Gurren Lagann - mecha lord

Simon stood alone in a vast, barren field, his brow drenched in sweat as he struggled to control the Gunmen. The machine's movements were erratic, every adjustment Simon made only seemed to make the situation worse. His hands gripped the controls tightly, the palms of his hands slipping against the sweaty surface.

"Come on... focus!" Simon muttered to himself. He had been trying to master the Gunmen for weeks now, but it felt like every day was a new failure.

Each time he thought he was making progress, the machine would jerk out of control, throwing him off balance. His mind raced, thinking of Goro's steady guidance, Kamina's confidence, and the weight of expectations. He wasn't a child anymore. He had to prove he could fight just like the others.

He inhaled deeply, trying to clear his thoughts, but doubts crept in. "I'm not cut out for this..."

With a frustrated grunt, Simon slammed his fist against the control panel. The Gunmen responded by throwing a violent spin that almost sent him flying out of the cockpit.

"Damn it!" Simon shouted, the anger rising in his chest. "Why can't I get this right?"

He paused, breathing heavily. He could feel the weight of the spiral power surging through the machine, but he didn't know how to channel it properly.

Riggs stood off to the side, watching Simon struggle in the field. 

Riggs observed for a moment longer, and then approached slowly, his boots crunching against the rocky earth as he made his way toward the struggling young pilot.

"Simon," Riggs called out, his voice steady but firm.

Simon barely registered him at first, still absorbed in the erratic movements of the machine. When he finally turned his gaze to Riggs, there was a flicker of frustration in his eyes.

"Are you alright? You seem to be struggling a bit,"

"I-I know what I'm doing," Simon said as he gripped the controls even tighter, trying once again to steady the Gunmen.

Riggs raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "It doesn't look like it. You're trying too hard. The more you force it, the worse it'll get."

Simon's face flushed, his jaw tightening. "I... I just need to focus harder," he muttered, almost to himself, as he tried once more to make the Gunmen follow his commands.

Riggs sighed inwardly, stepping forward to place a hand on the side of the Gunmen's cockpit. "It's not about focusing harder. It's about letting go and trusting in the machine. And in yourself. You're trying to overpower it, but that's not how it works."

Simon shook his head, frustration clouding his expression. "I don't get it. I'm not strong enough. I can't control it."

Riggs studied him for a moment, seeing the self-doubt in Simon's eyes. He knew that feeling all too well. Still, it was something one can only understand with experience. 

"Look," Riggs said, his voice softening, "You don't need to be perfect right away. It's about finding the right balance, trusting your instincts and letting the machine become an extension of yourself." He paused, his gaze drifting toward the horizon, where the preparations for the raid were underway. "But I don't have time to teach you the long way right now. We've got a raid coming up. Work on it when you can."

Simon's eyes followed Riggs for a moment, but he didn't respond. Riggs could see he wasn't fully understanding, but at this point, there wasn't much more to say.

Without waiting for a response, Riggs turned to leave, his focus shifting back to the preparations for the raid. "Don't overthink it," he added, glancing back over his shoulder. "Just… let it come to you."

Simon remained silent, the weight of Riggs' words sinking in. Despite his initial resistance, he knew Riggs wasn't the type to give advice without meaning it.

As Riggs disappeared into the distance, Simon glanced at the Gunmen's controls again, his fingers hesitating for a moment. He took a deep breath, letting go of the tension in his body, trying to relax. Maybe Riggs was right. Maybe it wasn't about trying to force it.

The field was still and quiet for a moment, and Simon let the sound of his own breath guide him. With a small shift, he tried again, this time, a little less forceful, a little more trusting.

—

Riggs stood at the edge of the hill, gazing down at the city below. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the sprawling green fields that surrounded it. The air was warm, and there was a calmness in the scene before him, a stark contrast to the chaos of the wastelands outside their sanctuary. He could hear the laughter of children playing in the distance, the hum of machines working, and the faint chatter of people going about their daily routines. It was peaceful, too peaceful in his mind, given what the world outside was like.

This is what it's all about, Riggs thought, clenching his fists at his sides. Protecting this. Protecting them.

