AN: I'm sure some of you noticed, but a few days ago I uploaded Chapter 27. That was an alternate version of it, which I ended up hating very quickly. It didn't do justice to this point of the story like it needed to, and it really was a disjointed mess. This is much better, and of course the ideas that I needed for this chapter only came to me after I had uploaded it. Thank-God I got rid of it and started fresh.

I oew everyone PMs and such, and I apologize. I am finally out of my crazy school phase, and am now working full-time in a pretty sweet job. I'll be getting to my PMs later today! Let me know what you think of this.

I listened to 'Towa no Rasen', 'I Don't Wanna Die', and a special something that I will mention at the end of the chapter because I don't want to spoiler you.

Regeneration

"I know that blood will be spilled, and if you won't then I will."

I Don't Wanna Die - HU

The grandeur of the mansion in which Regene Regetta passed his time was completely lost on Ailin Gallagher. The things he noticed weren't the multiple sofas that had likely never been used, the decadent art displays, or the exquisite absence of dust on any surfaces. He was taking in the strange emptiness of the house, the lack of any legitimate form of security, and the garnet hue of Regene's ever-studious gaze. He watched thin tendrils of wine run along the inside of the glass that he'd been offered upon arrival. He had no intention of drinking it, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

"Is something wrong, Ailin Gallagher? It's unlike you to ignore offered wine."

He entertained the idea of replying with a retort, but he wasn't in a frame of mind to tease anyone. He was on edge, excited and nervous, and he wasn't sure what to expect from the conversation they were about to have.

"It seems that my habits and my appetite are in ill agreement today." He'd come to Regene to find out the truth about his past. When he'd been making his way to the exquisite estate he'd been full of determined curiosity. Now he was unsure if this was what he really wanted. He knew that his past was a lie, yes. He wasn't sure how badly the truth would change him, and that left him…scared. That was something he wasn't used to feeling.

Regene watched him with cautious curiosity and a smile that betrayed his knowledge of Gallagher's worries. "You've started to remember." He deduced.

"No. Not remember. I've started to reason."

"And what conclusions have you drawn?" Regene smiled as though he already knew the answer.

Contrary to his dislike of most people, Gallagher respected Regene. The man was entertaining to speak to, and he had a surprising ability to completely do away with unnecessary words. Gallagher knew that this talent had been developed as a way to deny Ribbons' Almark any new, substantive information, but it was still a much appreciated skill.

"I know that my past is a lie." He paused.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Captain?" Regene interrupted. "The past has been known to have an irrevocable effect on the present."

Ailin swallowed. Regene's caution made him more curious… he hated the uneasy feeling that was slowly replacing his usually unshakable confidence. "Then what effect will a fake past have on the future?"

Regene's grin grew a fraction larger. Any thoughts of leaving without the truth disappeared with that grin, and Gallagher's confidence seeped back into him. "You are at a crossroads, Ailin Gallagher. On one hand, you can continue with your life as it is now; a mask, a false past, an imprint on the future that will fade as quickly as your mortality. On the other, you can discover the truth, and you can return to what you once were."

Gallagher's skin tingled and the faintest wisps of his headache started to crawl across his scalp. Was he at a crossroads, or was he standing on the edge of a cliff? Didn't that depend on the contents of his true past? Regene watched him expectantly.

He knew what words Regene was waiting for, and he could hardly believe that he was so close to an answer.

"What was I?"

Regene responded by tossing a small information drive on the table. "Listen to the recording on that drive… it'll have everything you need in order to remember."

Though the danger had long since ended, the tremor in Marina's hands hadn't stopped. The tremor was a small price to pay for escaping with her life, but she knew that it was a symptom of much larger problems that were hiding under the surface. Ever since the attack on Katharon, she'd become acutely aware of the changes within her.

She had always been an advocate of peace. Witnessing conflict as she had when she was younger, with the clash between Krugis and Azadistan, she'd quickly become accustomed to preaching peace. The middle-east was no stranger to conflict; ever since its formation hundreds of years before it had been rife with conflict. Still, the wars around her country had never been as real to her as the violence in the Katharon base had been. She'd seen victims of war, she'd helped them recover and try to start new lives, but she'd never truly understood the way they felt.

Until now.

All she could think of now was the paralyzing fear that had enveloped her in the panic room. When she closed her eyes, she saw the bright red camera-eyes of the automatons. Any loud noise could set her off, and even seeing the children playing with plastic doctor toys brought her mind back to the panic she'd felt while teaching the children how to help the wounded. She shivered.

