**[OPENING SCENE – NARRATOR (V.O.)]**
> *"In a world where memories fade like forgotten stars, and only the rusted remnants of war remain, some things never truly die. They wait… buried beneath time, until they're pulled back into the light."*
**[FADE IN: INT. DUNCAN'S APARTMENT – LATE NIGHT]**
*Duncan lies curled on his side on the worn orange couch, a thin blanket pulled up to his chest. The glow of his charging phone flickers weakly on the coffee table beside an empty bowl.*
*Rain hisses softly on the window to the left. The room is dim. Posters cut from old Gunpla Builder magazines hang in patchwork on the wall, worn out and curling at the edges. A mini fridge hums quietly. A single-burner stove sits under a shelf stacked with faded manuals. The Roman convenience meal he brought home earlier still sits on the counter.*
> *"And in the darkness of his dreams, an old machine calls.., its name carried on the wind of a thousand stars lost to time."*
**[DREAM SEQUENCE – LOW ORBIT OVER MARS, DEBRIS FIELD]**
*Black space stretches infinite, littered with shattered wreckage. A planet glows below. All is silent… until…*
*(ALARMS BLARE. SENSORS SCREAM. A red triangle pings on radar.)*
> *"He remembers an old cockpit, the hum of the engines, the cold embrace of metal. He remembers the name: 'G-WNGM-79C — CUSTOM GM WING.'"*
**COCKPIT – DUNCAN'S POV**
*Duncan, clad in a familiar flight suit, grips the controls with trained ease. The cockpit is alive with soft blue and red lights. The readouts are in a language he doesn't recognize, but somehow understands. His HUD flashes the details of his unit.*
**Unit: G-WNGM-79C — CUSTOM GM WING**
*A hybrid mobile suit—its silhouette sleek and angular, the rugged GM Custom body fused with the articulated feathered wings and forearms of a Wing Gundam. Its stormy blue-gray paint scheme gleams with white trim and metallic red accents, the same as the thrusters.*
> *"He is not the boy from Earth anymore. He is a soldier. A pilot. And the weight of battle is as familiar as the air he breathes."*
**DUNCAN (in-dream, calm):**
"Alright, let's see what you've got, old wings…"
The proximity alarm screams.
**ENEMY LOCKED — INCOMING.**
*A sleek, black-and-red **Wing Gundam variant** streaks in from the darkness, trailing plasma. Its aggressive fang-like paint job cuts through the blackness. It flips mid-flight and draws a **beam saber**, charging straight for Duncan.*
**TITON PILOT (radio):**
"You moon-dwelling trash heap! Your rustbucket shouldn't even be airborne!"
Duncan jerks back on the controls, sending the GM Wing soaring upward in a burst of angelic light from its feathered thrusters. The beam saber misses by inches. Duncan spins and draws his shield just in time—
**CLANG!**
*The impact rattles his teeth.*
**DUNCAN (calm, under his breath):**
"Old doesn't mean obsolete."
*The two mobile suits clash mid-air again and again, beams crossing, metal grinding, shots exchanged in dazzling patterns across the shattered satellites and wrecks of old colonies.*
**TITON PILOT (radio):**
"I'll send you back to whatever crater you crawled out of, Celestial Moon-Trash!"
*Duncan's eyes narrow. The phrase lingers in his mind like a psychic jab.*
**DUNCAN (gritting his teeth):**
"You talk too much."
*He disengages, pushing forward in a corkscrew. The GM Wing's thrusters burn bright as it twists through the debris field like feathers caught in a storm. He draws his custom rifle—painted matte black with red accents—and fires a burst.*
**Direct hit.**
*The enemy's shield shatters, sparks flying across the void.*
*Before the Titon pilot can recover, Duncan flips his suit forward and slams his boot into the enemy cockpit. The enemy unit spirals backward in zero-G.*
**DUNCAN (radio, cool):**
"Good night, asshole."
*He charges forward, locking in for the final strike.*
**[FADE TO BLACK | REAL WORLD – THUMP]**
---
**[SCENE 2: "One Man's Trash.."]**
**Narrator**
> *Duncan hits the floor hard, ripped out of dreamspace.*
> *His alarm blares—**BZZZZZZT**—while his phone buzzes endlessly. It's 9:42 AM.*
*He groans, rubbing the back of his head, blinking up at the ceiling.*
**DUNCAN (groggy):**
"…moon-trash…?"
