Angel
by Raletha
For Misanagi
PG : Quatre-centric : canon, angst
He'd been called angelic as a child, but he'd never felt such until now. His new, metal wings carried him through the slowing tumbling debris of shattered Leos. Sharp edges of metal caught the sun, streaking shards of brilliance across his view-screen. The finely tuned engines of the new Gundam thrummed a soothing counterpoint to the vibration of blood through his body. The power of this new machine suffused him with a giddy--almost sexual--arousal. His awareness was that of the Gundam's enhanced sensor array. He could see all of it: every piece on the board, every potential outcome, countermove, or obstacle. He could feel the patterns of strategy in his mind, tangible and transparent. The power was his.
It was, he understood, the power to end War. And as Wing ZERO gave it to him, so did Quatre take it.
"It's what I've always wanted," he murmured.
He waited, patient as a god, and watched the civilian evacuation of the space colony. One after another, the shuttles left and turned on a course to lead them back into Earth's gravity. He was sending them all back home. The venture into space had become a canker on human history. Humans were not ready to live yet among the stars. With their earthbound minds and yen for violence, he would send them home and cleanse space of their polluted ideals. Space would remain a haven for the pure and the visionary.
The buster rifle whined as it charged. Quatre raised the massive gun in his inhuman arms and sited the colony's power source. When he pulled the trigger, he did not feel the sting of his tears.
the end