AUTHOR'S NOTE: Before I proceed with Part 2, I think I need to add something that I forgot to mention in Part I. Endless Waltz has occurred in my story, but the Gundams have not been destroyed, nor have they had their Endless Waltz upgrades. The lack of upgrades is really just a personal opinion (I like the normal upgraded Gundams more, even though Wing Zero in the Endless Waltz does look really cool) but the fact that the Gundams still exist will be explained in my fanfic. (Though probably not in this particular part) Oh and before I forget, Heero and Relena are a couple in this fanfic, so if you don't like it, I would stop reading. This is NOT a hook-up fic though, and does not focus on the relationship between 1XR. With that said, enjoy Part 2!
"Now you die!"
Heero gaped in shock. Not at the corny threat, but at the sound of the voice that had said it. Instead of being sweet, smooth, and overwhelmingly female, it had changed radically into a harsh, growling, deep, distinctively male voice. Who IS this woman?
One of Wing Zero's monitors flashed and interrupted Heero's train of thought. It showed the Altron, smoking, battered, dismembered and decapitated. Its beam lance was lying cut in two on the ground, rendered useless. He heard Wufei's outraged roar over the radio link, accompanied by Trowa's, Quatre's, and Duo's shocked gasps and ejaculations. The Altron had been totally disabled in a few seconds by one person without a mobile suit.
Siren seemed to be standing in the exact same spot, black eyes flashing and dark sword burning. She stood motionless but alert, and was apparently waiting for the other pilots to make the first move.
When all five of the Gundams were sent to destroy Siren, Heero had felt that it was an unnecessary move bordering on overkill. He had sincerely believed that both Lady Une and Sally Po had made a grave miscalculation. Now, looking at the smoking ruins of the Altron and the stoic figure of the woman who had destroyed it, he decided to never doubt his two superiors ever again.
Heero also decided that he could spare no more time being shocked senseless and let the Zero System take over. Emotions such as shock, fear, and anger became alien as his world centered on his enemy; everything else became a distant second. Even so, distant seconds still had to be dealt with, such as the condition of Wufei.
"Wufei, what happened? Are you hurt?" Heero inquired in his old monotone voice. It felt comfortably familiar, even though he hadn't used it for at least a year. In fact, he hadn't used it since he had confessed his love for Relena, and she had returned it.
Heero heard another enraged roar from Wufei. Well at least I know he's all right, he thought wryly.
"ARRRRGH!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT SHE JUST TOTALLY DESTROYED NATAKU!!" Wufei bellowed, furious. "JUST YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET MY GUNDAM REPAIRED, ONNA!!!"
"Enough, Wufei," Heero replied coldly, "Tell us how she defeated you."
The same gruff male voice answered him inside his mind. "You're just the ideal Perfect Soldier, aren't you Heero Yuy?" The voice laughed coldly. "I'm glad that you haven't softened up over the years. I'll enjoy destroying you."
"Who are you? How did you know his name?" Heero heard a puzzled Quatre ask.
"And what's wrong with your voice?" added Trowa darkly.
The strange voice laughed again. "Fools. Nothing is wrong with my voice. I am Diablo, the 'burning sword' that you see my Master holding. I have merged with the body and soul of Siren. Together, we know all. Together, we are the TRUE God of Death."
Heero heard Duo's indignant sputter. "Hey buster, that was a nice speech and all, but I think you're a little confused," the braided pilot said. "I'm the God of Death, and no dumb sword steals my nickname."
Siren turned to fix her surreal gaze on the Deathscythe Hell. Somehow, Heero noted, she seemed more frightening than even the scariest looking of all the Gundams.
Zero whispered something into his mind. "Tell us about your sword," he demanded suddenly, "Where did you get it? How do you use it?" Heero had long decided that the sword was the most dangerous aspect of Siren, and seeing the sword capable of slicing through Gundanium alloy as if it were slicing through butter merely confirmed it. So did the Zero System.
"Have you forgotten so quickly?" Diablo answered him dryly. "I'll tell you when you defeat me. But for now, I'm going to teach a lesson to your impertinent buddy over there."
Heero was prepared this time when Siren made her (his?) move. The Zero System could follow her extremely fast movements, but even with enhanced vision, he could only see her move in an indistinct black blur. Heero then saw what seemed like the incredibly slow movement of Deathscythe Hell bringing its green, double-bladed scythe down to chop Siren in half. Siren, being much faster, easily dodged the deadly scythe, and systematically used Diablo to slice off both of Deathscythe's arms and its head, effectively rendering the mighty Gundam useless. The scythe flew spinning into the air and landed a few feet away from her. Siren crushed it into two pieces with a small booted foot, smiling wickedly as if relishing the resounding crunch. The two green blades of the scythe blinked, and then frizzled out.
The Zero System told Heero that all of this had happened in no more than 15 seconds. He was suddenly grateful that he was immune to surprise, or else he would have probably been immobilized from the sheer shock of watching the second best Gundam in fighting skills get its ass kicked.