*He sits up slowly, the dream still pulsing in his veins. He'd been piloting the old man's Gunpla—his Gunpla now—a GM Custom frame with the arms and wings of a Wing Gundam. Its inverted Unicorn palette still burned in his eyes. Blue-gray base coat, white accents, and those faint metallic red decals glinting on the shield, feet, and thrusters.*
*Across the room, sitting on a tiny scratched-up coffee table, the real thing rests under a dusty beam of morning light.*
*Duncan blinks. The alarm still buzzes.*
*He panics, scrambles to his feet, and rushes to the door, grabbing for his shoes and apron like muscle memory. Then he freezes;*
*...Oh. Right!*
*He'd gotten fired yesterday.*
*He lets out a long sigh, dragging his fingers down his face.*
**DUNCAN:**
"…Uhh, I got fired yesterday. F*ck me!"
*He shuffles back toward the couch and flops down. His eyes lock on the Gunpla again.*
*A grin tugs at his mouth.*
**DUNCAN (muttering):**
"F*ckin' Titans… they're just as bad as the Zeon Forces."
—
**NARRATOR**
> With no job, no calls, and no plans, Duncan did what he usually did when life fell apart,
> He grabbed his bike and rode like the wind might actually take him somewhere worth going.
> WallyWorld was about an hour out. The New Gunpla Arcade in the Upper District? Two and a half, uphill, and past the security gates.
> But what else was he gonna do? Sleep? Mope?
> He rode his bike as fast as he could, sweat beading down his back. He thought about the dream.
> About the GM-Wing.
> About how real it had felt…
---
WallyWorld's sliding glass doors hissed open with a squeal of poorly maintained sensors. Duncan coasted in through the main entrance, flipping up his hoodie and parking the bike just inside the lobby racks.
He made a beeline for the cold drinks cooler, yanked out a bottle of water, and began to walk over to the self-checkout aisle.
BLARE, FLASH,
Every TV in the electrics section erupted in a blue-white light, as the overhead speakers began to hum to life.
"Welcome to the future of Gunpla,"
A deep, modulated voice rang out as the image of a Gunpla hangar filled the screens.
Duncan's brow raised.
That was definitely a GBN-style intro—but there was no way this was just a game trailer.
The camera angle flew through the hangar,
Past technicians, through scaffolding, around loading cranes and storage crates,
Until it came to rest on a sleek, futuristic platform, one that looked like a downsized version of the G-ACE simulator pods.
Even though Duncan had only ever seen photos of the G-ACE, like the ones featured in *Builder Magazine* he saw last year, when they announced the development of the New Gunpla Arcade, the same exact one that opened earlier this year in the upper district of town.
The scene shifted to show a kid in branded gloves carefully setting a custom Astray Red Frame into the scanner dish. The helmet slid down, locking into place with a soft magnetic hum.
"Powered by next-gen G-System sync tech, the HBS-X2 is a fully integrated mobile battle platform designed to fit right in your home! With 1:24-scale precision sensors and real-time response latency under 5ms, it's the most immersive HBS unit ever produced!"
"Miniaturized from the G-ACE cockpits seen in PEC-certified arcades, the X2 unit offers the full battlefield experience, just scaled down."
"Scan. Sync. Strike."
"No more slamming models into clunky docks. Just set it, lock it, and launch."
A blazing font appeared across the screen as the camera panned across a futuristic home deck with **four** units stacked into a single rec room:
**HBS-X2**
"Build better. Battle harder."
Below that, flickering fine print:
***SRP: $49,999.99***
*(Payment plans available. Licensed PEC engineer installation required. Helmet calibration is not recommended for users under 13.)*
**DISCLAIMER:** *System use and helmet calibration are recommended for users ages 13-50. Equipment is not eligible for GBBP or Gunpla Breaker Battle Points. Only PEC-approved arcade units may distribute official League Ranking XP.*
The screen faded to black. Duncan was still holding the cold water to his face, frozen.
**DUNCAN (quiet):**
"…Fifty grand?"
> He didn't know what burned hotter, his jealousy or his ambition.
> He wanted to *touch* one. See how close it really felt.
> He wanted to know if that battlefield in his dream was just fantasy or foreshadowing.
