Yzak felt his muscles slowly relax as he watched Station One fall apart in front of his eyes.
They had done it. Or part of it, at least. Countless explosions in the sky still lighted up their cockpits in an ominous shade of red, and their intercom was still barking a million indistinguishable things at them. The chaos and confusion was still there, but it all seemed like some part of a distant dream.
The Earth was safe, if only for the time being.
"So what now, Yzak?"
Dearka's voice broke him from his trance, and he quickly glanced over his radar. They had won this small section of the battle, yes, but the battlefield was still very much active.
"We will stay with the Eternal and continue to defend this ship. Copy that?"
Dearka and Shiho nodded in the monitor, and he nodded back in acknowledgement.
It was strange, surreal almost, to see the battlefield from the side they were on. Just three years ago, Yzak had been a young, naive, hot-blooded boy who was almost paralyzed by the anger and grief inside of him. The war he started fighting to protect his people had turned into a battle he fought to escape his pain. He just needed an outlet so he would not burst into flames on the spot; he needed to be able to blame somebody else, so he did not have to carry the weight of his own mistakes.
He had changed since then. This was no longer a battle to escape from himself, but it was a battle to protect the things he held dear.
His future.
He glanced at Shiho's face in the monitor before accelerating into space.
xoxox
It seemed like a miracle that the Orb forces would be able to hold its own against ZAFT. Orb was still reeling from its defeat only days ago; ZAFT had every advantage, in terms of manpower, arsenal, organization.
But in the end, they had prevailed.
They had saved the future of humanity.
The entire battlefield fell silent as the remains of Messiah slowly fell to the face of the moon. Nobody moved –nobody dared to move, awed by the scene unfolding in front of their eyes. They were the witness to the end of another long, bloody war. They were also witnessing any possibility of Dullindal's perfect, fantasy world fall to pieces.
A fantasy that had meant the world to some.
Yzak, Shiho and Dearka were also among those who looked on in awe, until an anguished roar pierced the stale air in their cockpit.
"What have you done?"
It was a man's voice. Older, perhaps in his fifties. It was desperate. Pleading. Yzak knew that voice all too well; it was the voice of someone who had lost a loved one.
The kind of person who would have eaten up Dullindal's ideals, the vision of a perfect world where nobody else would have to suffer like himself.
It took all of them by surprise. They were still dazed from the destruction of Messiah, but an even bigger part of them was perplexed –simply, genuinely perplexed- at the man's words. But they had done the right thing. They had fought for liberty, for freedom, for the future. Their brains were too overwhelmed to make sense of the man's words and understand why he was upset.
It only took a second.
One of the countless ZAKUs that now floated aimlessly in space slowly pointed its beam cannon towards them. Just as a flash of light left the cannon, Yzak realized in horror what the pilot was aiming at. He frantically pounded on his controls, but his reaction was slow. Much too slow. Pure, unadulterated terror engulfed him, and an unearthly roar, scream, something, left his throat trying to reach her before it was too late.
A ray of light pierced Shiho's cockpit.
And then, darkness.
Thank you for being patient with my incredibly slow updates. I truly, truly appreciate that you're taking time out of your busy day to be reading this.
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