Duo unfortunately, was not immune. "Deathscythe?" he inquired in a small voice. His Gundam did not answer. "You're going to be all right, old buddy. You're going to be just fine," he said, as if reassuring himself as much as his Gundam.
Heero recognized his comrade's desperate statements. Duo had said much the same thing before Trowa had destroyed the original Deathscythe. He had to snap Duo out of his shock.
"Duo, snap out of it," he commanded. "Deathscythe is destroyed, but far from dead. It'll be repaired easily enough."
Heero then carefully observed a monitor that showed the interior of Duo's cockpit. He watched as Duo's face spasmed, and then as his blue eyes gradually unglazed and started to glitter, hard with anger.
Duo's voice was eerily calm. "Yeah…sure thing Heero." He then continued with sheer hatred coloring his words, "But it's gonna cost that bitch."
Normally, Heero would have sighed with relief and laughed, but the Zero System had a hold on him, so he responded with an emotionless "Roger that," instead.
Surprisingly, Siren/Diablo did not respond with anymore threats or sarcasm. She just stood casually in the middle of the meadow, and seemed to be weary of fighting such easy battles. Just you wait until you fight ME, Siren, Heero thought.
He then saw a slight movement from a monitor that held a view of Trowa out of the corner of his eye. Trowa gave him a steady, methodical look, and then pointed towards the controls for his homing missiles. Heero nodded and approved of his plan. Trowa always was the practical one.
Heero raised his buster rifle and locked it onto Siren. Trowa locked on his 36 missiles to the same target.
Without another second's delay, they both fired.
Strife glared darkly at the middle-aged, stuffy secretary. He was in no mood to deal with slow flunkies that liked to toy with people in a hurry. He had asked to be briefed, not to wait for ten minutes while a lazy woman pulled up computer files!
"Are you finished yet?" Strife demanded icily as he leaned against the heavy oak table.
"Not yet, hon," the secretary drawled. "It might take a few more minutes. Why don't you just sit down over there instead of pacing around like some caged cat?" She idly blew the pink bubble gum she had been chewing and it popped inches from Strife's callused hand.
That's it. Strife reached for the crimson hilt of Ragnarok hanging quiescent on his back and was about to decapitate the annoying secretary when a sultry, feminine voice speaking into his mind stopped him.
"Temper, temper Strife," his sword chastised. "I don't see what's gotten you all riled up. I'm usually the one with all of the emotions, not you."
"But Rag," he thought back to her, "This woman isn't giving me the information I need for my mission. She's being stubborn and slow, just to annoy me."
"You sound like a six year old, Strife. Sure, you could destroy her, but what would the Baron think of that? Are you ready to risk your paycheck just so you don't have to wait a few minutes?"
Strife thought about what Ragnarok had said and reluctantly agreed with her. His hand moved slowly away from the hilt of his sword. Rag is right; I am being overly emotional. What's wrong with me?
"Nothing is wrong with you Strife," he heard Ragnarok say soothingly. "You're just upset at the idea of destroying Odessa, that's all. There's nothing wrong with that."
Strife smiled. Rag always did have a way of reassuring him. He no longer felt angry or impatient, and he took the secretary's advice to sit down. Ragnarok relaxed as well; he could feel her lounge and stretch contentedly like a cat. Presently, he felt a certain type of dullness in his mind, signaling that Ragnarok had fallen asleep. Blade Souls…always sleeping on the job, Strife thought, amused.
Meanwhile, the secretary had no idea of how close to death she had been two minutes ago or of the silent communication between a skilled Blade Mage Assassin and his Aura Blade. She merely smiled in satisfaction as she saw the tall man sit down. No doubt she felt that she had won a battle. She decided to reward him for his obedience and tapped in a few essential keys.
"I've found the information that you need, Mr. Mercury," the secretary cooed a few short minutes later.
Strife resisted the powerful urge to say, "Finally!" and moved towards the secretary's desk instead. He raised a dark eyebrow. "Well…?"
The secretary scanned the computer screen. "It says here that Siren is currently head of a large underworld operation called Siren Song on the planet Earth, circa A.C 198."
"Earth? What's Odessa doing on a sleazy planet like that?" Strife asked skeptically.
The secretary shot him a disapproving look, despite his intimidating fiery sword. "I thought Elite Assassins knew better than to say ignorant stuff like that."
Strife was indignant, and only Ragnarok's previous warning saved the rude secretary's life. "What do you mean?" he demanded.
"Sure the Earth in this universe is a dump, but did you notice the date?" She continued without waiting for an answer. "A.C 198. After Colony 198 - not only will you have to travel back in time; you'll have to switch universes. I doubt that the Earth there will be even half as messed up as the one here."