He thought of the life he'd lived before this, in the underground city. It had been nothing like this. People there were struggling every day, rationing food, living in constant fear of beastmen attacks. He remembered the feeling of hopelessness, the sense that there was nothing to fight for. But now, with the city bustling with life, with a future worth protecting, Riggs had found a new purpose.

For them. I will protect this place, no matter the cost.

His thoughts turned to Simon, the young pilot who was still finding his way. Riggs had watched him train, pushing himself in ways that were almost reckless, trying to master the Gunmen. He knew it wouldn't be easy for Simon. The kid had a lot of potential, but he was still learning, still growing. 

He's a smart kid, Riggs mused. He'll break through that wall. I have no doubt about it.

Riggs took a deep breath, pushing the weight of his thoughts aside for the moment. He could feel the familiar tension in his muscles as he prepared to shift his focus. The mission was coming up fast, and he couldn't afford to get distracted.

His eyes scanned the horizon one more time, locking onto the peaceful scene of the city before him. It was a reminder of what was at stake.

—

Beastmen factory

Adiane the Elegant, one of the Spiral King's four supreme generals, strode through the vast, dimly lit corridors of the Beastmen weapons factory. Her striking figure radiated authority, with her serpentine tail gliding smoothly behind her and her piercing eyes scanning every detail of the facility. Though the factory was a marvel of Beastmen engineering, churning out Gunmen parts and weapons day and night, the stench of oil and the oppressive heat disgusted her.

She was not in the mood for pleasantries.

"Madame Adiane," a trembling Beastmen worker said, bowing low as she approached. "Please feel free to inspect the quality of our production. We've been working tirelessly to meet the Spiral King's-"

"Silence!" Adiane snapped, her whip-like tail slamming against the metallic floor with a resounding crack. "Don't bore me with excuses. Your incompetence is the reason I've been dragged to this wasteland!"

The worker recoiled, lowering his head further, though he dared not make a sound. Adiane's reputation for her temper preceded her, and none of them wanted to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

Adiane turned her gaze toward the assembly lines, her narrowed eyes scrutinizing every detail. Rows of Gunmen parts were being processed, sparks flying from welding machines as Beastmen mechanics worked in tense silence. The factory's operations were efficient, but efficiency wasn't enough, not after what she had heard.

The humans had become a serious nuisance. The reports of their growing audacity angered her, but more than that, they intrigued her. These weren't just scattered remnants of humanity hiding underground. This was something more coordinated, more dangerous. They had taken out a commander-level officer and then vanished without a trace.

"How is it," Adiane hissed, her voice low but laced with venom, "that a group of pathetic humans is capable of such feats? You've been outfitted with the finest weapons the Spiral King has provided, yet you let them humiliate us."

The Beastmen worker dared to glance up, only to be met with Adiane's glare. He quickly averted his eyes again. "Th-they seem to have some kind of advanced technology, Madame. They disappear as if into thin air. Our trackers have-"

"Advanced technology?" Adiane interrupted, her tone dripping with disbelief. "Do you think I care for your excuses? Humans are nothing but insects. If they've grown bold enough to challenge us, it's because you've allowed them to crawl too far out of their holes."

Her tail coiled tightly around a nearby steel support beam, the metal groaning under the pressure before she released it with a snarl.

"Double the patrols. Triple them, if you must. I want this area combed for any trace of their hiding place. No one rests until these vermin are crushed," Adiane commanded, her voice echoing through the factory.

The worker bowed deeply again, nodding frantically. "Y-yes, Madame Adiane. It will be done immediately."

As the Beastmen scurried to carry out her orders, Adiane's lips curled into a sly smirk. She relished the thought of capturing these bold humans and showing them the price of defying the Spiral King.

"Humans think they can stand against us? How amusing," she muttered to herself, her whip-like tail flicking behind her. "Let's see how far their 'evolution' takes them when they're crushed beneath my heel."

Turning on her heel, Adiane began to make her way toward the observation deck. She needed to see the factory's full operational output before deciding on her next move. The humans were bold, yes, but boldness meant nothing without strength. And Adiane intended to remind them, and anyone else who dared to challenge the Spiral King, that Beastmen were the true masters of this world.