Confront Your True Self!

by The Qing

The finale to the season that never was! The end of the universe...Gurren Lagann style! With Spiral Nemesis Approaching and reality itself sickening, Simon must confront the Spiral Masters the horrors they represent, and his own past, to save all that is.

Confront Your True Self!

Or "It all comes down to a point!"

Disclaimer: I so wish I owned Gurren Lagann, and all that Yoko-I mean Gurren Lagann merchandise. But I don't, and those products are out of my price range.

Author Note: After watching all 27 mindblowing episodes of Gurren Lagann and all 8 Parallel Works, I felt the inescapable urge to write an epic fanfic pseudo-sequel for the ages! However, lacking any real time with Senior Year kicking my butt, making said epic would be infeasible. So, taking a page out of Grindhouse logic (or lack thereof), since I couldn't write the whole damn thing, I'd just write a super long two shot with all the best bits!

You'll be thrown in media res (in the middle of things) though I'll try to make it as accessible as possible.

Also, to convey the absolutely mind-blowing majesty of the Shredd, stream of thought, Kerouac-style language will be employed, so as not to literally blow your minds with how sublime a weapon bigger than the universe looks.

Plot Summary: The Spiral Masters hurtle with petty rage to clash at the keystone of the cosmos! Entire universes shatter to their mad charge and even the Anti-Spiral Squadron finds itself crippled at their slightest movement! With only moments before everything vanishes in a nova of boredom and insanity, an old hero goes to confront the horrors that threaten all that is...

Rated T for the repetitive use of "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK (INSERT PRONOUN) AM/ARE?, some harsh language and existentialist stuff.

Trailer: (unknown woman's voice) "To await the day, when angels are not needed, is never folly." That was a haiku I wrote, back in the good days, back in the bright days. I'm having an exhibition of some of them if you'd care to see. The Time: The End. The Place: The Keystone of the Cosmos. Please drop by. Next: "It all comes down to a point!" Good Luck.

Introduction: (narrator) This is the end of a story of immeasurable courage and insurmountable folly. As the forces of the Spiral Masters blaze forth to usher in the epic clash of their masters, the sheer force of the conflict begins to crack the sky. While his friends keep them at bay, Simon and the Anti-Spiral Squadron use Prospero to confront the Spiral Masters before they collide. He creates the Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann Solo which, so as not to put anyone else in danger, can be piloted alone. It does not last…

-

"GET OUT OF THE UNIVERSE!" The voice was shrill, frenzied; an almost pure vocal distillation of fright that could not possibly be imagined to pronounce anything short of panicked sobs. "I TRIED RUNNING TO THE VERY EDGE OF TIME AND TO ITS BEGINNING! BUT THEY'RE COMING IN BOTH DIRECTIONS, TOO FAST FOR TIME TO EVEN COLLAPSE PROPERLY AND TOO HUGE TO FIGHT! NOWHERE TO RUN! NOWHERE!"

-

It was strange, even on the very fringes of existence his memories of that terrorizing declaration still held as all else leaked and dissolved in his memory.

Another flitted and collected itself from his exhausted mind.

-

"Don't you just love the way things are? So connected and whole?" a caring wholesome tone sighing, but with enthusiasm and passion threatening to break out of the lament as its speaker began to alter the planet's magnetic field. "The mountains, the sky, the stars…the women." A small swoon characterized the last phrase. "Why anyone would want more is beyond me. Maybe they haven't looked. Shame, lots to cherish."

-

Everything was so small from where he was: the people, the planets, the stars, the senseless carnage as they were all torn to pieces by Cosmic Gales.

-

A vision of a staggering metal giant, its chest marked with a furious, tiger-like face. "…payback time." It whispered, raised fists that could split cities, fatigue dissipating, a murderous charge commenced.

-

He looked about the small space he found himself, all dark, luminescent controls dead from straining against the inconceivably vicious. Though he could not look out or within he knew that the engines that harvested the energy of creation were either dead or silent, the armor penetrated and metal limbs that could wield galaxies as weapons were gone and useless. Even its size, which once dwarfed the cosmos, was diminished, insignificant before something far greater and terrible in breadth and danger.

-

Suddenly he was back in Kamina City, trapped within a purple sphere of energy, being intimately crushed by an enemy that had until recently opened doors, delivered messages and worked late shifts for many of the City's residents. Not a great way to make his big comeback. "It's easy to forget." The wretch mused as calming energies and painkillers flowed into the cockpit to make his death as painless as possible. "That when you charge blindly forward with no consideration, you risk trampling everything under your feet. That's very rude and I thought maybe if you survive you could tell people it is. Maybe"

-

No such luck though, the infernal helix with the remains of broken moons and fallen galaxies still stuck on its infinite curves would ensure he never would.

-

Melancholy stained this new memory. a ruinous, bitter echo through the mists. "You run away from your problems with reckless abandon, you think you run towards something: goals, conquest, happiness. But you humans are all trying to outrun something." He desperately looked around for the source, drill and battlecry at the ready. "Greatest among these are consequences and sorrow. For even to think of what you have done or what you have lost would reduce you to an immobile wreck." He tried blasting through the fog, trying to twirl it to his whim, but the vapors seemed to choke the life from his attempts. "But under this cloud smeared sky that will save all existence you will lose momentum, driving you to confront your misery and reassess all that you hold true." He could almost feel huge, mournful eyes, glowing with the brilliance of a million funeral pyres opening behind the Gurren Lagann. "PERISH. DESPAIR. REFLECT." He found himself flung into the cloud filled sky, smashed against the relentless rain by a cataclysmic blast of woe. "In that order."

-

"I'm doing a lot of the last two right know." He chuckled sadly to himself. "But now that I think about it, maybe starting from that order wouldn't have been so bad."

Though far from anything he would consider lucky, his newfound melancholy prevented terror from taking over his body when he felt what was left of the Tengen Toppa Gurrenn Lagann Solo move toward his enemy, pulled by the same forces that broke it to slag moments (was it moments?) before.

He banged a fist on the blank screen in front of him, causing it to sputter out visuals that showed it was indeed drawing him in. The spin was bringing him in slowly, but would soon twist and swirl with sudden violence when it finished charging. Just like the countless other drills around it.

A small movement on the rightmost screen caught his attention. At first he thought they were stars that somehow escaped being consumed during the battle. He then squinted through the broken lenses of his shades and saw it was the "remnants" of the Anti-Spiral Squadron forming a perimeter over a small area of space. A last stand to protect the keystone of the cosmos, where matter retreated toward and energy drained into, the focal point of the universal spiral. It was small, brilliant in the growing void. "And doomed to break." He thought to himself.

A small stab of pity pierced him as he briefly thought of his strange, new allies. Bizarre how circumstances could change the way one looks at the world. He had left them far behind in his blind charge toward the enemies of all that existed, berating them for trying to slow him down. He had every right to hate them. They infiltrated human society, trying to stop it from growing, expanding. Drowning the relentless drive of human passion with fear, anger, sorrow and strangely love, compassion and tranquility. Emotions as weapons! When that didn't work, or they were revealed for what they were, they summoned their machines; colorful, vast, and deceptively angelic robotic beings that possessed unusual but devastating abilities. They had also tried to kill him and everyone he cared about, which also ticked him off. Not as much as the fact that they were right about the Spiral Nemesis though.

"HeY sHItHEads!" screeched a cracked and terrible sound without origin or reason. "aLL YoU FReakS get Out oF MyWAY!" A rapport that resounded throughout the null, everywhere but nowhere, creating tiny cracks in what slim vestiges of matter remained.

The man shook as he felt every brash and destructive decibel of the cacophony rip through his mind. An acute pain he could strangely appropriate to having his brain stabbed by a letter opener.

The Squadron did not budge.

A bad decision. Didn't they know what they were dealing with? Oh yeah, they did. He just didn't listen.

"TrICKs wON't WoRK!" threat overlapped and violated whatever sense of warning the phrase possessed. "-nOne CAn. JuST LoOk At MeeeEEEEeee!"

The beaten man gulped. He had attempted to do just that (and then some) moments (minutes, hours, years?) before and was crushed by what he saw. But the words of the ultimate bringer of ruin were so great, that his burnt-out mind that had endured the dominion of Beasts and Cosmic Beings, was compelled to steal a glance at the Shredd, if only to satisfy it.

