I'm not the main character - a Gundam Unicorn Au Story

This has to be a dream

In the glow of the TV screen, a child's eyes widened as metal giants clashed and gunfire filled the air. "Someday," he whispered, "I'll pilot my own robot and save the world." With dreams in his heart, he declared "and I'll be the main character!"

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Miguel Martinez wiped the sweat off his brow as he walked out of the dilapidated warehouse that served as his workplace. The day had been long and grueling, with every muscle in his body aching from the physical labor. He longed for the comfort of his small apartment, where he could finally rest and escape the harsh realities of his world. As he made his way through the bustling streets, the fading daylight painted an orange glow on the horizon. The cacophony of car horns and distant chatter filled the air, a symphony of the city's ceaseless activity. Miguel's worn-out sneakers scuffed against the pavement as he quickened his pace, eager to leave the chaos behind.

"Hey, Miguel!" a familiar voice called out, interrupting his thoughts. Miguel turned to see his coworker and friend, Carlos, catching up to him. Carlos was a few years older than Miguel, with a rugged demeanor and a constant mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Hey, Carlos," Miguel replied, forcing a tired smile. "Long day, huh?" Carlos grinned and slapped Miguel on the back. "You know it, amigo! But hey, at least we're putting in the work, right?"

Miguel nodded, appreciating the camaraderie. He and Carlos had forged a friendship amidst the hardships they both faced, finding solace in their shared struggles.

"So, any plans for the weekend, Miguel?" Carlos asked, his voice laced with excitement.

Miguel sighed, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. "Not really, man. I'm just gonna take it easy. Maybe catch up on some sleep."

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Sleep? Come on, Miguel, you're 18! There's a whole world out there waiting for us. We should be out exploring, making memories."

Miguel chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe one day, Carlos. But for now, I need to focus on making ends meet, you know?"

Carlos paused, his eyes searching Miguel's face. "You know, Miguel, I admire your determination. But don't forget to live a little, too. Life's too short to be stuck in the grind all the time."

Miguel offered a small smile, appreciating Carlos' sentiment. "Thanks, Carlos. I'll keep that in mind." As they reached the corner, Miguel noticed a commotion up ahead. His eyes narrowed as he saw a group of hooded figures encircling a young girl. Panic filled her eyes, and Miguel's instincts kicked in. Without hesitation, he turned to Carlos. "Hey, stay here man and call the cops. I gotta go help her."

Carlos' eyes widened, concern etching his face. "Miguel, what are you saying. We don't know who these guys are, didn't you say you wanted to go to sleep -"

But Miguel was already charging forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't stand idly by while someone else was in danger. Fear, adrenaline, and a deep-rooted sense of justice fueled his every step. Carlos did as Miguel said and began to call the authorities.

As he approached the scene, the attackers' attention turned towards him, their eyes filled with malice. Miguel gritted his teeth, steeling himself for the impending confrontation. "Back off!" he shouted, his voice filled with determination. "Leave her alone!"

The assailants sneered, their faces masked in shadows. One of them stepped forward, cracking his knuckles menacingly. "Or what? You gonna play the hero, kid?" Miguel squared his shoulders, his gaze unwavering. "If I have to."

And then, chaos ensued. Blows were exchanged, each one a testament to Miguel's unwavering spirit. But the numbers were against him, and soon, his strength began to wane. In the midst of the onslaught, Miguel caught a glimpse of the young girl scrambling to safety. Relief washed over him, fueling his determination to protect her at all costs. But as the final blow struck, darkness enveloped his vision. Pain radiated through his body, and he felt himself falling, the sounds of the scuffle fading into the background.