Strife had to give her credit; even he had forgotten what 'A.C' actually stood for. Oddly enough, there were no colonies in his technologically advanced universe, so mostly everybody didn't have any idea what 'A.C' meant. What are you up to in a different universe, Odessa? he wondered. But whatever the reason was, it wasn't doing him any good to linger in the Baron's offices. So he grudgingly thanked the secretary and then immediately exited.
As Strife left the enormous Complex, he pondered over the information he had received. A.C 198…planet Earth…it all sounds so familiar to me. But despite his best efforts, he couldn't seem to make a connection. Strife sighed - he hated asking Ragnarok for help. It always made her so cocky. Though yet again, he had no choice. The information that the secretary had given him wasn't nearly enough. After all, Rule Number 5 of the Assassin's Code said to never switch universes or travel in time without ample background information. Besides, he hardly had time to sit down in the library and leisurely flip through the encyclopedias.
So Strife steeled himself to question his second soul.
"Rag!! You lazy bum, wake up!!!" he roared to his sleeping Blade. Strife could feel her wake up and could also feel her immediate irritation.
"Alright already! God! What's your problem? You know that the scabbard makes me want to sleep all the time!" she shouted back in return.
His head ringing, Strife knew that she was right. His rune-inscribed, magic scabbard dulled Ragnarok's potent powers and forced her to sleep most of the time. Only a strong effort by Rag or a direct command from Strife would wake her up. The scabbard even blocked her fiery red aura, reducing it to a faint glow pulsing gently from the leather scabbard. This blunting of magic was solely for his protection; a sort of backup if Ragnarok ever grew too strong for him to control. Strife shuddered at the thought of the latter; for an uncontrollable Aura Blade as powerful as Ragnarok (and with such an extremely quick temper) would be invincible.
"Damn straight I would. And the first free act I would do is to destroy you for your impertinence," threatened Rag.
"And how many times have I heard THAT, my dear Blade," Strife retorted. "Besides, I would never let you Fuse so many times that you'd be too powerful for me. I'm not stupid."
Ragnarok laughed at him, which resulted in the oddest shaking sensation in Strife's mind. "Like I'll ever believe THAT, my dear Master. You know that I'm the only pair of brains you have."
Strife had to laugh along with her. He wondered idly where Rag had acquired her sense of humor. He didn't remember anyone even remotely funny that he had Fused her with. But then again, Strife hadn't been looking to Fuse Ragnarok with people that possessed a sense of humor; he had been looking for people with a fiery hot temperament (i.e. a red aura).
They both gradually sobered up. Strife spoke first. "I hate saying this, but I need your help Rag."
Which immediately resulted in more guffaws from Rag and various statements on how she told him that he'd need her help and that she was the only smart one and what would he do without her, etc.
Strife suddenly interrupted her obnoxious tirade. "Shut up Rag. Just answer my question. What do you know about planet Earth in the year After Colony 198?"
He felt her search through his memories to find out what she had missed while she was sleeping, rather than ask why he wanted to know. It was the weirdest feeling; Strife still hadn't gotten used to in the six years he had possessed Ragnarok. It felt like hands rummaging through his brain like one would rummage through a file cabinet. Strife couldn't help but stiffen a bit. He felt as Rag quickened her efforts if wanting to cause him the least amount of discomfort possible. Strife smiled. She really was a kind, affectionate Blade Soul, despite her sullen front.
The odd feeling abruptly stopped. "Now what's Odessa doing on Earth in a different universe anyway?" he heard her ask.
"My thought's exactly, Rag. But do you have any other information that we might need?"
"Sure do. Turns out that that particular planet Earth is the one inhabited by the famous Gundam pilots and the Preventors. It would be wise to contact them first."
Strife did a double take. The Gundam pilots and their story were legendary even on Lothos, which was a relatively distant, out-there kind of planet. Not to mention it was located in a totally different universe.
"No way!" Strife exclaimed. "I'll actually be meeting the Gundam pilots?"
Rag chuckled. "You sound like a little boy, even though you're three years older than every single one of them." She hesitated, as if she didn't want to disappoint him by saying anymore.
"Well…out with it Rag." Strife demanded impatiently.
She sighed. "Yeah, you'll be meeting them all right, Strife. They're bound to be going after Odessa too - remember, she's the leader of a rebellion, and they have to 'maintain the peace'."
Strife felt his childish joy abruptly diminish. Odessa was powerful, he knew, and so was her Aura Blade, Diablo. But against all five of the virtually indestructible Gundams? Well even he would have some trouble.
"I can't let them destroy her, Rag," he said fiercely. Strife found himself suddenly wondering why he felt so strongly about the issue. It'd be easier for me if the Gundams DID destroy her… so why do I care so much?
"Because you love her," Ragnarok answered his unasked question, simply and quietly.
He did not deny it.
YET ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, so this part was pretty long. But you should begin to expect parts to be about this long, because if I write short parts, they'll end up being like 56 of them. So I'm doing Zapenstap a favor by writing long parts. And now I'm going to stop rationalizing.