Onyx ocean black with the tragic earths and misc splayed and dead fossilized subtly to menace and decorate-like fish. Negative glowsticks abound sucking fat suns and skinny light convexings of the eye make blind the prolonged tourist goer. Fiery morte portrait skull face wearing broken glass on marrow bridge, splayed graffiti by cosmic delinquents, bubbles under the paint all leather looking 3d? Tower-wall-floor-roof restricting nagging all over me, all across back forward, all it, all the time, all around. Drills bits reaching high, mega high, hard to see all, all stuck on ship as dropped ice cream cones on tar, only more tragic and Armageddon bringing. Like big metal soup fingerer in Tomorrow, today, yesterday someday, otherday, noday, days in other calendars parallel to summer school bingo. Slow twist, easy to see as you can tell its spinning. There not there, too big to fit in one place, one universe, fading-hardening, can't hit, never could. Wild mad architecture fits big bang bubblegum popper…ow.

And then, as he was still looking at the incomprehensible menace, he heard it. He felt almost robbed as the cosmos shuddered and cracked, as if trying to bow to the words that once brought him so much hope.

"-sSSSSZZZZZZPPppppPPPPIIIIIIIiiiiiiNNNNNNn-----------------."

Almost immediately, the Squadron began to writhe and fidget. Something was wrong. No, everything was. He felt he should cry, the battle cry his brother and he shared in those happy days, those days that were collapsing on themselves as time did, now being used like this. It couldn't be, the behemoth that stole his love away in a show of light and brief promises couldn't be right. It couldn't come to this. Perverted, distorted, a sinister reflection of his passion. Truly beaten now, he closed his eyes, already imagining the drill key being jammed ruthlessly into a panel, the spinning corrupted light, the wild acceleration of the drills, and himself accepting complete oblivion.

"-o000000000000000OOOOOOOOooooooNnNnNNNNnnnnnNNNNNnn!!!!!"

And then the bonds between universes silently snapped, and all was cast aside and shattered as the Shredd and its mammoth other moved toward each other.

-

Mercifully, briefly, he recalled a day without end in the luxurious Petal, Ray and Snow beach resort, sustained by a huge, but otherwise harmless invader. After they had beaten it, the creature was asked why it had repeated that one day over and over. It flashed an uncanny grin and camly asked, "Haven't you ever had a perfect day?"

Simon…

-X-

When he awoke in a green chalk scratched field, the first thing Simon thought was that the residents of oblivion must have had an affinity for baseball. Seeing as how the only resident sans himself, was occupied in a batting cage nearby, this presumption had some credence to it.

The young man shakily began to make his way there, taking a few tentative steps before collapsing. He crawled for a bit, noting the empty seats in the stadium, the void where the roof should have been and the blank posters advertising nothing but null. After a few meters Simon collapsed a second time.

"How much further?" he asked, softly cursing the ground. He tried to look up and see how far he had to go, only to find himself suddenly seated outside the batting cages.

The batter took a moment to hit another homerun into the inky blankness. "Yo." He said finally.

Unsure of how he got there and even more unsure of what to say, Simon's reply was lost to wherever unspoken words go. For a moment, he thought he saw it floating in the air.

Another swing, a crack like stereo thunder. "Wanna go for a swing?"

To this, Simon could answer. "No, I don't play."

The stranger chuckled. "It's easy man. Greatest part of the game. One of the few reasons people ever played it." He looked at Simon, his features impossible to discern despite the closeness. "Come on." Simon blinked and was somehow on his feet, bat in hand, facing the pitching machine. "Swing the bat Mr. Driller!" the batter yelled, or ordered, from where Simon had sat moments before.

Simon missed the first one, the next whizzed past his chest, the third nearly took his head off. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to even try. There was something…familiar with the small spheres that prevented him from even thinking about hitting them. Each one was precious, unique, even as they disappeared behind him. These thoughts and himself were shoved aside by the batter.

"Dang, even for an old timer you're slow." He snatched the bat from Simon's all too accommodating hands. "Do I need to slow things down to show you how it's done?" he pointed his hand at the machine like a gun before snapping it up. The machine shot out another ball, but this one was moving slow that even the fatigued Simon thought he could hit it. At this speed he could clearly make out its features. On it was an exquisite pattern, swirling whites on a beautiful blue background with odd shaped of green, brown and silver being revealed as the ball rotated. Like the others, it carried with it an aura of familiarity. He recalled seeing something like it in his adventures, back when they still existed, suspended in space, wondrous and brimming with life and sunshine, like a-. No, it couldn't be, but it was...

"Stop!" he shouted and suddenly found the strength to push the stranger out of the way. "That's my worl-." He was cut off when the planet suddenly broke out of its sluggish charge and barreled into this stomach, propelling him through the stadium walls and into the unknown.

The batter briefly regarded the gaping hole left behind before resuming his stance. "HEh, lousy catcher too." the batter chuckled before smashing a galaxy into the stands.

-X-

Despite being socked in the stomach by a heavenly body, Simon (or the parts of him that were still conscious) was thankful that he was tumbling backward, that implied that there was a floor under him, instead of an endless abyss.

"-AnD AfTeR HelPLESSly rOl-LinG foR w-HAT S:Eemed l!ke ages. He sKided to A HaULT."

And Simon did, hard.

Tiredness washed over the pain he would've felt under normal circumstances. The floor was hard and cold but could suit his need, they remindinded him of his old bed in Jeeha village where the mattresses, like most everything there, had been stone. His eyes remained closed, a silent request to slumber for a little-.

"BUuuut hiZ CURIouS naTRE, ThATE HaDD perZIZteDD fr0M thoSS-(ugh, lame!) 'cherished days' c0mPElled hiM to oP3N them."

There was no helping it, he opened his eyes.

"Where am I?"

OOOOOO

The cornerstone of the universe was to the select few who could actually see it, a big glowing ball of light; pretty to look at, but serving a purely aesthetic function in the universe. To the fewer who knew what it was, the object was of monumental importance to the fabric of reality. It was the focal point where Spiral energy swiveled inward and flowed opposite. Everything concentrated and being distributed simultaneously. Independent of time and space, it maintained balance of all points of time, every moment, every object, every moment with an object, could attribute its integrity to this sublime center.

It was not without its limits though. Massive abuse of Spiral Energy with the outflow could result with the core destabilizing, effectively breaking the universe. Still, it would take an incredible amount of Spiral Energy to actually bring about the end of all things. That or a remorseless prick with a gigantic, dimension tearing drill.

Surrounding the quintessence of energy, were junked scraps of metal. Scraps that despite their being torn, retained a somber, whitish hue, like funeral clothes in Japan. Much like those of their former enemy, these disparate shards once constituted a formidable force for universal stability. Now, feet that could run through time were stilled, fists that once pushed planets into the sun were broken, arms and legs that enveloped allies in impenetrable embrace lay splayed, polarizing heart smashed, mighty torsos that bended time crumpled, mournful eyes finally closed. Most tragic of all, was the mind, a center wherein frenzied Logic and composed Creativity feuded over control, now found itself in an unprecedented state of stillness.

"There just had to be two of them, eh bro?" an irritated, but tired voice asked from within the floating crainum.

Well, perhaps what was most tragic was that all of the Squadron was still alive.

His head briefly regarded the approaching behemoth, all eldritch horror grotesquely assimilated with cthulu drill aesthetics. A menace from the distant past now charging blindly to its own doom, just because its future successor looked at him funny, to be fair, the motivation was mutual in both camps.

"I think we could've stayed our ground if there was only one." He paused. "Hidari, you dead or something? Cause if you are, I'm ejecting your rotting pleat covered ass out of this piece of shi-!"

"I'm thinking Tadashii." Hidari replied. The bespectacled boy wiped a few flakes of crusted blood from his sketchpad. "Funny, this is the first time we're having a civil exchange?"

"Yeah," Tadashii sighed, adjusting his flowery shirt, which was like most of his attire, wild too look at, but oddly meticulous in its assembly. "You know, if we're alive, it stands to reason that the others are too." He motioned to the screen in front of him, showing the disparate remains of their squadron.

Hidari didn't answer, he had somehow found a pencil in between the seat and was drawing something in his notebook, getting his elbows in his "brother's" sides.

"Watch it!"

"Don't yell at me, your junk is taking up most of the space here…"

"That junk is for coordinating attacks and…whatever." The spirit of logic smashed his hand on a nearby keyboard, loose buttons drifting off . "Yo, Jaxi, you alive, I haven't heard you panic in ten minutes."

A chuckle filled the intercom. "Because after worrying about it for so long…it finally happened." Jaxi's voice was calm, almost tinged with tranquility bordering on Shivi's, and that scared the hell of Tadashii. Jaxi's speech was usually peppered with shrieks and panicked sobs. "There's nothing else to do now but, take it like a man."

"I liked you better when you were screaming that we were all doomed."

"To be fair, he was right." Hidari muttered, still engrossed by whatever his stunted imagination allowed him to doodle.

Tadashii looked at his plainly dressed brother, frowning at all the little customization of his clothing, the tribal designs on his loafers, the bright patches on his shoulders, and the colorful pins running down his pants. "I can't believe I'm going to die, fail…die a failure sitting next to a weirdo like this!!!"

