The industrial smoke spirals upward, caught in the artificial currents of the factory ceiling. As the dust settles, a sleek, crimson mobile suit drops from the catwalks with practiced, predatory grace.
Athrun Zala
That Byarlant model is moving with suspicious efficiency. It is not standard Federation hardware.
Athrun Zala
You are far from your sector, pilot. Step out of the cockpit and surrender your machine to ZAFT, or be dismantled alongside it.
Tanya Niolov
The crimson unit holds its beam saber with an unfamiliar, aggressive posture.
The remaining ZAFT soldiers scramble away from the crimson suit, clearing a wide circle around the two heavy machines. The silence in the bay is heavy, broken only by the hum of cooling vents.
Athrun Zala
I will not ask a second time. Power down your reactor, Tanya Niolov.
+ Scene Quest Added
Survive the confrontation with Athrun Zala
“(I Whip out my Beam sabers and ready for the slug match) Make me. Child.”
FAILURE (Fair Combat, rolled -1)
Tanya Niolov snaps both beam sabers free. Blue-white blades flare inside the smoke, painting the broken factory wall in hard light.
Athrun Zala
So he draws first.
He lunges, crimson armor cutting through the haze, and his saber comes down faster than the cramped bay can comfortably hold.
Tanya Niolov meets the strike, but the impact drives her back a full step. Sparks spit from the crossed weapons as her footing slips on shattered plating.
Athrun Zala
Too slow. Your machine is strong, but your timing is not.
A second shove knocks one saber wide. Warning lights strobe across Tanya Niolov's cockpit as the Byarlant Isolde skids into a half-collapsed support frame, metal groaning under the strain.
Tanya Niolov
The frame is taking the brunt, not the suit.
Athrun halts just outside blade range, visor locked on the Byarlant, ready to press the opening he has forced.
Athrun Zala
Yield, Tanya Niolov. Or prove you can keep standing after the next strike.
“(I Whip out my Beam sabers and ready for the slug match) Make me. Child.”
FAILURE (Fair Combat, rolled +0)
Tanya Niolov
Make me.
Tanya Niolov
Child.
Tanya Niolov drives forward anyway, but the damaged support frame shudders under the weight of the clash and throws her line off. Her blades catch at a bad angle, and the red suit answers with a sharp turn that steals the exchange from her.
The Byarlant Isolde lurches sideways. One beam saber clips a hanging brace, showering the bay in sparks, while the other scrapes free just before the joint seals shut around it.
Athrun Zala
Enough. You are forcing this to collapse around us.
Behind them, the buckling frame gives another warning groan. A whole section of catwalk drops into the smoke, and the floor trembles under both machines.
Athrun Zala
Yield now, or the next opening will be the last one you get.
Heat blooms through the cockpit glass as debris rains between the two suits. Athrun holds position, saber poised, while the collapsing structure cuts off the clean retreat route.
“YOUR THE ONE WHO IS ATTACKING THIS COLONY! I DON'T THINK YOUR THICK SKULL CAN SEE THAT BUT YOUR THE IDIOT! (I Slam the Ageis Gundam Into the roof. and Out of the Burning Building. Slaming Athrun into the floor of the colony)”
SUCCESS (Good Strength, rolled +4)
Tanya Niolov
You are the one attacking this colony. I do not think your thick skull can see it, but you are the idiot.
Tanya Niolov slams the damaged suit up and through the burning roofline, using the collapse itself as a weapon. Metal shrieks. Firelight flashes white across the cockpit as both machines burst out into open air.
The impact drives the crimson mobile suit down hard into the colony floor. The deck buckles under it, dust and sparks exploding outward in a ring.
Athrun Zala
She turned the whole structure against me...
“YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT YEILDING THEN HOW ABOUT YOU YEILD! (I yell as I swing a beam Saber at the Aegis Gundam)”
SUCCESS (Fair Combat, rolled +2)
Athrun Zala
Tanya Niolov, he has to read her blade line instead of her brakes. One opening, then control the distance.
The crimson suit twists on the broken floor, one arm coming up too late. Tanya Niolov's beam saber carves past the shoulder armor and splashes bright heat across the chest plate, forcing the enemy machine back a step.
Scorched plating peels away in sparks. The impact shakes loose more debris from the torn roof, and hot fragments rain between the two mobile suits.
Athrun Zala
Enough. If you keep pressing, this entire floor goes with us.
He shifts his stance, regaining balance at the edge of the fresh crater. The crimson suit raises its guard, but the confidence is gone from the angle of its shoulders.
Tanya Niolov
Then stop giving me openings.
Tanya Niolov holds the saber high as the prototype settles into an attack posture. Behind Athrun Zala, the cracked deck groans, and a section of floor begins to sink under its own weight.
Athrun Zala
Tanya Niolov, look around. One wrong move and both machines are buried here.
“Like that is going to stop you if I even dare stop fighting.”
SUCCESS (Fair Willpower, rolled +1)
The two machines hang in the broken open space, motion slowed by the settling floor. Tanya Niolov keeps her saber up, but she does not advance.
Athrun Zala
Good. Then listen. I do not want this floor to take either of us.
His crimson suit eases its guard by a fraction, enough to show the tremor in the damaged chest plating. Behind him, the crater edge sheds another crust of dust into the void below.
Athrun Zala
You pilot like someone protecting a home, not a target. That is why I hesitated.
A strip of hot debris skips off Tanya Niolov's armor and dies in the dark. Athrun tilts his head, as if weighing her through the cockpit glass.
Athrun Zala
If you want to keep fighting, fine. But tell me one thing first, why are you here, in this colony, in that machine?
“What I do in this Colony is what I accept. But this Mobile suit is mine.”
FAILURE (Fair Willpower, rolled -1)
Tanya Niolov
What I do in this colony is what I accept. This mobile suit is mine.
The words go out thin over the fracture and come back smaller than the wreckage around them. Tanya keeps her saber steady, but the declaration does not harden the air the way she wants.
Athrun Zala
Mine. He said it like a pilot, not a thief.
Athrun’s damaged suit shifts one hand from guard to a slower, open angle. The cracked floor under his feet gives a sharp, dry groan, and a fresh seam of dust spills into the void.
Athrun Zala
Then you are not here by accident. Not a civilian, not a looter, not ZAFT's ally either.
Athrun Zala
You are protecting something. Tell me what it is, and why that machine matters enough to die for.
For a moment, the crimson cockpit light catches on the split chest plating and the drifting grit between them. The opening is small, but it is there, a chance to answer as a pilot instead of an enemy.
“I AM TANYA NIOLOV! EARTH FEDERATION PILOT! REGUARDLESS OF WHO YOU ARE ZEON OR NOT! I WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN!”
SUCCESS (Good Command, rolled +2)
Tanya Niolov
I am Tanya Niolov. Earth Federation pilot. If you stand in my way, I strike you down.
The declaration hangs between the two suits, sharp enough to cut through the settling dust. Tanya’s beam saber stays lit, but her stance does not lunge.
Athrun Zala
Earth Federation... here? In Heliopolis? That is not a lie I expected to hear.
Athrun’s crimson unit eases back on its heels, one damaged hand lowering a fraction more. The cracked floor answers with a hollow rattle, and grit trickles past the glowing seam in his chest armor.
Athrun Zala
You say it like a soldier, not a mercenary. Then tell me plainly, Tanya Niolov, what are you protecting in this colony?
Tanya Niolov
He is listening.
For the first time, the standoff feels like a conversation held over a drop of open space, both pilots suspended above the same failing floor. Athrun waits, helmet angled toward her cockpit, as if the answer itself might decide whether he fires or speaks again.