He twisted the cap off, chugged the rest of the bottle, and crammed it in his bag.
**DUNCAN (firm):**
"…I have to get to the New Gunpla Arcade. I need to see if those HBS-X2's actually look like the G-ACE's."
> He kicked off from WallyWorld like his wheels were jet thrusters,
> He had to see for himself if the HBS-X2 was even half as slick as an actual G-ACE,
> Even if he could only get the chance to see the G-ACE through the front window…
> But it seems life had other plans for Duncan.
—
Absolutely—here's your scene with the suggested additions smoothly woven in:
---
**EXT. UPPER DISTRICT – LATER THAT DAY**
**NARRATOR**
> *The sun felt warm as Duncan pedaled his bike through the cracked streets, his backpack snug on his shoulders, the water bottle hanging from a side pocket.*
> *Eventually, he found himself in the Upper District, cruising near the rows of bright shops and cleaner sidewalks. The GUNPLA ARCADE sign gleamed in the distance, but for some reason, something else caught his eyes today...*
*Up ahead, a kid, maybe 10 or 12 years old, was struggling to fit a couple of things into a trash bin next to the road before heading inside with a large box he got from his parents' car.*
*Duncan slowed as he passed.* A glint of metal and plastic caught his eye.
*When the kid finally made it inside, Duncan circled back and peeked into the trash can… and There It Was.*
**An entire HBS Dock with a GP Base still attached.**
..The handheld scanner that looked kinda like a phone, ..it was barely scratched, but otherwise perfectly intact;
And below it was a slightly used HBS unit. Obviously not last year's model, but still new enough.
It was an entire home use kit, with the visor, gloves, and foot bands all bundled up together. It was entry-tier stuff, but still VR compatible... And *Someone* had just thrown it out like garbage.
*What a waste.*
*Duncan stared down at the gear like it was a lifeline. One good battle rig.., just one chance to shine.., could be the break he's been waiting for his whole life.
This was his chance to prove he still had a shot at his dreams.
..His dreams of becoming a professional Gunpla Pilot.*
*He paused, then glanced down the alley;*
> **No one's around. Now is my only chance.**
*He reached in, pulling the gear out one by one, checking the pieces carefully... But before he could tuck the final piece into his bag…;*
**KID (offscreen, shouting):**
"Hey! Mom! Someone's going through our trash again!"
*The front door slammed open, and out came a furious-looking woman, followed by a big guy in a blue lab coat. The man marched toward Duncan with heavy steps.*
**MOM:**
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
**DAD:**
"Who the hell are you, dumpster diving through our crap?"
*Duncan stood up, holding the items like they were the most casual thing in the world. His jaw tightened, his frustration from earlier—being fired, the lack of progress—built up to something bigger now.*
**DUNCAN (shrugging, nonchalant):**
"You don't need it. Don't even know why you're tossing this stuff out, it looks perfectly fine to me. Just think of it as… recycling."
**MOM (yelling):**
"No, That's our stuff! You can't just steal from us!"
**DAD (louder):**
"Yeah! Get the hell out of here before we call the cops!"
*Duncan stood there for a moment, holding up his backpack and the visor, like it was the most casual thing in the world. His jaw clenched tighter as the frustration flared in his chest: Pablo taking his money, getting fired, feeling stuck, his dreams always just out of reach… And now being yelled at for trying to salvage something useful? It boiled over.*
**DUNCAN (mocking, but serious):**
"Heh, really? You're gonna waste all that energy on some old tech you're just throwing away? Alright, fine. I'll tell you what;
…One match. Winner takes the lot. If You beat me, I'll give you your trash back, you can call the cops, .. and I'll even let them arrest me.
..But if I win, Then I get to keep this right here and go on my way. Sound fair?"
*The woman looked at him, fuming, and about to speak;
But the kid stepped out from the house, holding a fresh, shiny, brand new **GP Base** in his hand, clearly excited by Duncan's words.*
**KID:**
"Hey Mister, I'll battle you. My new GP Base and Home Battle System, versus whatever junk you're stealing!
…I'll show you just how strong my Gunpla building Skills are!"
*The mom hesitated, clearly unsure, but the dad, after seeing the kid's eagerness, grinned.*
**DAD (grinning smugly):**
"You've got guts... I'll give you that.