"Feelings mutual…" the boy finally set his pencil down…before drawing on the shared display screen with a piece of chalk. "The fact that we look alike makes it even more unbearable."

"Where the hell do you keep those things?" Tadashii cried. "Why can't you bring anything useful in those damn pockets of yours like food or water?"

"We don't need to eat." Hidari gently began dotting the screen.

"Back when we were invulnerable, no. But now we don't have that luxury anymore and…what are you drawing?"

Hidari's chalk lines began to run across the screen, smoothly running through all the broken pieces that were floating about the cornerstone. The line connected fearful Jaxi to serene Shivi, furious Aros with affectionate Cruso, mourning Tyre to compassionate Muchi. The pieces began to gravitate towards them, pulled by the will of the chained artist.

"Using Spiral Energy at this stage? What, are we going to have a group hug or some-?" then he noticed one last line, curving upwards before gently encircling a small constellation. "Wait, that's impossible, all the stars are gone, broken, dead…"

"Those aren't stars" Hidari smiled.

Tadashii pushed his brother aside, double clicking the approaching cluster with his mouse. He began to see brief outlines, fleeting shapes. And then, despite the distance, and his own disbelief at the situation, he felt a vague sense of longing at these familiar objects that radiated like supernovas in a darkroom, wiping all negatives clean.

"S-Senpai?"

-X-

It was hard to describe what surrounded Simon, but it could aptly be called excess. Gaudy slot machines with loud ornate levers decorated with the kanji "Win!", bass amplifiers the size of buildings, video screens that seemed larger than the room (was he in a room?) stretched either side of him jutted out of the walls, with several expensive-looking cars, motorcycles, planes and boats crashed through them. The floor was scattered with hundreds of pearls still moist from the depths, marked with colossi sized vinyl action figures, like the playpen of some irresponsible child. Somewhere above him a planet sized disco ball cast psychedelic shadows on countless pinups of beautiful women on what could pass for a roof in this place.

"-AnD th3N be-4 h!M mANIFE5ted A MaGNificenT ThRONe, WorTHY oF iTS alMI6TY 0ccUPPANt!"

"Pretty cool huh?" the 'almighty occupant' chided.

Simon didn't know what he was referring too, the cosmocide, the disintegration of time, the deaths of everything, the endless army of mad soldiers spun forth from his sadistic whims, or his pimped out pad. In any case, the remark left the aging driller seething.

Simon wheezed in spite of himself. "Don't, why do you look like that?"

"What? you don't like the trendy black cape with the blazing symbol of our common brigade-."

"You're not, you'll neve ber-." Simon tried to protest, before wincing in pain.

"This magnificent blade that carved out of a legend-?"

"That's not yours, its aniki-."

The man didn't seem to hear him. "Is it the hair? I thought the purple would make us more distinguished from one another but still get the message that we're of the same mold across. See the style's practically the same, spiky and filled with macho gel!"

"We never used-." He was starting to lose the ability to argue, or perhaps merely the will…

"The shades maybe?" He pointed at the blood red X-shaped spectacles on his familiar face, the plastic covering both his eyes and a great deal of his cheeks. "Just trying to keep up with the legacy man."

"WHAT LEGACY?" Simon roared, pouring all his energy into a tirade of his own. "WHAT LEGACY IS MAKING YOU DO THIS?"

The man grinned, then pointed up. "Go Beyond the Impossible, And Kick Reason to the Curb." Simon paled at this snide delivery of his brother's mantra. "The Gurren Lagann way!"

"Ripping time to pieces, breaking stars, erasing everything in your path…that's not the Gurren Lagann way…" the hero tried to make it sound convincing, but it came out as more of a question in its hushed delivery.

At this, the man who would cause the Spiral Nemesis leaned on his throne's arms, casually looking up at the lewd-poster of a woman that to Simon's discomfort greatly resembled Yoko, sans bikini…with donkey. "You can call me Tako, by the way." He said to no one in particular. "And yeah, it stands to reason that what I'm doing is. I mean going 'beyond the impossible' is well and easy when you're working your way up from drilling holes in the ground."

He looked at Simon, perhaps hoping to get a rise out of him, but Tako had battered his progenitor a little too well, the man just looked tired.

"But topping yourself over and over gets harder as you go along." He stretched out his diamond-ringed hands to the ceiling, giving a slight yawn. "Take my kind for instance, myself in particular. We climbed the highest mountains, explored the depths of the oceans, cured every disease known to living creatures, we even set up our own galactic peace keeping agency and fought grizzly-riding penguins armed with chainsaws and nunchucks." The madman looked at his fingernails and smiled slightly at those carnage-filled times. "Until the only thing left for me to try when I came along." He made a grand sweeping motion, as if he was going to reveal some great secret. "Was this."

Simon said nothing. There wasn't much to say but "oh", and he would not give Tako the satisfaction. Only after he found something to say that wouldn't confirm a single thing Tako said, did he speak. "Why are you doing this?"

He knew the answer, but he still couldn't help but be surprised at Tako's answer. "Because he looked me funny…From trillions of years away he sneered at me from his primordial palace." His face creased into an annoyed frown. "And it wasn't like I was going to wait for him to catch up to me so I decided to bring the fight to him."

Yes, and kill everything that lived or ever will live. Simon thought bitterly. "Why…"

"You're not going to ask why I don't feel bad about killing all your friends? I mean-would you feel bad if you killed all the germs on your body when you take a vitam-."

"-Am I here?" Simon finished.

"Oh, well to bear witness I suppose and…" Tako scratched his brow absentmindedly. "Something else, uh…oh yes."

"-hE SNAP3d h1S FINGERs aND fr0M NoWHERe a SecOND throne E-MERGEd!"

For a while, the throne was simply looked at by the two men, with Tako fidgeting slightly and Simon trying to take it in.

"No…" For a while that is.

"I know it's not as big as mine, but you gotta work your way up man."

"I said no…"

The slight drumming of Tako's fingers on his armrest could be heard. "You're not even going to ask why, huh? Why I, a being with absolute control over Spiral Energy and thus can manifest anything he wants out of nothing, ask you to join him in slaying his enemy?"

Simon tried to keep his mouth shut, despite wanting to know why.

He didn't need to as Tako took his silence for an answer.

"Because I can't make you old man."

It was so simple, so succinct, and that was what took Simon aback.

Tako jumped out of his throne and threw an arm around Simon's singed shoulder. "It's utterly fantastic! I can kill you, turn you into a goddamn pig-mole, hell I could have you put on a dress. But for all the Spiral Energy that I haven't used up, I can't change your mind!" He turned the shocked Simon to face him. "I know the décor may be wanting and my methods are a tad…reckless, but I'm not stupid Simon." His grip on the latter's shoulders tightened. "I know that I'm going to get myself killed if I try to smash into the old codger, we're of equivalent strength after all. So I figure a little extra on my side can make my chances of survival, aheh, higher." He eased his grip slightly. "So, name your price."

"I-I said no!"

"Oh come now." He released his grip on the driller's shoulders. "What do you want? Anything you desire, I can give, I mean pay, what am I some kind philanthropist?" Laughter, loud and boisterous, as if from some invisible audience, greeted his joke and startled his guest. "How about some Pig-Mole Steaks?"

"-And th3 r00M waZ FULL oV tHO5E mORzELs h-E had COVETEdd DuRING hiZ 6oyHOOD!"

Stacks of hot, delicious beef filled the room cooked exactly as Simon would've wanted them. The smell elicited so many peaceful memories from below, almost buried by the excitement of his adventures above: his first morsel given to him by his father so he could have a taste of "a driller's life", his first food fight, his first attempt at getting…Kamina to have some, since the latter had foresworn digging. Then he thought of Boota, and he wasn't so hungry anymore.

"Oh yes, I forgot." Tako gave himself a mock smack to the face, something Simon wished to do to him, but a little harder. "You weren't in it for the food." The meat, the smell and the memories vanished. "What encouraged you to dig so deep into the dark, before finding Lagann?"

"-goLD. DiAMOnds, alL that gLiTeRed iN his OLDE DreamS were there…"

…just as he had imagined it to be. All the treasure he had thought lay buried in the stone towered over him in the infinite piles he had envisioned. As his brother had hyped the infinite possibilities of the world's sky, he often lauded the riches of its depths. In fact, a gold coin he found triggered a frenzied gold rush, and while no other gold was found, greatly expanded Jiha village. It was probably in one of those diamond dunes. There was even the fancy necklace he had envisioned giving a girl he liked…come to think of it, it would probably look better on-. No, she was gone, and none of this mattered.