She'd come down to one of the empty observation rooms onboard the ship to escape. She couldn't look at the children right now… not when she might betray how she really felt. It had been days since she'd slept properly, and she hoped that if she could steal away for a little while, maybe she could let out some of the tension. If she could let herself cry, maybe she could finally sleep. The children always needed her though, so it had taken a few days for her to work up the trust to let Mirial, the mechanic, keep an eye on them for a little bit.

She approached the window that looked out into space and pressed her hand against the cool tempered glass. Her previous trips to space had left her in awe of the power of the universe. This time when she looked out into the darkness, all she felt was alone.

She sunk to the floor and let herself quietly sob. The light of the stars blurred together as she let herself finally release the fear that had gripped her over the last few days. Her chest heaved, and she let herself cry out loudly this time, knowing that no one on the upper decks could hear her.

"Marina Ismail."

She froze and whipped her head around to the source of the voice. She wasn't surprised to see Setsuna standing calmly in the doorway. Still, her heart was racing. She'd succumbed to fear more in the past week than she had in her life, and it was showing.

She stood and tried to dry her eyes. "Setsuna. I'm sorry, did I interrupt you?" she asked, unsure of what he'd be doing on the lower decks, if anything. She still wasn't familiar with the operations of the ship yet.

"You're upset." He stated. He approached, closing the distance between them to stare out the window. "It is unlike you to be upset."

She looked out the window with him, her face burning. She didn't want anyone to see her like that. Still, if she had to choose, she was relieved it was Setsuna. "I suppose it is."

He watched her quietly, as though he were deciding what the issue was. He remained silent, as he always was, and she appreciated it all the more. "I'm just… I've never seen violence like that before." she admitted.

"Has it changed you?" he asked, studying her with his ever-steady gaze.

She looked down and absentmindedly played with the hem of her top. "I think so." She whispered. She could feel the tears wanting to rise again, and she had to close her eyes against them.

"You are not a person who was meant to see others die. Does it make you angry? Has it given you an understanding of the need for combat?" Though his tone rarely changed, Marina almost thought he sounded hopeful. Still, it had given her the opposite of understanding; more confusion.

She shook her head. "No. It's made me realize more than ever how unnecessary war is."

"I want to understand."

She looked at him as he stared out the window. Setsuna had seen far more than she'd ever seen, and he'd single-handedly orchestrated more fear than any one person should be capable of in a lifetime. Still, here he stood, wanting to understand. She took her time to consider her response. She knew that he would wait for it, and that he would take no offense to a comfortable silence between them.

"Well…" she said, looking back out the window with him. "The A-Laws, they kill because they're told to by people sick with greed. Others want to kill them to avenge loved ones and the precious memories that they've destroyed. The A-Laws then kill these people for killing in anger." She wasn't sure that she'd clearly conveyed her point, and she looked to him for any sign that he understood.

He nodded once. "I understand."

"You do?" she asked, surprised.

"If a man kills for revenge, then is killed for being a killer, we can never attain peace."

Setsuna had managed to refine her argument so simply. "Yes, that is what I mean." She agreed.

"If that is reality, then the need for Celestial Being is even greater than before."

"What?" she questioned. She hadn't intended to further his resolve anymore. She wanted to help him see that the violence that Celestial Being instigated wasn't necessary at all. How had he taken it to further his understanding of violence?

"If Celestial Being can end violent conflict, then there will be no need to kill for revenge."

She didn't raise an argument. She didn't have one anymore… not after what she'd seen with Katharon. That idea alone made her shiver… how much had the violence managed to change her? She felt a new wave of sadness wash over her, and she wanted to sink to the ground again, but she wouldn't.

Setsuna stood and calmly watched her inner struggle. Did he know what was happening in her mind? Was he capable of understanding the beginnings of fear? He had been a child soldier… perhaps he couldn't remember what it was like to feel fear aside from conflict anymore. "Setsuna, do you ever feel fear?"

His eyes moved the slightest amount, something she'd come to understand as curiosity.

"I mean, when you aren't fighting… during times like this."

"When things are uncertain, yes."

