G Gundam Fan Fiction ❯ Rise, Crusade Gundam! ❯ Vs Neo-Romania's Gundam Eidolon ( Chapter 1 )

The rain always came down hard in London. It seemed somewhat appropriate, given the nature of the day's upcoming event.

 

The rain splashed magnificently off of the many historical buildings, many having come from before the establishment of the Gundam Fight, and designed to last. Nowadays, no building was expected to last any longer than four years, and was designed as such.

 

The year was F.C 80, and the 18th Gundam Fight had begun. Scant weeks earlier, the fight had begun with the defeat of Neo-Holland's Nether Gundam MkIV by the Tsar Gundam of Neo-Russia. Once the match had been announced, few could doubt the outcome; Neo-Holland's tactics had changed little in the past twenty years, and never to any degree of success. By this battle in London, the Gundam Fight was well underway, but this was the first to occur in Neo-England.

 

Neo-England held an unusual history with the Gundam Fight. It's first success came from Graham Chapman in the Britain Gundam, who then went on to win two more championships, giving Neo-England the longest continuous reign over the colonies. However, things turned for the worse in the 12th Gundam fight, following a defeat by Master Asia, in Neo-Hong Kong's Kowloon Gundam. The following tournament heralded the appearance of the John Bull Gundam, again piloted by Chapman, but unfortunately the nation's pride was blotched due to Chapman's allegiance to the Devil Gundam, and ultimately, Neo-England failed to produce a Gundam Fighter for two decades following, as if in shame.

 

The rain continued. Mark Anderson felt each drop as it landed on his mobile fighter. He shut his eyes, and instinctively felt each and every drop that hit his mech. The time had almost come. His first battle in the Gundam Fight. His first battle to regain the honour of Neo-England. His fighter, the Crusade Gundam, stood out sorely in the bleak atmosphere generated by the weather. A medium sized, but imposing warrior, it carried a small shield on its left arm, and was curiously without weapon on the right arm. It was emblazoned in the national flag of Neo-England, a red cross on a white background. It was supposedly a symbol of an ancient warrior, who stood for justice or something like that. Mark didn't care. He had little love for the Gundam Fight anyway. He'd learned in school how it had been the cause of much of the destruction on earth.

 

He'd only reached 20 years of age, yet had lived through two separate incidents when all life on earth came under serious threat. Admittedly, he was only just born when the first Devil Gundam incident of FC60 occurred, but he experienced the terror with the beast's return in FC 73. Death nearly became a certainty.

 

But that was seven years ago. Far from the frightened young boy, this young man who stood ready for action had hardened his mind to such things. Instead, victory over his opponent was what mattered now. For the moment.

 

Alarms sounded in every direction, and the arena's shield soon rose. Following FC 73, rather than the free-roaming destruction of previous Survival Elevens, all proposed Gundam fights were to take place in arenas similar to those used by the host country during the Final Battle. Soon, the two fighters were alone together.

 

Across the arena stood his opponent. Neo-Romania's Gundam Eidolon. Draped in black wings, as if a cloak, it resembled the mythic vampire of yore. This image was enhanced by the blood red colour of the Gundam's 'beard', as if sanguine liquid was dripping from its mouth. Inside, a broad-shouldered man of imposing stature crossed his arms over his chest. His skin was pale, which made his jet black hair all the more striking. On his face was an expression that screamed confidence.

 

In contrast, Mark seemed far less deserving of being called 'Gundam fighter'. His body was smaller, but his muscles were no less developed because of this. His floppy brown hair was tied back for the moment, to prevent it getting in the way during the match. His breathing was also visibly heavy, signifying how the pressure was getting to him.

 

"Are you read, Vlad? " Mark clenched his fists, in anticipation.

 

“Of course, Mr Anderson.” His thick, low voice seemed to cut through treacle as each word came out.

 

“In that case....GUNDAM FIGHT!”

 

“READY!”

 

“GOOOOOOOO!”

 

The two mech dashed forward, interlocking fists in an almighty clash. In terms of strength, the two were evenly matched. Sparks flew as the struggle began, neither seeming to be able to get one up on the other. Their strength being even, Vlad and Mark soon realised this would be a battle of skill. This suited them both.