"Jeez, what more do you want?" Tako stroked his chin, a tad frustrated that this was taking so long. They would arrive at that damn cornerstone at any minute and then, he might, no, he would not fade! He turned his back to the temptee, trying to think of something else he held of value. Drugs? Nah. Booze? He wasn't a fan most likely. "I suppose we could bring that Nia girl back. Maybe with some 'enhancements', from what I read her bustline was severely wanting."

In spite of his unstable nature, Tamagashi was still the living personification of logic. And thus he would see in this situation that there were scant lucrative actions to be taken at this juncture. Sulking was par for the course, Begging was reasonable, surrender more so, accepting the offer, hell yeah. But one action he would never ever recommend or consider was knocking Tako down. Hard. Which was exactly what Simon did.

"I SAID NO!" Simon yelled, all the rage he had thought smothered by his sorrow tore through his voice and surged over the downed destroyer in the form of wailing fists. "YOU THINK I CAN BE BOUGHT? YOU THINK YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT? YOU AREN'T GOING TO USE HER AS SOMETHING TO SELL!" His hands hurt, he was stupid to think this would hurt such a demon, but this was something he needed to do. "YOU'RE A FAKE! YOU COULD NEVER BE-!"

"-hEart aTTaK…"

It was like someone had shoved his hand through his chest and was crushing his heart between his fingers.

Still lying on the floor, Tako gave Simon a slight shove, causing him to tumble onto the floor, he had been too shocked to collapse on his own.

Wordlessly, the caped scoundrel picked himself up. "So sad…" he briefly adjusted his spectacles as he regarded the gasping mass before him. "You didn't even manage to crack my shades." Tako gave his temples a slight rub before his next remark. "I've got a good idea. Since you don't like this form I'll make you a new deal." The X-molded shades glinted dangerously in the sickening multicolored light the room was filled with. "I'll show you my face, and you'll show me yours." With a deft flick, the shades were off, and Simon gazed into the abyss that was this man, this fiend, this Nemesis.

It was incomprehensible, it didn't make any sense in the slightest. He was like him but, different, unique, but the same. Like staring into the abyss only to see a shallow pool in the bottom, a faroff reflection, sequestered in the infinite blackness, perhaps there, perhaps not at all. The cape, the sword, the room, the hair, all of these fluttered away to reveal…something, an irregularity in the rhythms of the void. Big, small, long, short, fat, thin, wide, narrow, here, nowhere. A spark containing everything, illuminating a pitch black storage room overstocked with nothing.

The strain of trying to understand, even contemplate, what lay before him blew Simon away. Energy from this divine inconsistency assailed him. He screamed as he felt himself being peeled layer by layer. It started with flesh, then the red, then the bone, and then it went deeper than that. Somehow, though he couldn't be sure, years of his life were being tossed away in this chaotic torrent. When the glasses were replaced on Tako's face, and his pastiche of a façade was restored, Simon felt light, as if something of great weight had been removed, but he also felt oddly exposed.

"And you called me a poser." Tako hissed. "Just look at yourself."

"-mirRor…"

And Simon saw Simon, for the first time in many years. He blinked, not truly believing what he was seeing. He felt like crying, cursing, after all this time, after all the battles, losses and victories, nothing had changed. Instead he laughed bitterly, at seeing that the great "Simon the Driller", stripped down to his essentials, was still a young boy with holes in his shoes and goggles on his head.

Tako laughed as well. "After all old man when you get right down to it, you're still just a kid." The laughter didn't last long, as his sudden lifting and choking of the poor boy attested. "Which begs the question of why I should listen to a brat like you!" He brought the young driller face level, tightening his grip. "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? ALWAYS MOVE FORWARD, SMASH THE HEAVENS, BULLDOZE ALL IN MY WAY. A WALL, BAH, BREAK THROUGH! LESSONS YOU'VE APPARENTLY FORGOTTEN! I GET WHAT I WANT! AND IF I WANT YOUR AID-." Simon could feel the darkness strangling his consciousness filling it with violent crayola drawings, magazine two pagers of demolished buildings and bloodstained murals depicting horrific acts. "-YOU'LL GIVE IT TO ME!"

Simon expected two things to occur, his death or his surrender. What happened next however was completely unexpected.

"My GOD, Vandal, you are pathetic!" a snide voice coughed.

"Not a pretty picture I'd say…" a more quiet one huffed.

"Whuh…" Tako's grip on Simon loosened, though not much, as the man turned to face these new intruders. "Oh, its you, having trouble dying?"

Simon's eyes managed to pry themselves out of their cringed fixture to see two very familiar and utterly unwelcome beings standing barely a yard away. "Tadashii, Hidari?"

Tadashii made a small show of dusting his floral patterned labcoat, "Yo, Killer, I see you've met your successor!"

"And you've lost some weight." Hidari observed, painfully trying to twirl a pen between his fingers before the stylus clattered to the ground. "You look years younger, but I suppose that'll have to do…"

As if wishing to express his discontent at not immediately being part of the conversation, Tako roughly threw Simon behind him and leered at the two. "You guys, how are you still alive?"

"It's a gift." The two said in sarcastic unison.

"This doesn't make any sense." The large, broken television cast an eerie image of the Cornerstone, with the broken pieces of the Anti-Spiral elite orbiting it. "See, I broke the bonds between parallel dimensions, hell I even destroyed some of those dimensions! The bonds that buffered your injuries and sustained you and your machines! How can you still be alive?" Though Tako was far from omnipotent, he certainly knew how to kill things, and this didn't mesh to well with what he knew.

"Ah yes," Hidari admitted. "Goodbye Medieval Me, Pachinko Me, Ninja Me, Nazi Me, Conquistador Me, Gladiator Me, MC Escher, Spider-Me, you were my favorite…" He gave a casual wave with each remembrance.

"Ignore him." Tadashii commanded. "Anyway, why the A.S.S here is simple, we've come to KICK YOUR ASS!"

"That isn't what I asked…"

The implacable Anti-Spiral didn't seem to hear him as he thrust his gloved hands into the air with a look of manic anticipation on his face. "And we'll do it-!" Then the passion in his face drained and his arms lowered as he pointed to the coughing heap behind Tako. "-with that guy, I guess."

"The geezer? As…disappointing as he is in real life, I don't see him working together with the freaks that tried to kill him."

A gentle, unseen tone responded from the dark. "To be fair…" Tako whirled to see where the voice had come from to see Hidari extending a hand to the downed Simon. "You kind of owe us, after all, you did kill our leader."

The boy was taken aback at how devoid of malice Hidari's retort was, there was only a hint of reluctance at its delivery, as if to compensate for his inability to express sorrow. "What makes you think we can win? We're all alone on this one." No Yoko, no Ron, No Rossio, No Viral, No one was around anymore, or ever would be, he thought sadly.

The edges of Hidari's mouth curved up slightly. "Look at the screen Simon."

Simon turned his head to look at the image of his former foes castrate and helpless, trying to keep some sick sense of satisfaction from surfacing. There they were, the fragments, the wrecks, the Cornerstone, the primeval massive drill heading toward it and…there was something wrong, in that, something was there, other than those set pieces. Somethings he thought long since gone.

"That can't be!" Tako sputtered in disbelief as he saw the approaching spots on the screen. "I crushed them all, sucked them dry!"

"That's cause they aren't anything as flimsy as suns dumbass!" Tadashii shouted.

Hidari smiled as Simon lay there, filled with awe, confusion, but most importantly…hope. "You see young driller." He pointed to the monitor, where a cluster of luminescent objects hovered over the beaten Gunmen. "All the stars in the sky are our allies…"

Smiling as well, the young lad took the sprite's hand and lifted himself up. "Thank You." Simon said.

"Huh? No you don't!" Tako reached to remove his glasses only to be knocked down by a truck-sized projectile textbook. "Hrrr…" he said, his words muffled from the bottom of the tome.

"Let's get out of here you two, Senpai's waiting…" Tadashii's boisterous demeanor became almost subdued as he spoke those last words.

As Simon and Hidari joined Tadashii, the omnicidal maniac managed to free himself from the omnibus. "So you're siding with them huh, fine." He said as he sauntered back to his throne. "You're just some old fart anyway." Tako resumed his seat on the grand chair, idly picking his nose. "You won't make a difference even if you team up with your enemies you lack the fire within your soul." He flicked a small booger at them, it didn't quite reach. "Kamina would be so ashamed."

Simon was about to protest when Tadashii put a hand to his mouth. "Hey Thief." He said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Do you want to know why you couldn't comprehend that psycho over there? Why you were shattered at seeing his true form?" he looked at the seated Spiral Master before continuing. "It's because while you can imagine a universe filled with life, devoid of life you can't comprehend what he represents. He is in every way, an antithesis to what our leader is…was. You follow?" Tako's posture had changed somewhat, it was less bent, straighter, almost defensive. "He isn't a summation of anything, he isn't a collection of some race or idea. He is everything because…" a small glow gently encircled the three and all knew their time there was limited. "…he's the last person in the universe and therefore every king, peasant and adjective therein. And its hard to imagine someone that completely alone."