But guts alone don't build Gunpla, and they sure as hell don't win battles.
*He pauses, before looking back at his son.*
"*Hahaha* Alright my boy, let's do it then. …We'll see if this stray is good enough to take this junk from us."
** He looks back at Duncan and says;*"
"alrighty then, follow me to our game room.
I'll get everything set up for the battle."
*Duncan's grin spreads as he is invited into their home. ..He honestly didn't think his plan would work, but now that it has.., he wasn't backing down! ..This was about more than the old tech; Now, it was about pride.*
---
[INT. FAMILY HOME – ENTRYWAY – EVENING]
The front door closes with a soft thud behind Duncan. He follows the boy and his father into the house, still unsure what exactly he agreed to. The inside is quiet, normal, even. No flashy posters or Gunpla parts in sight. Just a regular house.
They move past the kitchen, down a short hallway. The air smells faintly like solder and old plastic, but it's subtle, nothing that jumps out until they reach a heavy door near the end of the hall.
BOY'S FATHER (without turning):
"This way."
He unlocks the door with a heavy clunk.
---
*[INT. BASEMENT – GAME ROOM]
*As the door opens, the atmosphere shifts. Lights hum to life, revealing a sleek, custom-built game room. The temperature drops slightly from the cool machinery at work. Three completed HBS-X2 VR cockpits stand in a clean line, bathed in gentle overhead light. A fourth unit sits half-finished in the corner, its exposed frame is a clear work-in-progress.*
*Duncan stops in his tracks. His eyes go wide. This isn't some hobby setup... it's high-end, industrial, if not professional. It's a far cry from the scrap-built corner rigs he's used to seeing in Builder magazines.*
**DUNCAN (quietly, impressed):**
"...Whoa. It's like a miniature arcade in here."
**BOY'S FATHER:**
"There's no point in hooking that junk in your backpack up. If you want to battle, you're going to use one of those."
*He holds out his hand, pointing to one of the HBS-X2s.*
**BOY'S FATHER:**
"Hand me your GP Base. …I mean, the one you pulled from my trash can."
*Duncan blinks, caught off guard, but slowly reaches into his backpack and pulls out the lightly beat-up GP Base unit. The father examines it, then casually pops off the back plate and presses a little button with a pick after removing the battery. A few seconds later, a soft chime rings out as the system resets.*
Duncan watches as the father resets the GP Base, a soft chime echoing through the room.
BOY'S FATHER:
"Here you go."
He hands the GP Base back to Duncan.
BOY'S FATHER:
"Make an account, it's required to play. I'll set everything up while you do."
Duncan nods and starts working on setting up his account on the GP Base. The father watches him for a moment, then steps away. He walks over to one of the fully assembled HBS-X2 rigs and starts adjusting some controls with quick precision.
As Duncan types, the father looks around to ensure no one is watching. He taps a few hidden buttons on the console near the rig, and a small holographic display flickers to life. He quickly sets up a private event, ensuring that the registration and prize system are customized to his own, unseen preferences.
Duncan, focused on the screen of his GP Base, doesn't notice. The father smiles slightly to himself as he finishes the setup and walks back over to Duncan, who's now nearly done with his account.
Duncan finishes entering his details, pressing a confirmation button, and looks up. His expression is a mix of anticipation and curiosity.
DUNCAN (muttering to himself):
"Let's see if this thing actually works…"
His screen flashes with his details as they're saved:
**Builder Name: Jamison Duncan
Nickname: MoonTash55
Pilot Name: Jamison Duncan
Current Gunpla: GM Winged Phantom**
BOY'S FATHER
(nods approvingly)
"Good, now grab your Gunpla, go sit down, and set your unit on the scanner dock."
Duncan nods and moves to the shelf where his GM Winged Phantom is resting, carefully lifting the model. He walks to the cockpit rig and places the Gunpla on the scanner dock. The machine hums softly as the scanning process begins, a light sweeping across the model from top to bottom.
**BOY'S FATHER** (to his son)
"Okay, your turn… Corey. Grab a Gunpla and get in the seat."