Marina didn't respond after that. Perhaps that was why her fear was so strong…she'd never been indoctrinated by violence like the others aboard had. It was unfamiliar. She wasn't sure how, but though he'd had an atypical, violent life, Setsuna seemed to understand people better than they understood themselves. She watched him serenely gaze out the window and wondered if she'd ever be able to have that kind of quiet understanding, or if they'd ever share it. Maybe they already did in some small way.

Regardless of their understanding, Marina realized that her hands had stopped shaking.

That was enough for now.

The small information drive was light in Gallagher's palm; much lighter than an item of its importance should have been. After Regene had handed him the drive he hadn't been able to get out of the mansion fast enough. He'd made it as far as the garden to the rear of the ornate building before he'd stopped and succumbed to the curiosity that the drive deserved.

He looked around the expansive garden. It was in full bloom, as he was sure it always was. The scent of the flowers and the lightly colored petals floating on the wind created a feeling of tranquility that Gallagher felt he didn't deserve. It was interesting that the home of such twisted minds could be surrounded by so much natural beauty. Wasn't nature supposed to innately shun evil? How was it that he was able to sit in this garden, so full of life and manicured beauty, without some form of repercussion? The corner of his mouth hinted at a grin… the world was deliciously twisted. Still, he couldn't appreciate the irony as much as he normally would; the drive was stealing enough of his attention to end his analysis of the world around him. He knew that it wasn't logical to stop and listen to the audio file here, but he didn't know if he could wait. Patience had never been a problem for him before but the drive seemed to emit an unnerving aura that drew him in dangerously. After a second slow look around the garden he determined that he'd be fairly alone, and decided that the slow wind moving through the foliage could mask any sound from the enticing drive.

He sank stiffly onto the lone bench in the center of the garden and looked at the thin piece of plastic. The glow of the setting sun set him oddly at ease as he pulled out a small set of wireless ear-buds and slipped them into his ears. He pressed play before he could give the action a second thought. The drive whirred to life and he heard a crackle as the audio file started.

At first he heard nothing but the strange static of an older audio recording, and he started to wonder if Regene was mocking him. His finger hovered over the pause button as he considered stopping before the insult grew. He held out. Strained breaths filtered in above the crackle of the recording. Just from the strange shake in the breaths, Gallagher could tell that whoever it was had been badly hurt. He was used to hearing that, after-all.

Finally a cracking, strained voice filtered through.

'What am I doing out here..?'

It was as pained as the breathing. What had Regene given him? More unsteady breathing followed, and Gallagher thought for a moment that he could hear the beeping of a mobile suit targeting system.

'But unless I get rid of him…' the voice continued. 'unless I can avenge them…I don't see how I can go on…or how I could even face the world.'

A headache trickled over his scalp and sank through his cerebrum. He shivered, and goose-bumps dotted his skin. The voice was raspy and strained, and he didn't remember it, but he could recognize it easily enough…

It was his.

'I've got no other choice.' The headache spiked and he slumped forward, pressing pause and taking a few ragged breaths to calm himself. The pain was the surest indicator of the recording's truth, but he couldn't let it overpower him. He had to hear the dim recording over his own breathing. His breath levelled and he pressed play.

'Targeted and firing!'

He was awash with cold.

His eyes clenched shut behind his mask as his whole body was filled with electricity. The world was changing, shifting, becoming déjà vu. He couldn't see it past his shut eyes, but he could feel gravity leaving as his mind was overloaded with the absolution of a memory. The garden around him disappeared; he could no longer feel the sun. When he opened his eyes again, he was in space.

As the bright light of the afternoon faded away, starlight trickled into his vision. He was floating – no – drifting. He was drifting slowly through the dark emptiness of space. He didn't know where, or how, or why he was there, but a strange sense of calm had enveloped him. It didn't matter that he was drifting aimlessly; the feeling moved through him, warmed him. He realized that he couldn't see anything through his right eye, but somehow that didn't bother him. It didn't matter.

Through his remaining eye he could see pieces of blue and grey debris floating with him, but the twisted metal and singe marks mottling the paint didn't bother him. He was lost in the beauty of glowing green particles and the soft light of the sun as it was disappearing around the world.

'Father…Mother…Amy…'

The recording continued, yet it was so much clearer than I had been moments ago. It had blended into reality as seamlessly as the scenery had changed. The voice was so real that he could almost feel the vibrations from his throat, though he knew he hadn't uttered a word. The warm feeling that had dragged him into the darkness slowly turned to an inescapable sadness as the voice continued on.