And they were gone, leaving Tako to his vice filled wonderland.

"Assholes."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Here we are…"

"Thanks, wait, what're we supposed to-."

"Just shut up and sit down!"

And with that they were gone. They had left them there, back where he had started. As if nothing had changed…discounting the fact he couldn't reach the controls anymore…

Simon gazed outside the cockpit. "Even though I'm not helping him do it, I still feel responsible for everything that's happened." There was nothing around him but Nemesis now, the Shredd was so unbelievably large that it encapsulated everything in his vision. Endless drills spinning at random intervals across a pitch black body streaked with painted magenta flames. The insignia of a blazing skull wearing X-shaped shades seemed to be laughing at him from the thing's side.

This was the future. Simon thought grimly. A future he had helped to create.

The Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann Solo shuddered and groaned as it was slowly being pulled in the wake of something larger than itself.

Alone again, his thoughts quickly spiraled back to their original melancholic state. "I tried to do good, but I guess Tadashii was right."

He thought back to that traumatic fight where the mad embodiment of logic had attempted to invade his mind, showing him a mental image of endless rows of containers, each having contained a clone of the Anti-Spiral Messenger before they had all perished along with their master. "Don't you see?" he could still hear him say. "You didn't just kill her once." He then produced a stick from his pocket and started running across the room, ticking off containers as he did so. "You killed her hundreds of thousands of times!!! They're all dead thanks to you!"

"I'm just a thief, a vandal, a-a Killer." He raised his old spiral Key as if he were still traveling with Kamina and Yoko, looking up into the sky from his sleeping bag. "All because I found you." He gently inserted it into the plug in front of him, nothing, not a beep was produced. "I can't even get it to start anymore. I'm all burnt out, there's nothing left." He hugged his knees to himself and shuddered slightly. "Tako, was right too. Aniki would be ashamed of me…"

"HE THOUGHT I'D BE WHAT? BASTARD! WHO THE HELL DOES HE THINK I AM?"

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"Say Hidari, Tadashii…" the speaker sounded testy, almost as if she would be ready to blow at any moment. "You guys think this'll work?"

"Aros, space and time are twisiting, convulsing in ways none of us could ever imagine." No one would ever know if it was Hidari or Tadashii who answered. "At this point, more than any time that has or will come to pass. Anything is possible."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For what he hoped would be the last time in his life, Simon was startled senseless. Replacing the display of the Shredd on his screen was an angry metallic face with stainless steel fangs, pointy black shades and a red hot paintjob.

"Ka-Ka-Ka-?"

"What was that Simon, I can't hear you. Your radio must be broken." Simon tensed as the Gurren pulled its fist back. "If you've got something to say, come out of there!"

"Wait, Aniki!"

But the fist had already been swung, smashing through the Tengen Toppa's cockpit.

Simon winced, bracing for the vacuum of space, but it wasn't there. Apparently, Physics had been killed as well.

The hand grabbed Simon and a great deal of the Gunmen's controls, pulling them out of the dark.

Simon stared at what appeared to be the Gurren, back from the dead and apparently detached from the Tengen Toppa's frame. He gulped, that voice, the pilot, could he be.

"Simon, it's been a long time!" a voice boomed from the Gurren's mouth. It then proceeded to bring Simon in for a crushing barehug.

"Aniki wait!" Simon managed to stutter, seconds before he could be crushed against the mecha's robotic body.

"Oh, I see, how rude of me!" The red robot instead cupped Simon in its hands. "It's better if I do it face to face right?"

The machine's massive jaw had scarcely opened when a flash of blue leapt out of it, squeezing Simon in an all too corporeal embrace. "Better huh?"

Simon coughed. "A, hack, little…"

"Hehe, good, now I've gotta tell you something…hey, did you lose weight?"

Simon managed to free himself from his brother's grip and looked up to face him. He looked like, like he remembered. Dark blue hair, cyan tattoes across his arms, muscles tanned despite years of having lived underground…and to Simon's distaste, height that exceeded his own.

"You aren't using any of Leeron's anti-age cream are you?" Kamina calmly asked before violently shaking Simon's shoulders. "REAL MEN DON'T NEED TO HIDE BEHIND POWDER OR BLUSH!"

"N-no, it was Tako!"

"Your fitness instructor?"

"No, the guy who said you'd be ashamed of me!"

"That bastard! Where is he?"

Simon pointed behind Kamina. The latter then turned to see the Shredd, already light years away.

The taller boy whistled. "Damn, he's pretty far away! Couldn't you have made enemies who live a little closer? It'll take all day to reach him."

Simon thought about what to say next. "How are you here?'

Kamina whipped out his trademark shades and put them across his nose. "Simon, don't you know?" He pointed up, as if there was still a sky to point to. "Space and time are shredding to pieces! All of existence is going soft and malleable…" He smiled and looked to the side. "Kind of like Yoko's…"

"Aniki!" Simon blushed.

"What?" He pointed his finger at Simon's flushed face. "You were thinking it too!" He gave a cough, as if to indicate his returning to his speech. "And so in this moment of utter hopelessness and certain doom…" He brought his hand back up. "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!"

"You say that like it's a good thing…" Simon sweatdropped.

"And it isn't! Though I have to admire the passion that burns within those two, and I really like their drills, they're kind of reckless, don't you think?"

His partner grimaced as the biblical devastation that surrounded them. "I-I guess."

"That's right! So come on, they have to be stopped no matter what!" Kamina grinned at his little brother, waiting for him to respond with a 'Hell Yeah!' or a 'Let's go!'

"Impossible…"

He wasn't expecting that though.

"Eh? Simon, don't you remember?" He asked as he reached down to ruffle his brother's hair. "A Man's fighting Spirit-!"

"-Is why everyone is dead!" Simon shouted, batting Kamina's hand away.

"Simon…" Kamina voice had suddenly become angry. "What's your problem, you want me to punch some sense into you?"

"Look around you Kamina! Look around! What do you see?"

Kamina squinted into the void. "Nothing…"

"Exactly, nothing! Everything's gone and ruined and its all because of that damn 'Fighting Spirit'!" Simon sobbed. "It's because of me…"

"How can you say that? Think of all you've done thanks to your relentless drive to move forward! You pierced the ceiling of Jiha village, beat up mountains of Beastmen, met all kinds of fired up people, captured the Dai-Gurren-!"

"Got you killed…" Simon almost smiled to himself when his comment rendered his boisterous brother silent. "Don't get me wrong bro, doing the impossible, surpassing our limits, all of that was great at the start…" he remembered Tako retelling his origins, the horror of their contents, and the sense within them. "But one day, it'll all get out of hand. Someone will come along and will be so obsessed with surpassing us that he'll…do this." He toyed with his drill key absentmindedly. "No matter who gets hurt, what gets broken, nothing will matter because his fighting spirit will justify everything." He sniffed. "Because we showed them how. And if we did help cause all this…then maybe we deserve Spiral Nemesis."

Kamina didn't say anything. Maybe there wasn't anything to say. He had to admit, Simon was…right. And that didn't sit well with him at all. Wordlessly he lay his hands on Simon's small shoulders, flashed a sad smile, and gave him the biggest headbutt in the history of head-on collisions.

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"You know what depresses me the most about what's going to happen Muchi?"

Sorrow's champion could've been depressed about a whole matter of things, the gigantic drills that were nearly upon their little band, the severing of their multiverse bonds, or even the color of his cockpit walls. "Yes Tyre?" As always, Muchi was always willing to listen.

Tyre's tear-streaked face looked out at the glowing objects that were approaching his group. How long had he looked at them, while they still resembled stars to the naked eye, with longing in his heart, with regret flooding his mind? Now, as the hour of their reunion approached he was almost reluctant to enact it. "We've spent our entire lives as fragments, puzzle pieces, and we've adapted and thrived accordingly. When we're finally complete though, what will happen to us, to our experiences, our personalities, our minds?"

"You sound too much like Jaxi…"

"Oh, then I guess it's working already huh." Cruso chuckled. "Lovely."

"There no real reason to worry everyone." Shivi's calm voice assured over the radio. "If the core of someone is broken, then it is in pieces. The core is the pieces and the pieces are the core. When you put the core back together the pieces don't disappear, they're still there, they just make something bigger." She paused, looking up at the luminescence that now lay just a little above them, totally ignoring the omnicidal psychos that were about to smash the Cornerstone into bits. "All that's needed is a little glue."