Corey lights up and darts over to the display shelf. He picks out his custom unit;
**GM Ironstride** a rugged, close-combat powerhouse.
**Corey's Gunpla – GM Ironstride**
- **Frame**: Standard XYZ Frame
- **Head**: GM Ground-type with a Zaku II mono-eye mod
- **Torso**: Gouf Custom chestplate with reinforced power vents
- **Arms**: Dom left arm with elbow bracing; Zaku II right arm with spiked knuckles
- **Legs**: Gouf legs with mag-tread grips for rough terrain
- **Backpack**: Heavy booster unit with grenade rack
- **Melee Weapons**: Heat club and boot-holstered combat dagger
- **Ranged Weapons**: Wrist-mounted autocannon and a medium beam rifle
He brings the model to his rig, sets it gently on the **scanner dock**, and climbs into the cockpit. The scanner activates, reading the Gunpla's specs and preparing the sync.
Meanwhile, the father crosses the room to a secured case and selects his own build;
**Gundam Requiem Shade**. Sleek, sharp, and predatory.
**Father's Gunpla – Gundam Requiem Shade**
- **Frame**: Lightweight XYZ variant
- **Head**: Deathscythe helm with twin sensor vanes
- **Torso**: Modified Crossbone Gundam core with stealth sub-systems
- **Arms**: Freedom-style left arm with built-in beam dagger; Deathscythe right with energy conduit ports
- **Legs**: Astray Red Frame legs for agility and aerial mobility
- **Backpack**: Deathscythe Hell's wing array, folding stealth thrusters
- **Melee Weapons**: Beam scythe, arm-mounted vibro-blade
- **Ranged Weapons**: Twin pulse pistols in hip holsters
He places his Gunpla on its scanner dock, then turns back toward Duncan.
**BOY'S FATHER** (nodding to Duncan)
"Good. Now plug in the overhead line and put your helmet on."
Already seated, Duncan reaches up, pulls down the overhead tether, and connects the jack to his helmet's port. He slides the helmet over his head and adjusts the fit.
A soft hum fills the cockpit as the system powers on.
**SYSTEM PROMPT (in-helmet HUD)**
> Please grip both control sticks to initialize pilot sync.
Duncan grips the controls.
**SYSTEM PROMPT**
> Sync in progress… Standby…
Blue light floods the interior. Holograms form around him;
Gauges, monitors, radar maps. One by one, they lock into place. His Gunpla appears in virtual space, standing in a launch bay. The world begins to take shape.
[SCENE END]
—
**SCENE 4: Old Wings, First Flight!**
*A booming voice echoes through the cockpits.*
> **SYSTEM ANNOUNCER (V.O.):**
"All players locked in. Cockpits calibrated. VR time sync confirmed."
> **SYSTEM (V.O.):**
"Gunpla Battle: Start-up phase complete. Launching units in… 3… 2… 1;"
Duncan grips the controls awkwardly, muscles tight, brow furrowed in focus. This was it, his first Gunpla battle.
His custom model, the **GM-Wing**, flickers into life in the canyon map. A lanky machine with mismatched armor, long shoulder fins like a GM Striker, and repurposed flight boosters clipped onto its back. Its legs were reinforced from a G-Armor tank variant, and the shield looked cobbled from a Victory Gundam's forearm plate. The whole thing looked *weird*, ..but fast.
**DUNCAN (quietly):**
"Okay... let's see if this even works."
He nudges the controls. The GM-Wing lurches forward, then immediately **stumbles** across the canyon floor like a drunken ragdoll.
**DUNCAN:**
"WHOA, shit!!"
His model flails wildly, legs kicking up dust and scraping stone, before he can stabilize himself.
**KID (mocking through the comms):**
"*Hahaha* Wow, you're bad at this... I bet you couldn't even do a diagonal dodge while boosting!"
At first Duncan hesitates, then decides to try it anyway. The dash throws him off balance **again**, but this time, the GM-Wing flips forward in a full **somersault** across the ground.
**DUNCAN (shouting):**
"DAMMIT..!"
*BZZZEEEW!*
A pink beam flys through the air and **slams** into Duncan's shield, and he skids to a stop. Sparks burst across the screen.
**KID:**
"Hah! Gotcha."
*Duncan growls, flipping his suit upright.*
As Duncan stumbles upright, he catches a glimpse of the first threat. Perched on a rocky cliff just off to the right, the **GM Ironstride** stands poised…
Corey's compact brawler of a Gunpla, already moving in for the kill.
