The battle was a blur of motion, too fast for the human eye to follow, and in the blink of an eye, both combatants had vanished from the screen.

The vastness of space was choked with warships, their hulls gleaming dully in the harsh light of a burning asteroid rich with coveted resources. Fragments of radio chatter filtered through – “ceasefire,” “peace treaty” – but the images told a different story. The confines of the Earth Sphere had become an arena, with humanity locked in an endless struggle for dominance and territory.

A booming voice cut through the chaos.

“Look back! This incident was caused by the idealist who dreamed of peace in the Earth system. The Delaz Fleet uprising is but one symptom of a greater disease. Our Earth faces constant, evolving threats. It is for this reason that we, the Titans, rise to defend this precious jewel – humanity’s shared treasure!”
Another voice, filled with contempt.

“The very existence of a private army like the Titans proves the weakness of the Earth Federation government. They’ve lost the ability to unite people. Our true enemies are the spineless bureaucrats and the so-called representatives who hide behind absolute democracy, paralyzed and incapable of action. Though we are scorned as remnants of Zeon and exiled from Earth, here on Axis we rally behind Lady Mineva Zabi…”

The voices droned on – a bald man, a red-haired woman – but the battle raged unabated. Mobile suits swarmed through the inky black of space, with Gundam-like machines appearing in ever-evolving forms, hurling themselves into the fray. Each new model was stronger, larger, more intricate – like dinosaurs that had taken a wrong evolutionary turn. Nuclear blooms ignited in the void, asteroids collided with Earth in blinding flashes, momentarily illuminating the grotesque silhouettes of these mechanical giants before plunging them back into darkness.

A man in crimson spoke passionately.

“The Earth Federation has grown arrogant, corruption festering within its military. This gave birth to Zeonist factions like the Titans and emboldened charlatans like Haman Karn, who falsely claim the Zabi legacy. To break this cycle of war, I will purge those who cling to Earth, the source of all conflict in the Earth Sphere. This is the true purpose of Neo Zeon’s struggle!”

But no impassioned speech could stem the tide of history. The dinosaur-like evolution of mobile suits reversed, trending towards miniaturization. The era of apocalyptic warfare faded, replaced by limited conflicts with a veneer of environmental consideration. Humanity’s ingenuity, perversely, found ever more efficient ways to wage war without addressing the root cause of conflict.

A figure in an iron mask raised a clenched fist.

“Surely you understand that the founding of Cosmo Babylonia represents a noble spirit to replace the Earth Federation. History has shown us that there can be no resolution through force alone. Yet, regrettably, there are times when military might is necessary to cow the foolish into submission.”

Loran couldn’t believe his ears. How could a man hiding behind a mask, unwilling to show his own face, dare to speak of ideals and justify war?

Time seemed to blur.

A woman with regal bearing, her face a mix of strength and compassion, spoke.

“Even in the vastness of space, we recognize each other as one species because a spiritual force dwells within our flesh. This current age of galactic warring states persists because humanity, still adjusting to this environment, is driven by the impulse to understand one another. By enduring this trial, by accumulating knowledge, we will evolve.”

For a fleeting moment, it seemed a spark of hope had ignited amidst the endless chronicle of atrocities. But the queen’s expression darkened as she continued, “We must acknowledge the notion of Prime Minister Kagatie’s longtime assertion that the burgeoning human population requires culling.”

Those words, from lips that had moments ago preached unity, birthed new cycles of bloodshed. Earth and space alike were drenched in red as colossal weapons once again tore through the fragile peace. A Gundam – who could say which generation – its chest and back forming a distinctive “V” with its thrusters, darted through the carnage. To Loran, that “V” morphed into a different word: Victim.

The scenes shifted rapidly now, a kaleidoscope of horror.

“Observe what the nano-machine civilization has wrought – human degeneracy and the castration of our entire species! Witness the Mars colony, brought to ruin by a single virus triggering nanomachine self-destruction. We must return to the fundamental principles of humanity as a biological entity, regulating meaningless proliferation…”

The scene shifted to a desolate red landscape, strewn with the remnants of sand castle-like structures and dotted with chunks of flesh. Loran’s mind recoiled as he realized they were bodies – people suffocated in an instant when the thin atmosphere was stripped away. The horizon was an endless vista of dismembered flesh, a sickening pink that seared itself into Loran’s memory. It evoked a visceral recollection – Mr. Heim, Kiel’s father, his charred skin peeled back to reveal that same, horrifying shade beneath.
What was this? What purpose could possibly justify such suffering, such sacrifice? A maelstrom of emotion engulfed Loran, and he found himself weeping. His body, paralyzed by the onslaught of violence, could only express its anguish through tears. In the gentle gravity of the moon, the droplets didn’t fall but clung to his eyes, blurring his vision as more and more welled up.
“This is… horrible,” Sochie whimpered, her own eyes glistening. Guin, Kiel, and Agrippa could only stare, ashen-faced, at the parade of destruction.

One by one, the screens above them winked out. A final, massive display materialized, showing Earth as seen from orbit. The scars of countless wars were visible even from space.

It was impossible to say which era this image belonged to. The Universal Century had faded into myth, replaced by a succession of calendar systems. Now, “desolation” was the only word needed to describe the Earth Sphere’s condition. The planet’s oceans had turned a sickly black, its continents a lifeless red-brown. But there, in one corner of the globe, a miracle.

A tree of light, its trunk reaching beyond the atmosphere, its golden leaves scattering in all directions. At its crown, the Sackträger dock hung suspended. Long cables drew up massive barrels, spewing a glittering powder that shared the tree’s radiance – nanomachines, seeds of life, sent to heal the wounded Earth.

Harnessing the Sackträger’s rotational energy, an immense cloud of nanomachines descended like a pillar of light. They suffused the atmosphere, gradually enveloping the entire planet. This was the “First Tree,” the catalyst that ended one world and ushered in the present age. After eons of destruction, humanity had finally performed one truly benevolent act for their home.

“Lah, lah…”

A singing voice began to play in Loran’s mind, growing louder and clearer until he could almost make out the words, the voice of a girl from long ago.

――Ah, I can see time itself.

Chapter.06 C.C.2345 – Winter Castle
Vol.03 Pages 207-212