-X-

Nemesis

By Zusi

Pettiness and Spite,

Power the twin Behemoths,

Of Past and Future.

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Jaxi

By Zusi

Craven but prudent,

The Winged Feet of Mercury,

Take Flight from his foes.

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Cruso

By Zusi

Lover of all things,

A heart that attracts, repels,

Beats within his chest.

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Aros

By Zusi

Hail Vengance and Wrath!

Hands in the visage of bulls,

Smash all in her way.

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Mushi

By Zusi

Kind but not helpless,

Shields and entraps her charges,

Like a spider's web.

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Tyre

By Zusi

Tears run down his face,

Rain and fog smother and brood,

Across the blank sky.

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Shivi

By Zusi

Always calm, tranquil,

Stilling time for reflection,

Nothing bothers her.

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Hidari and Tadashii

Opposites, mutants,

Mad Logic, Binded Dreams, feud

The mind their mansion.

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In that moment, all did seem lost. Excuse the tired cliché… Apart from the debris that orbited the Keystone of the Cosmos, it lay open and bare.

This anchor for dimensions, this center of existence, this point where all energy spun forth, was to be treated as but an obstacle in the way of a madman's drive. Ceiling, that's all they both saw it as, an obstacle that prevented them from ascension. Could they see it not as a ceiling that obstructs, but as a roof that keeps the rain out, something to shield rather than hinder?

In another life, perhaps…

As it was, those terrible drills, helixes of steel and will, turning aimlessly with little purpose or conviction, were spinning with all the energy their masters could muster toward what would assuredly be their final task. Despite myself, I could almost feel the Spiral Nemesis manifest, that terrible moment that all of feared, that all of us tried to prevent. Amazing what horrors the imagination allows one to entertain…

The collective of what could pass off as stars to the uninformed began to swirl as well, but at a tempo more relaxed, more precise, and more purposeful than those the drills produced, completely unaffected by their pull. That made sense; it was after all designed to do just that.

And so the drills began to dig through the outer aura of the Keystone. Thought made in different eras, they shared many similarities, the bladed swirls, the imposing bulk, and chief among them, the crooked, nearly blunt tips that even now ate away at the heart of space….

-X-

Reminded me briefly of Paul Bunyan chopping down Yggdrasil with a grin on his face and Armageddon on the mind. Fourth World sliding into the fifth before collapsing down 'splat' into the pavement of oblivion. Horsemen were two less than calculated but were picking up the slack, digging holes into all spiritual things, personal things, every things. Apocalypse not now, impending though, threatening to go Pompeii, erupt, perfect release. Somewhere inside the chauffeurs of death are laughing in the drills. Tentacles versus Heavy Metal, epic clash that should be avoided, parking ticket style. Alas, Alack, Adios, Rapturing Aint' the soul of no man, cept these two. Grudge slipping through, can't consummate, all bitterness is unrequited after all. Soon, blank, doom, all nothing but null, void. Ridiculously acronymed group wince in headlights of nothingness. A.S.S kicked. Right and ready for the cru…for the cru…for…for?

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The bedlam the sundering had wrought found itself quelled by a torrent of shooting stars. If only they had a roof over their heads, eh?

You poor ghosts, what has become of you? We're running out of adjectives to describe how ruined everything is without sounding repetitive. But I can't help but want to see you as you all once were, proud, strong, alive, and to see you as this, it makes my heart almost as broken as you are.

Well, back to the story I suppose. Blazing bolts of untold power wrapped themselves around the Squadron, not completely mind you: only the essentials, only that which defined them, their essences if you will.

They however constituted something much greater than any of them could fathom. I guess that's why we always got along, they all saw themselves in me, cracks in a mirror only hold a piece of the reflection after all.

Like nuts and bolts, wires and nails, chewing gum and duct tape, these heavenly objects, in reality pieces of one of their own, bound them, filling in the gaps, making the connections necessary to bring these disparate fragments together.

The fact that they were defending it, made the Keystone almost obligated to share its power in this affair.

Seeing the massive Shredd and Ralex kept at bay by this…metamorphosis, I can't help but smile. We had always detested 'Gatai', all our enemies seemed to have an affinity for it, and now, at the end, it was we, calling upon vast quantities of Spiral Energy to unite against a common threat.

After I departed, they always thought of themselves as Seven, when there was really only One.

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For a moment it just stood there, despite the world enders on either side of it, it just stood regarded itself, first at its hands, beefy silver affairs with fingers that looked like curved horns of some mighty beast. The arms and legs were long and vast, but somehow unintimidating, it felt a vague need to embrace someone. Its feet had wings attached to the heels with sleek turbines gently flowing out of the feather's edges, there was also a number of boosters all about it. It looked down then, noting its impressive torso, strong yet relaxed in its posture. It frowned as it saw those sorrowful orbs on its chest that looked as if they would cry at any moment, and a smile at the slight beating of a heart full of potential within him. It could not see its own face, but knew that the W edged faceplate, ominous rectangular sockets remained from its previous incarnation in addition to the plume of cobalt fire its body was now emanating.

The Shredd and Ralex began to push forward again lusting for screams and groans, but all that came out of its mouth was laughter. "Heh…heh, hoh, hehehe, ha." The new being lifted its arms, one at the Shredd, the other at the Ralax. "Haaaaaa!!!!!!" it screamed, as a barrier of hot white energy formed around him, stopping the drills from moving further.

The monstrosities found themselves unable to press forward, unable to crush this smug new obstacle that was interrupting their fight.

"Listen up you Spiral Maniacs! The days of doing anything you want are now over! You thought you broke me, you thought you beat me, but I put myself back together and now you're all screwed!" It paused, the eyes on its chest curving upwards in delight. "I am the heel that grinds into the face of anyone who even thinks of blowing up the sky, the daunting hand that chokes the life out of all insurgence and spanks the asses of all you Spiral Mooks!" It was a shame he needed both his hands to keep them at a standstill, it felt like pointing up. "The ultimate creation of the Anti-Spirals, their final legacy, greatest weapon and mightiest soldier!" It paused, perhaps expecting an inquiry of who it thought it was, none came though. "I am Neo Zamboa!!!!!! WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM?" Zamboa's mind cringed as those last words left, it had emulated the battle cry of the enemy, but if felt right somehow, almost pleasurable.

"And now that I have the power to keep you two jerks stuck like this indefinitely, I'm gonna…I'm gonna…" And then the newborn Zamboa, gifted with all the knowledge and skills of his components, suddenly realized, he hadn't thought this far ahead.

"OH CRAP! WHAT THE HELL DO I DO NOW?"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Kamina, are you okay?" Simon asked his downed brother, who was busy clutching his head in pain.

Kamina groaned. "Damnit, I forgot how hard your head was! My attempt to get you fired up failed!"

"S-sorry…"

Kamina got off his back and into a sitting position, still rubbing where his head had made contact with Simon's. "You shouldn't apologize for that you know? It was my fault too."

"Well, I guess."

"Rushing in there without thinking, I was practically asking for it." Kamina slid toward the edge of Gurren's hand, letting his legs swing in the great nothingness. "I should've just let you do your thing; you would've figured it out." His younger brother started to look at him uneasily, it was becoming clear that they weren't talking about the great big welt on Kamina's forehead anymore. Kamina simply continued. "I let my guard down, that was my mistake too. So I deserved what I got. Nothing you could've done to stop it, right?"

"That's not true." A small sound of someone fidgeting could be heard behind the tattooed man. "I could've snapped out of it faster, I could've done it without waiting for someone to help me…I-I could've…"

"Yeah?"

"…taken action."

"Then how's this any different than back then, huh?" Kamina sneered. "Why do you feel like you can't do anything?"

All Simon could do was look at his hands, so small now, so weak, so useless.

Kamina turned his head to look at the driller. "Simon! Answer me!"

"Because…it's because I'm so small and I'm all alone. At least with the Tengen Toppa and the others we had a chance, but now, it's just me." He gave his brother his most pleading, helpless look. "What could I possibly do by myself?"

In response, Kamina moved to squat in front of Simon, his face radiating with assurance. "Oh you won't be doing by yourself."

"R-really."

"Of course, that would be absurd!" He gestured to where Simon was sitting. "You'll have Lagann with you!"

"WHAT?" Simon looked down, he was indeed sitting in his original Gunman, the first one to have a human pilot it in centuries.

"Just like old times!" Kamina smiled, giving Simon a thumbs up.

"You mean you're not going to-Where did this come from?"

"I took it out of the broken big guy!"

Simon shook his head; the end of the world was a strange time. "Still, it was too much to expect us to do that thing again, right?"

"I'm barely here as it is bro. My 'GATAI' days are long gone."