'I know... the things I've done may not change anything…that things will never go back to the way they were'

Flashes of faces moved through his mind. Gallagher recognized them as Lyle Dylandy's family, but another part, an expanding and waking part of him, recognized them as his own. He started to realize that he knew the words that were about to come… like the voice they were also his own.

'Even so… from now on… after today, the future that Lyle will know…'

Lyle; his Adversary, his brother. The pain of old guilt rose as he understood the pilot's pivotal place in his life. He could feel the pieces of himself slipping together, growing connections, and smoothing into a full image of his identity.

'Setsuna, did you find your answer?'

He knew Setsuna, the pilot of Gundam Exia, the mind inside its successor. He didn't just know him, he remembered him. Where minutes earlier he had only known him as an efficient killer, now he knew him as the young boy from Krugis who was on an eternal quest for answers. The boy he'd given a name to.

The pain in Gallagher's head was replaced with the pain of mourning in his chest. He could feel himself awaken – his true self. He was starting to understand who he had been, and who he was becoming again. He could remember – really remember – who he was.

He was Neil Dylandy. He was a Gundam Meister, a member of Celestial Being. He was the son of murdered parents, the brother of a murdered sister. He was Lyle Dylandy's twin.

Gallagher could feel himself slipping away piece by piece the more he remembered. He was losing his grip on himself as he felt his memories fill his mind and his real identity surface. He was drowning in the truth.

'You… people down there, are you satisfied with the way the world is?'

The world loomed to his left, and the emotions he'd felt when he'd said those words flooded back through him. Anger, regret, frustration. They were for all the things that had happened, and all the things he hadn't been able to change.

'As for me… I hate it.'

When he'd left the world, he had hated it more than anything in his life. The world had been the one to twist so many lives, and it was the immovable force that refused to change no matter how hard he pushed. That hatred was the only thing that was familiar to Gallagher; the only remnant that had been left of himself after his transformation.

Hate.

A bright flash of heat and light enveloped him and he was temporarily suspended in a state of slow confusion before the present reappeared. He didn't notice the warmth of the afternoon sun as he crept back to reality; his skin could still feel the freezing cold of space. His eyes focused slowly and all the detail of the garden and the day returned. Warm wind brushed his face and replaced the blinding heat that he'd felt moments ago. He sat up.

The recording had stopped, and he'd been left in silence. Panic gripped him as he realized that he was still sitting in the innovator's biological refuge.

He had to get away from the mansion.

Ammunition carefully jingled back into the box that Lyle had taken it from. He'd come to the range with the intention of distracting himself from the feelings that had been lingering with him since the Katharon incident the week before, but shooting hadn't done anything but upset him. His targets were good for an average sniper, but terrible for him. He couldn't focus on anything right now, not when his mind was so focused on everything that had been lost days before. Katharon had been set back badly and their strongest technology had been destroyed. The Africa Tower had been lost, and despite Celestial Being's best efforts, sixty-thousand lives had still ended. Finally, there were the small battles that everyone on-board was faced with. So many people had lost so much, and no matter what he did, this time he couldn't push the feelings away.

Sumeragi was nowhere to be found now that she had time to feel her guilt again. Hallelujah was safely tucked away in his padded room, and Marie's alter-ego had decided to take over upon the loss of their father-figure. Ian was keeping busy with repairs, and even Lasse, Feldt, and Anew were keeping themselves unusually busy to give everyone else time to themselves. Setsuna had come back from his adventure much quieter and more stoic than he had been before, and Tieria had kept himself firmly seated on the bridge, tying everything together until Sumeragi could recover enough from her guilt.

He leaned against the wall and looked down the man-made cave of a range. How had everything become so blurred? Even he wasn't himself… he was far from it. He'd been up all night trying to distract himself from the recurring dreams he'd been having of the last time he and Neil had seen each other. He knew it was a product of the A-Laws pilot's voice, yet he couldn't shrug off the dreams like he would have before.

Everything had changed.

He slid the ammunition box back into its secure position and flung his uniform jacket over his shoulder. He needed to take his mind off everything, and simulations in Cherudim could possibly be the solution.

He was caught by surprise when the door slid open and Reverie stepped into the room. Her footprints echoed in the large space, and she stopped when she saw him.

"Sorry…I can come back later." She half-mumbled.