The **GM Ground-type head** gleams beneath the sun, its mono-eye tracking every step Duncan makes. The **wrist autocannon** ticks into position with a low whir as he locks on, and his **heat club** is already in his hand.
**DUNCAN:**
"…Tricky little bastard…"
Behind Duncan, a sharp *alert ping* sounds. Another presence lands behind him with a ground-shaking *THUD*.
Towering above the canyon floor, the **Gundam Requiem Shade** rises in a burst of dust and silent menace. Its **stealth-coated wing array** folds inward like blades, vanishing into the haze. The **Deathscythe helm** gleams, vanes flickering with sensor data.
Its **beam scythe** ignites with a low hum, and one of the **pulse pistols** twirls into the dad's waiting hand.
**DAD:**
"You challenged both of us. Don't look so surprised."
**DUNCAN (glaring):**
"You Zeon coward.. You dare ambush me."
The **Requiem Shade** lunges, wing boosters firing in a short burst. *CRASH!*;
The beam scythe cleaves into Duncan's shield, throwing the **GM-Wing** across the canyon floor in a spray of grit and sparks.
**DUNCAN (gritting his teeth):**
"…Alright… alright… No more faceplants…"
He stares at the booster controls, eyes scanning the cluster of toggles and switches. His fingers hover just above them, trying to memorize where everything is. Then his eyes catch something odd in the corner of the HUD—**a button labeled "Hover Mode"** under the backpack systems.
**DUNCAN (under breath):**
"Screw it, walking sucks anyway..."
He slams the button. The **GM-Wing** jolts as its mismatched boosters sputter, then kick in. The suit **lifts off**, barely a meter off the ground. The thrusters whine and hiss as the unit starts to **hover**, steadying out just enough to hold altitude.
For the first time, the controls feel responsive. Nimble. Like the weight finally makes sense.
**DUNCAN:**
"…Huh. That feels a lot better."
He shifts forward, **hovering low** along the canyon floor. The **GM-Wing** weaves between rocks and outcroppings, adjusting angles and thrust like it was built for this. Every few meters, he taps the shield into position to block a beam, jukes out of the way, and cuts corners like he's skimming the edge of control.
It doesn't feel perfect—but it feels like he belongs here. Maybe not great, but **good enough**.
Corey tries to take another shot from the ledge, the **GM Ironstride** locking on and firing its autocannon.
Duncan banks hard—**diagonal dodge**.
The shot misses. He slams the throttle forward, skimming the canyon edge, engines screaming as he cuts a sharp curve behind the cliff. A quick rise in elevation, **he boosts over the ridge**, and appears **right behind** Corey's Gunpla.
His beam pistol already raised.
**ZAP—!**
A single clean bolt pierces straight through the back of the **GM Ironstride's** head unit. The mono-eye sputters and dies. The frame staggers, then **explodes at the neck** in a flash of virtual flame.
**KID (shocked):**
"NO..!"
**HUD:**
> "Player One, Eliminated."
---
**[SCENE 5 – Victory!]**
**INT. COREY'S GAME-ROOM – LATER THAT DAY**
The dad pulls off his headset, rubbing the back of his neck as he exhales. Arms crossed, he watches the VR rig power down.
Corey sits frozen, mouth slightly open, still processing the outcome.
**DAD:**
"…Well I'll be damned."
(beat)
"Alright. A promise is a promise… Take your junk and get outta my house."
Duncan pulls off his headset with a wide grin. He doesn't gloat—just grabs his gear with a newfound confidence.
**DUNCAN (grinning):**
"*Hahaha* Gladly. And hey… thanks, kid. That tip really helped."
(he slings the bag over his shoulder)
"I can tell you're gonna be a solid pilot someday."
Corey blinks, then manages a small nod. He almost smiles.
The dad watches Duncan for a beat—then gives the slightest nod of approval.
**DAD (gruff, but genuine):**
"…Good flying out there. That hover play was sharp. Keep practicing like that, and you'll go far."
**DUNCAN:**
"I plan to."
With his first win under his belt, Duncan bags up his new equipment and heads out, his steps just a little lighter than before.
Final scene:
Duncan stands outside Corey's house, backpack slung over one shoulder. The glow of sunset hits the visor still clutched in his hand. He turns away with a grin, walking off down the street.