Though he had always looked a bit scruffy Kamina was particularly disheveled, his skin was paler than it had been last Simon saw of him, his eyes though not totally devoid of their luster reflected a hidden fatigue, even his clothes were tattered now that Simon looked. It finally hit him that for the last hour, he had been talking with a dead man.

"It fits…"

"Hm?"

"This, this fight. It's fitting that I have to do it alone. It's all my fault that this happened anyway." Simon tried twisting the drill key to ignite whatever Spiral Energy he could muster. "I don't know what a little guy like this can do." A flash, then nothing came out of the console. "But it's my mess. I have to clean it up."

Simon expected to be rebuked by his brother, shouts, yelling, actions of that sort. What he didn't expect, was the laughter.

"What's so funny?" Simon demanded, sounding a bit more cross than he intended.

"Hahaha!!! And I thought you were a driller!" Kamina howled, banging on the robotic arm he was now cackling on. "When you don't know anything about the things!" he wiped the tears from his tired eyes. "I'm sorry, I gotta laugh this out, I'll be in the Gurre-hahaha-try, try to get Lagann started alright?" he got up, barely and started for the Gunman's cockpit.

"Sure…" The laughter was a bit unsettling, but not unwelcome. A little laughter was nice, and his brother would get over it soon.

The laughs didn't stop when Kamina entered the robot though. Its great grinning maw began chuckling as well, shaking the very hand Simon was perched on.

This lasted for several minutes before Gurren's mouth abruptly shut. Simon scrambled, trying not to fall out of Lagann at this sudden stillness.

"I'll try to make this quick since we don't have much time." Simon was slightly perplexed at this new serious tone his brother's voice had assumed, devoid of anger and bravado, but intense all the same. "Do you know what makes a strong drill?"

Not wanting to give a wrong answer, Simon stole a chance at his drill key, what made a great drill? "The metal, the engine, the torque…the chuck, the-the man?" The last one seemed like a safe answer.

"The tip Simon!" the fire returned to the Gurren Brigade leader's voice. "It all comes down to a point! The point is what makes or breaks a drill! Whether it's as small as key or as large as a galaxy, a drill needs a strong tip to be of any use! You listening? The focus, where all the energy is concentrated! It provides direction and purpose to what would otherwise be a big dorky cone!" This particular phrase stuck out the most to Simon. "A blunt drill cannot even penetrate mud, much less pierce the heavens. Without a sharp point, no matter how powerful this so-called drill is, all that will result…" Gurren's other hand gestured toward the Keystone, trillions of light years away it was still easy to make out the carnage that was taking place there. "…is a mess. These so-called masters have lost their focus, their aims. Their drills might be big, but their edges are dull. They go in all directions, never here or there because they have no idea where to go!"

New tears were welling up in Simon's eyes, but originated opposite from the sorrow that had festered within him these last few years. "So…"

"So it might be the smallest part of the drill, but it is undoubtedly the most important. That's why I know you can do it, because the lackluster ambitions of those bastards can never hope to match our fighting spirit!"

Simon wiped the happy tears from his face, that was his brother for you, ever the charismatic blowhard who could whip peasants into warriors with a few loud words. "That wasn't very short…" he chuckled.

Gurren rubbed the back of its head. "Sorry, I get carried away sometimes."

"Try all the time." He couldn't help but say.

"Hey!" Gurren's steel hand pointed at Simon accusingly. "Speak for yourself! Mr. Stupid Shades!"

"My shades weren't stupid!"

"Yeah, just silly right?"

"Yours are a hard act to follow…"

"So," Kamina growled. "Ready to save the universe?"

Before Simon had a chance to answer the Lagann's communicator screamed to life. "HELLO? ANYONE THERE? FOR THE LOVE OF THE ANTI-SPIRAL HELP!!!!"

Simon's brow furrowed at the new image, it looked like the head of the Cyan-E Hidari and Tadashii's Gunman, but it was different. "Hidari, Tadashii, is that you?"

"Vandal? Fantastic!" Its rectangular eyes tilted slightly, trying to look serious. "I am Neo Zamboa! I possess might beyond your wildest dreams!" there was however, no hiding the fright in his voice. "The culmination of the Anti-Spiral Squadron into a single entity! And you have to help me!!!!"

"Oh, so you're a point too, right?"

"What the hell are you talking about? I don't need Spiral psychobabble! I am holding two mentally unstable psychopaths and their giant doomsday bringers at bay and I don't know what to do!"

"You have all the A.S.S members' powers right?" Simon tried not to laugh at the acronym, he was feeling better already. "Shouldn't you have the intelligence to figure it out?"

"Tadashii would always yell about what had to be done! But he's gone! Well not gone, I guess I'm him still. But I already tried yelling at myself and nothing's happened!"

"You're really that desperate…"

"Of course I am! I don't know what to do, I don't know what to feel, and I don't know what to feel about not knowing what to do!" Zamboa rasped. "Having all these emotions is just too confusing."

"Can't tell right from wrong?"

Whatever cockiness it had tried to hide behind, the sadness in Zamboa's voice found itself exposed, not used to masking such a feeling. "Everything used to be so clear, and now…"

"Now you know what its like to be a real person…To make decisions on the fly with having little idea of how things will turn out." Simon thought. "Well since you don't have anymore, I've got a plan for you."

it would've been impossible to mask Zamboa's obvious, almost nauseating eagerness. "To deal with the Spiral Masters?"

"Yup." Simon said simply.

"Little bro, what do you have in mind?" Even Kamina was curios as to what complex and grandiose plan this little boy would come up with to save the universe.

His small hands tugged red goggles onto his young face, the yellow lenses almost glowing in the twilight of hereafter. "Take them out!"

"WHAT THE HELL? WHAT KIND OF PLAN IS THAT?" Zamboa began flailing his arms in frustration until he realized what he was doing and quickly resumed his original stance.

"THE BEST KIND!!!!!" Simon and Kamina roared in unison.

The panel holding the Drill Key exploded with light, more brilliant than it had ever been before. They were ready!

"Bu-bu-bu-bu-HOW? I'm barely keeping them apart as it is!"

"We obviously can't let them collide!" A fire like that which had consumed him years ago started to swell in his breast. "But they won't stop! So just make them pass each other, line em up! And we'll blast straight through them on both sides!!!"

"That's impossible!!! I-I can't! I've never done anything like this! I don't even know what this new body can do!"

"That's no excuse!" The radiance spilled gushed out to engulf the rest of the Lagann. "The fabric of reality is tattered and split, anything is possible if you have the will! Do you have enough will, mighty Neo Zamboa?"

Slightly fuming at the sarcastic inflection in the adjective, the Anti-Spiral retorted softly, but deliberately, "Even-even if we do manage to beat them, how are we going to fix everything? I mean, it's all a great cosmic mess…"

"Don't worry so much about the future, or the problems of today will never be solved! Besides…" Simon flashed a peace sign at his old enemy. "You're a pretty smart guy. I'm sure you'll figure something out. Maybe if I stayed out of your way this could've all been avoided…"

"…Thief…"

"Still," the young driller scratched his chin absentmindedly, "trying to turn us into your new Anti-Spiral hivemind may have been a bit much…"

"…How dare-no, well, maybe." In another life the composite Anti-Spiral entity would've had a strong opinion about having its plans mocked, but now that it could consider how the people of his foe's planet had felt having their minds invaded by his army of Nano-Gunmen, the jab was almost a reasonable one.

"So just make em miss and we'll start charging them when you get to the other side of the void…"

The champion of the Spirals made it sound so doable, not because he thought it was easy but because he thought it was possible. That was what was both horrible and wonderful about these Spirals, they felt that way about everything. By the Anti-Spiral, bless its gigantic meta-soul, they were actually going to go through with this insanity!

"Well," it thought. "If I'm going to go and kill myself I can probably do this." its masked, blazing face looked away from Simon's eager gaze, trying to find the words needed to lift this strange weight that was pressing on his mind. "Killer..I mean Simon, before I head out…I think I should let you know that my newfound perspective has afforded me a significant enhancing of emotional resonance with other beings. As such, hindsight, I may have been a bit harsh in our, my way of doing things. We could've asked I guess, you might've listened, your species is merely primitive, not stupied. I guess what I'm trying to say is…" The weight had not lifted as he had hoped, in fact it felt heavier than before. Doing this would be a betrayal of its old selves' convictions and practices. But its was a new person now. "I'm sorry."

Simon's eyes widened from within the goggles, but relaxed to look kindly at this show of penance. "I'll forgive you guys after we win, alright?"

"Yes, that seems…logical."

And before the screen turned black, Simon could just faintly make out a look of satisfaction on the creature's face.

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My, my, how the lowly have risen. From mere soldiers in the war against Spiral Energy to the very last hope for the universe, straining against the tainted desires of two of history's most depraved men. That's quite a promotion I'd say.

