She saw him fall from above, an ill omen of chaos and tragedy. The universe in a grain of violent truth, a hardened battle seed stratified by the atmosphere. He tore up her glass skies, beyond it she saw infinite possibilities. He was an answer to a question she could not yet articulate. Without his helmet, he looked the portrait of a warrior-child, muscular jaw incongruous on such a young face. Here lay shipwrecked a celestial wanderer, a castaway stranded on this small rock.
Carnage in his wake, he was a force of destruction. She was naive enough to think him a hot-blooded revolutionary. That had been before her father's death, murder, assassination. Rebels swept in as vultures to a kill. Amidst tears and her father's blood, a steely metal hand clacked and cautioned her to stay away from Heero Yuy.
The boy of many secrets. He stood still in her collapsed world, and she stepped through the ruins toward him. Were his secrets as ill-gotten as her own?
A small piece of the puzzle fell into place, Heero's perennial brooding. He had judged the world, and found it wanting. The cold anger of an adolescent soldier burned in him with the light of dying suns, she felt sure no lesser man could power such a machine as his mobile suit.
He had saved her life, and took his own. He left her with a terrible purpose. She was not the first Peacecraft to pick up a gun for revenge.
Perhaps she would follow him into the dark, perhaps she would meet him again. On the horizon where the sky touched the sea, they would converse face to face.