"I was just leaving." He said. He wasn't sure why she'd apologize for being in the range, but knew that it had to be a small symptom of the way her life had changed in the last week. He'd been worried about her over the past days… she spent hour after hour in the NILE system, entering reports and keeping a watchful eye out for any A-Laws activity as they made their way to Lagrange Six. It wasn't healthy…she barely slept. She was up before he was, and the Nile System was always active after hours. Shia, the medic, had come to him wondering where she was for her nightly injections, but he'd had no answer for him other than to point at the hallway leading to the predictive forecasting system.

Reverie looked at him skeptically, her eyes lined with exhaustion. "Are you leaving?"

He'd stopped moving for the door when she'd stepped in, and he didn't want to leave now. There was a time when she'd been a close friend on board, when he'd look forward to running into her. Somehow that had changed. He didn't regret running into her, but somehow they'd lost their camaraderie. It was pointless. She moved to head back out the door when she realized that he wasn't moving. "You know…"

She stopped.

"…everything from before seems immature now, doesn't it?" he finished, watching her eyes. He hadn't realized how close they were until now.

She looked away, and he realized that she'd lost the confidence that she'd originally cloaked herself with when they'd first met. She nodded. "I'd still give the world to go back." She stepped towards the door, attempting to flee their stilted conversation.

"Wait." he caught her wrist lightly and she froze. She didn't look back, and he didn't expect her to. As long as she was listening, he was all right. "Rev…" her head moved a fraction to acknowledge him. "If you need to get it off your chest, you can stop by any time."

"Let's hope that it doesn't come to that." She muttered, then disappeared through the door.

He hoped it did. He didn't know what to say or how to make anything better, but he knew that he didn't want to lose her to the same insanity that had stolen his brother.

Gallagher's chest thudded loudly as he maneuvered his pseudo-gundam into space. His body was covered in sweat, his right eye throbbed, and his mind was fragmenting. He could feel himself being fought in his mind… his other self was trying to re-emerge and take control, but he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let himself be destroyed, not yet.

His mind was being torn in two by loud, insanely detailed memories that ripped him out of the present. This was nothing like the memory that had gripped him when he'd listened to the recording in the garden. These memories came so suddenly and so intensely that he'd frequently found himself veering off course as he was ripped into another time. Neil Dylandy was breaking through Gallagher's carefully masked surface, and he wanted to force him back into the repression box that he'd come from.

The Proculeza ripped through the atmosphere just in time for Gallagher's vision to blur again, and he yelled in frustration as his console disappeared before him. He snarled through his teeth as he was ripped into a quiet hallway in a building that he didn't remember, but which Neil Dylandy did. He shook his head violently and forced himself to stay conscious. He couldn't afford to keep flip-flopping between memories and reality, despite his mind's insistence.

"What are you doing here, Neil?"

The cockpit came back into dim view as the memory played itself out against his conscious mind. He could hear voices above the roar of the atmosphere around the Gundam, even as he accelerated rapidly.

"I can't just visit my brother at school?"

He was fragmenting.

"Do whatever you want, Neil. That's what you've always done."

Gallagher laughed in the empty cockpit. Was this really how his existence would end? Pushed aside by a man who was deluded enough to think that he could end war? He could feel Neil Dylandy's determination fighting his own, and it was a fight that he was sure he didn't want to lose. One of them would win, and memories or not, Gallagher did not want to die. He would do whatever it took to stay alive and in control, which was why he was shooting into space at that very moment.

If he could destroy Celestial Being, he could destroy Neil Dylandy's will to live. It wouldn't be easy, but they wouldn't see it coming. He knew where Celestial Being's bases were, where their supply routes were, and where the Ptolemaios II would likely dock.

Where the last remaining member of Neil Dylandy's family was.

The thought of killing Neil Dylandy's brother made him giddy… he could feel the other part of him fight harder for control the longer the idea turned over in his mind.

"How will you live with yourself if you've killed your brother, Neil Dylandy!?" Gallagher challenged. His voice was crazed as it filled the cockpit. His stomach turned violently and he laughed with glee… it was as sure a sign as any that Neil Dylandy wouldn't take that development very well.

He wondered what it would be like to murder a piece of himself.

He grinned.

It would be just like murdering anyone else.

Tee-hee! I listened to Neil's death to get in the mood to write the scene of 'him' in the Garden.

Cookies to those who guessed this right away when Gallagher was introduced in Ch.10 *cough* Stormy *cough*.