But its not just about rank mind you. How long I have to ask, how long were you all forced to exist as undying concentrated fragments of emotion? What did that feel like, to have every action of yours determined by how you were designed to make them? Did you feel safe inside those boundaries, or caged, for I shall never really know.

Now how are you going to excuse yourself for your actions 'Neo Zamboa'? You can no longer blame it on your base nature, because you can now choose what that nature is. Responsibility? Yes, that must also be taken into account, you can choose what you do know.

Oh look at your face, I can see past the metal visage, the furious flames, and you look positively pensive, the mopey kind if I might add. Nothing is no longer certain, everything seems so overwhelming, something is off, so much uncertainty. Why, for a timeless weapon of war you're as overwhelmed and perplexed as a newborn baby.

I wish I could be there, hold your hand as you keep what's left of this universe intact. Tell you just how proud I am of how you apologized to that poor child. But I'll settle for this, helping you from afar, and since you so sorely need one, perhaps I can be your instinct as well.

Now put one foot behind the other, alright, easy, don't worry I know your grip won't falter. Don't be afraid, there'll be more time for that later.

Relax your arms just a bit. So tense! You'd think the weight of the world was on your…never mind. There see, you don't need to stress yourself too much to multitask!

Next comes the tricky part…

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"-fOrW4rd!"

There was no way this was going to work.

"FORWARD!!"

It was going to screw up and everything would die.

"-F0rwArD!!"

What fragile structure of space remained would collapse, and everything would end.

"-foRWARd!"

It had never been done before, and probably never would be at the rate things were going.

"-bREak!"

It was doomed to failure and…and…

"-ShATT3r!"

Oh what the hell…

Neo Zamboa relinquished its phantom grip on the Spiral Masters. The two roared forward, now made even faster by the release. The core of existence glimmered like a helpless wretch's fragile keepsake just waiting to be ground into dust.

But there would be none of that.

Titan Cradle…

Neo Zamboa decided as its upper arms and legs ejected out into the fray. Each of the metallic appendages stretched with the ease of a wiry cat and then split into two wiry helixes. The 8 spindly metallic beams twisted themselves around the massive core, elegant synchronized swimming in a Dirac Sea, before a fantastic purple energy formed between them, covering the heart of the Keystone.

Thwarting a Spiral Master once is impossible, which is why when it was done twice, the Shredd and the Ralex thrust with even more violence and abandon than before at this orb that shielded them from finally putting their fight to an end.

Amorous Shackles…

As the surface of the shield started to crack at the fury, the center of Neo Zamboa's chest glowed a blazing pink, casting off twin beams of energy at the two monstrosities. The flagships of the Spiral Masters found themselves being pushed again, not backward this time, but forward. Instead of colliding against the Keystone as they did before however, they passed it completely, missing it and each other. Their occupants cursed and attempted to will their ships into turning.

Glassed Hour…

The Gunman could feel its torso become heavy, gaining mass to stop itself from being swept away by the temporal forces that pushed everything forward. With time splayed and castrate, with everything existing at once, this was significantly harder than the days it was stable. This was not about controlling time however, as many liked to believe. The action was more akin to sinking oneself outside the timeline, and doing what one pleased. The grand fire that surrounded it, died down as it tried to restore the concept of time to even this place, at least large enough to keep the Shredd and Ralex in the fixture of a moment, while it considered its next moved.

Neo Zamboa was just about burnt out after that stunt, and seeing the two drills trapped only brought a moment of mirth. It could see them struggling against their bonds, with all the rage and fury to fill the bleak vacuum they seemed dead set in creating.

Craven Sprint…

The choking hum of a million different boosters sputtering to life on his feet and a sudden rush of torn color spectrum later and Zamboa found itself on the very fringe of the crumpling cosmos. Even dying, it noted, the universe was still beautiful. The Keystone illuminated the shadowy wisps of creation as they flirted with the scant grace of the flickering flame, alternate dimensions drifted toward the dimensional edie resembling crumpled marshmallows being mixed into a frothy mug of hot chocolate, and though it could not detect them on any of its scanners, Zamboa knew that the souls, those meaningful impossible things, remained stationary at their discretion, a silent invisible audience to a production that could cost them their lives.

It had positioned itself opposite of where it detected the Lagann last, its radar was somehow exempt from the lack of actual space to detect. From here, if they both charged the Masters, they could very well get both of them from each side without confronting their main drills. They'd fight back of course, which would have to be dealt with.

Even so, how would the universe right itself? It knew a great many things, but this was something it had never really…had on file. And if it and its peoples did return, would they remember this, this awful climate brought forth by an abuse of Spiral Energy? Would they not, and simply blunder toward Armageddon? Would they still need to be watched over? Would they continue to hate…it and its sort?

This would have to be deliberated on.

But not now.

The thin crease that lined its abdomen widened, flexing inward, but stretching outward, forming a gaping hole lined with whale-tooth shaped metal. Its purple aura seeped into the slot, swirling into a crackling orb of concentrated light.

Anti-Spiral Energy, the counterbalance to that of the Spiral's power, the absolute essence of stability and stillness, that was so sought for by both the Anti-Spirals and its creations, was now in Zamboa's possession.

MEGA FRICTION!

Already, the maddened, scarred heavenly cadavers started to slow in their frenzied death throes, some even began to piece themselves back together.

"Hhnnn…Awesome…"

Struggling not to fall prey to the overwhelming temptation of perfect stillness, absolute preservation, Neo Zamboa leaned back, and promptly shot toward the foundation stone of time and space.

Kick some ass you guys…

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Impatient Bastard!" Kamina laughed. "He started without us!"

The spiral inferno that engulfed Simon had now grown to magnificent unparalled heights, yet paradoxically, the source of this fire could barely fill the Gurren's hand.

Simon found that kind of funny for some reason.

"Aniki, before I go, I just want to say thank you. For coming to save me again…"

"Heh, don't get used to it, coming back from the dead isn't easy you know, even for a demon like me." Gurren's free thumb made a gesture towards its body to punctuate that last point. "One more thing though…"

Kamina removed himself from the cockpit, walking across the arm until he was right in front of his younger 'brother'. He looked even worse now, clothes moth-eaten, hair dull, body thinning, but his smile, that big reassuring gesture, remained.

With little warning, he pulled Simon into an affectionate embrace, startling the young driller.

"No need to thank me Simon. You gave me courage, so I gave you courage. That's what friends and brothers do." He unwrapped his arms from the boy, wordlessly making his way back to the Gurren's mouth.

No words, Simon thought, could ever properly answer to something like that. He decided to simply nod.

And the Spiral Inferno burned even brighter in the everlasting Nil.

"Aniki," Simon choked, trying to hold back tears that should shed for this final parting. "Let's, let's do that move, the very first Lagann-Gurren team strike." He sniffed, wiping a few stray drops with his sleeve. "I promise it won't miss this time."

"ALRIGHT!" A voice loud cracked voice sounded from the Gurren. "I won't miss either!" Simon would never know that Kamina had failed in his battle against the impulse and tears were cascading down his features in those final moments.

Black beefy metal hands strongly, but carefully gripped the Lagann. As the Gurren reeled its arm back, ready to make its last grand gesture in the plane of the living, soft words escaped its great steel fangs. "Simon, what you said about the next generation wanting to outdo the previous one, does that mean you want to exceed me to?"

Simon winced, he had hoped never to have to deal with this, at least, not now.

"Don't sweat it, surpassing me is quite easy, it's the way you can surpass anyone like me!" He briefly brought the Lagann close. "It's what every man strives to do and hopes to accomplish in his life. Three Words."

And Kamina put forth the most impossible task that could be asked of Simon. He grinned, "I'll have to get back to that later."

"Damn Straight!" The arm shot back again, by now the decay had permeated to the red mecha as well, its legs were beginning to fragment from the feet up, bitter gales tugged from all sides, pieces of it were already rotting away. But Kamina didn't care, and so, neither did Simon. "CERTAIN SAVE! FINAL COMBUSTION OF A MAN'S SOUL!" The words were different, but the passion in them stayed the same. "IMPACT ATTACK!!!!"

And propelled by his brother's final act, Simon shot forward, a swirling lance to pierce the deepest depths of this blighted place.

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Twin Summations VS Sinister Remainders

Immeasurable Courage against Incomprehensible Avarice

Place your bets…

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Author Note: I was going to make it a one-shot, but I need to take a break…Be back soon with a chapter replete with closure, action, drills, bios, playboy bunny outfits and a sort of creator commentary!

Please Read, Suggest areas of improvement and Review. No flames please…or else I'll send the A.S.S! (Don't laugh at their name, they mean serious business!)