Characters/Pairings: Lockon, Tieria; Setsuna, Lyle, Regene. Tieria x Lockon if you squint?
Warnings: None.
Notes: My take on "What if Lockon couldn't protect Tieria," or "What if Lockon had to chase after Tieria instead of the other way," or "Why doesn't Regene get more love." j/k, j/k. Credits to Jason Walker's Echo for the title and theme. Enjoy!

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[ Echo, Echo ]

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Veda has... abandoned me?

The connection was severed. The background buzz of information had been cut off. There was only darkness and silence engulfing him. Virtue drifted lifelessly along a current despair.

There was nothing left. Without Veda he...

I am...

—the one chosen to be a Gundam Meister, the one made by Veda for this purpose, and now he was—

"Tieria?"

The thought hadn't crossed his mind in the brief moment of darkness, but as the backup system had initiated again Lockon felt the sting of fear. Virtue had not reacted —Tieria had drifted too far away.

Or was he always this far apart?

—a failure? Or a successful specimen? One created to fulfil a role and then to be disposed of?

Somewhere in his mind, he knows it's logical. He's not human. He's a tiny extension of Veda that has lived up its usefulness. Like data discarded any other day after it's been read, analyzed, torn into pieces, turned into nothingness.

Red suddenly chased away the darkness. Blood red. It was slightly comforting. Fitting.

His fingers stretched towards the controls. The plan, he thought vaguely. The plan must keep going...

"Damn... Not fast enough!"

Lockon pushed Dynames to the limit, in a race against time, seconds trickled by and it was still so far away!

Tieria, move! he thought forcefully, as if his will alone would reach his comrade and wake him up from his stupor. He wouldn't make it in time, he just knew—

He saw the flash of red, an almost graceful unsheathing and his thoughts were no longer logical —move! No, stop! STOP! Get out of—!

Lockon fired.

There was no shock, no pain. He'd welcomed death with both arms wide open. It wasn't like last time when instinct had taked hold of him and he'd fought to survive. No, back then there was still Veda, there was still that connection he'd always know, the one he'd been born with.

There was still a chance back then. Not now. Everything was hopeless. Without Veda his existence was...

Warmth trickled out of his body. Everything was red —from the weapon stuck into his side, to his blood, to his eyes that would always remain that hue because there was nothing to connect to anymore.

He thought he heard a voice... But there was no one, he was alone in this sea of red and he dismissed it as a trick played by his mind.

Shutting down...

His head lolled on his shoulder, body drooping lifelessly forward.

Red. Blinding red. He finally closed his eyes and welcomed the darkness for the last time.

A second too late. A second too late.

The shot landed cleanly on the target, like expected —but it was already too late. A second too late was too much.

Dynames rammed into the enemy Mobile Suit, sending it into a safer distance before it blowed up into smithereens, or so he would like to think.

Lockon didn't waste any time calling out for him, he ripped away at the scraps of metal, reaching out—

His world shook. They were being fired upon relentlessly. Even with the shield, he— they—

"Lockon! Retrieve Virtue's GN Drive and retreat!"

No, he thought furiously. He wouldn't let it happen again: losing someone he cared about in front of his own eyes.

I... am really no good at this, am I, mother, father, Amy...?

Silence was heavy, suffocating. They had expected sacrifices, but perhaps not this soon. Or perhaps it was the first time everyone had felt so vulnerable. Without Veda, they had lost a Gundam Meister. It wasn't as if it was directly related, one would think, but for the crew of Ptolemaios, in that moment, the thought clouded their minds.

The hangar was a bit too empty. It was missing one fourth of the usual... It was like seeing that gaping hole in their hearts physically.

Though, maybe it was just him. Because Tieria —surprisingly, it didn't hurt pronouncing that name as much as he thought, as if he'd detached the name from the meaning behind it (he was just too stubborn to admit the fact that it hurt)— was never close to anyone.

But he had been there. It was someone who actually shared a meal with them in awkward silence or with harsh remarks earlier that day, but he had been there.

His fist slammed into the wall. He knew it was useless to blame anyone, to blame himself. Yet taking it out on his slow reaction, on his poor aim, on his panicking —it was easier to swallow it. He clenched his fist tighter.

Is this my only path forward? Revenge?

Lockon thought that afterwards, there would be glorious gratification. Or a twinge of happiness. Anything.

But not this feeling of emptiness that had him reduced to a mantra of "Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry... Lyle? Amy, mom, dad... sorry... I'm sorry..."

He drifted aimlessly in the space, the Earth a dimly lit globe that mocked him.

You are unfit to be a Gundam Meister, Lockon Stratos.

He blinked, trying to clear his vision enough to search for the source of the voice. The effort was fruitless, as some salty liquid blocked his view and threatened to suffocate him.

"Ne, Ribbons... you wouldn't object to me playing around a bit, would you?"