 

Both leapt back, and paused momentarily, as if planning their next move. Mark made his action the first. He withdrew a lance from a compartment in the Gundam's leg, and extending its length and range via a special mechanism. Swirling it above the head, he held it in one hand behind the body, and pointed a palm towards his opponent. As if in response, the Gundam Eidolon's wings instantly spread out, revealing the deep purple body underneath, a striking combination with the black colour scheme of the wings. The chest plate began to glow red, and Mark could hear Vlad's booming, low voice.

 

“An impressive lance. But that won't help, " Vlad sneered. Gundam Eidolon lurched forwards, quickly moving into a full-blown charge. Time seemed to halt for Mark at this point: What now? What tactic could halt this mad charge, and secure victory for Neo-England? He shook his head at such a thought. A victory for himself, he swiftly corrected.

 

The Gundam's charge was powerful, yet seemingly aimless. And here the weakness was. Mark swerved to avoid the attack, but soon found himself on the receiving end of one of the wings; evidently more than a mere decoration, he quickly realised. The force of the wings was enough to knock him to the ground. Before he could get up, the Gundam Eidolon suddenly appeared, hovering above the fighter.

 

“Honestly, to have fallen for such an obvious ploy. Is this the extent of your pathetic country's attempt to reclaim its glory days? “One of the wings flew down and stopped before the neck section of the mecha. The slightest force would behead the Crusade Gundam, and thereby result in instant elimination from the tournament. Sweat dripped from Mark's brow as he realised the intensity of this situation. He reviewed his remaining weapons; his lance had been knocked from his grasp by the wing, and his shield could do little to help at this point. Then he heard that same mocking laughter once more.

 

“Anderson, I feel almost embarrassed to have to prove the new weakness of Neo-England to the world. 20 years, and their new secret weapon is nothing other than a mewling brat. Face it, kid. You're not Gentle Chapman, and you never will be." These words set something off in Mark's mind. Rage. Humiliation. And a sense of failure, to himself. All these feelings conflicted in his head. He could feel his heart-beat increase. His breathing became heavier. Then, as if the pressure had gotten to him, he started to laugh. Vlad raised an eyebrow, in curiosity.

 

That was all the time needed. Using this sudden hesitation to his advantage, Mark managed to grapple the wing with both arms, and tore the offending point off. Hearing Vlad's screams, he felt rejuvenated and quickly leapt to his feet. He could hear the Neo-England crew yelling for him to finish it off.

 

Mark shut his eyes. Each muscle in his body tensed up, and he moved his arms in straight motions. One vertical line down. Another across. In the MTS, this motion became a cross, one which was grabbed by Mark, in preparation for his attack.

 

“So Vlad. When it comes down to it, you're nothing but talk. “The cross materialised in the Gundam's hands, blazing red, and exuding pure energy. He swirled around his body, leaving a blazing streak of force as it cut through the air. Holding the weapon in one hand, the Gundam thrust forward with incredible speed, and grappled the opponent with the other. Holding the Gundam Eidolon back with the free hand, Mark raised the cross high.

 

“Impossible! A runt such as yourself... “Vlad spluttered. He was losing his previous self-control, and as a result his fighting skills became lacking. Mark simply laughed in response.

 

“Take this! The ultimate weapon of Neo-England! GEORGE'S CROSS! “He thrust the weapon down with all of his might, and managed to shear off Vlad's fighter's arm. Hearing the screams of pain coming from his opponent, Mark knew his chance to win was now. Quickly, the cross was placed against the 'neck' of the Gundam Eidolon. “Well, shall we end this?”

 

Vlad, now regaining his composure, calmly smiled. “You should take a look behind you, brat.” Mark turned around, only to see the same wings he had torn off only moments prior now floating behind. Their points remained sharp, and poised ready to strike, and decapitate his Gundam.

 

“What!? How is that possible? "

 

“Watch your mouth, boy. The slightest twitch will send those wings flying through your miniscule frame. Likewise, your cross will slice my head clean off at that point. “Vlad chuckled.” This is quite the stalemate. Tell me, would you like to accept a draw? "

 

Mark hung his head low. He'd failed. Or at least, he had in the eyes of his country.

 

“...damn.”