Author Note: It's been a while, but I hope you enjoy this chapter! Lately, I've been reflecting on this fic and "Witch from Mercury," and I wasn't entirely satisfied with the ending and true climax of the show. So, I've decided to try my hand at it and explore where it takes us. Your support means a lot, so please remember to follow, favorite, and leave a review. I'll be responding in the next chapter, and it'll be a longer one. Best regards and happy holidays!
Chapter 20 - Last Druid of Harmony
IMC Outer Sector
Harmony's Revengence, a dreadnaught class destroyer, loomed in the cosmic void like a vengeful ghost. Forged in the desperate days of the war for Harmony, it was meant to be the savior, the vanguard that would lead the charge against the oppressive corporations, not only reclaiming their planet but liberating Earth itself. A beacon of hope that could have turned the tides, but alas, it arrived too late.
The Benrett Group, weary of the prolonged conflict, sought a swifter resolution. Atomics descended like a merciless rain, reducing the once-thriving world to a desolate expanse of ash. Aiden, Oscar, Deacon, Jack, Daniel, and the others found themselves scattered across the galaxy, fighting a war that had become a forlorn cause.
In the aftermath, Aiden wandered amidst the ruins of his family home, where the skeletal remnants of loved ones haunted the scorched landscape. Deacon's sisters met a slow demise through radiation, and even the orphaned Oscar felt the weight of a lost world. Jack, stripped of his inheritance and familial prestige, bore the scars of a time when things were different. Time may heal, but the past, with its claws, refuses to release its grip.
Before, Deacon etched the names of his sisters onto his titan, wielding weapons with a ferocity befitting a feral pack of wolves. The camaraderie with Marko united warbands into a formidable legion. Before they realized the abyss they were descending into, the sins and taint growing within their ranks became undeniable.
But where were they now?
Aiden stood, hands behind his back, clad in full pilot armor. He strolled through the dimly lit hallway, the night—or was it night?—enveloping the ship. Dan's helmet dangled from his belt, a silent testimony to battles fought.
Gazing into the cosmic expanse, Aiden contemplated the vibrant hues of distant stars. Thoughts wandered to Suletta—what was she doing at this very moment? He sighed, fingers running through unruly hair, brushing against a bandage on his forehead—a reminder of a near miss with a cluster rocket fragment.
Surviving another dance with death, Aiden questioned the purpose of it all. His world obliterated, what did life or death matter anymore? Yet, the word "nothing" lingered, echoing the absence of his world but contrasted by the presence of friends, brothers, and Miorine.
Suletta, a constant in their days, brought warmth with her sweetness. Even Jack, once distant, warmed to her. A fleeting smile crossed Aiden's face at the thought, only to dissolve as a haunting memory emerged, casting a shadow over the dwindling stars.
"Suletta, it's getting pretty damn cold around here," Aiden's voice echoed in his mind, and with those words, the steel and space itself morphed and twisted into something familiar—the outer campus of the academy.
In that wintry scene, an ice cream store stood, a place Henryk and his crew frequented. It wasn't their usual joint, but Aiden wanted Suletta's first taste to be something special.
They sat outside, Aiden and Suletta, fresh out of class, on a park bench overlooking the ebb and flow of people. Families strolled with their dogs, and others, like them, took a moment to simply relax.
Aiden's holder uniform gleamed in pure porcelain white, drawing unwanted attention. But Suletta, lost in the ecstasy of her ice cream, didn't notice. "This is amazing," she declared, rosy cheeks betraying the cold.
"Damn it, Suletta, you never mentioned you were freezing." Aiden scolded, shedding his holder jacket and draping it over her shoulders. She clutched it tighter, gazing at him with gratitude.
"Are you all right?" Aiden inquired.
Suletta's gaze dropped. "Aiden, you don't have to coddle me."
"I'm not coddling you," Aiden retorted.
"You didn't even ask if I wanted your coat," Suletta replied, a playful smile gracing her lips.
"Yeah, well…whatever." Aiden reddened, turning away, only to hear her laughter—a melody to his ears. Facing her again, he noticed her lone braid falling across her chest, and for a moment...
"You don't stutter anymore with me," Aiden spoke, seemingly lost in the moment.
Suletta paused, her finger tapping her chin as if questioning the sky. Shrugging, she said, "I guess I've gotten very comfortable with you, Aiden Winters," a grin accompanying her words.
Aiden chuckled. "Really? That's a shock. Remember how shy and anxious you were when we first met."
Suletta shook her head defensively, pouting. "Well, you acted super afraid of me before, then you beat up Guel, and..."
She stopped herself, her gaze turning towards him with a smile. "I'm glad you're here with me, Aiden. Seriously, you and Miorine...without you two, I don't know what I'd be doing here. Ifyou weren't here, I'd probably be expelled."
On the park bench, the academy's artificial atmosphere was waning. The manufactured sun dimmed, yielding to an ascending moon, casting a spectral glow. Yet, a pulsating energy pervaded the air; Christmas was on the horizon. The academy embraced a festive aura, and Aiden found himself surprisingly unfazed by it.
A charged atmosphere enveloped them, accompanied by the distant strains of George Carlin's "Last Christmas." Suletta, finishing her ice cream cone, hands now in her lap, stared into it, her face tinged with a crimson hue.
A perplexed look from Aiden prompted speculation. Why was she blushing so fiercely? Perhaps it was the ambiance of the occasion or...
"You know, I have that list, right," Suletta spoke casually, her eyes casting heat-rays into her lap, Aiden fixated on her every move.
"Yeah," he replied, simplicity framing his words. A sigh escaped him, his gaze shifting to the stars in the solar system. This ice cream outing wasn't just a pleasant event; it preceded something significant, possibly their last shared moment.
Suletta vigorously nodded her head, her cheeks nearly matching the crimson of her hair. "Th-th-ere are... responsibilities... of what would happen, if you helped me."
Aiden leaned into the bench, contemplating whether now was the moment to lay it all out. She stuttered, fingers tightening on her academy uniform, the wind whipping against her. Aiden's jacket threatened to slip away, but his arms enveloped her, securing the jacket and pulling her into his embrace. Cheeks aflame, Suletta realized the proximity between them. Perhaps this was the opportune time to say it.
"Aiden," she steeled herself, and the stuttering ceased. Her blue eyes rose to meet his. "Can I ask you a question?"
He looked at her, lost in the oceanic blue of her eyes. She was everything he had ever longed for—a dream, once so distant in the face of death, now manifested in the form of a living, breathing woman. A red angel transformed into flesh and blood.
Aiden briefly averted his gaze, then forcefully returned it. "Can I... tell you something first?"
Suletta's eyes widened, cheeks deepening in a more profound shade of red. Her hand found its way to softly rest against Aiden's palm, but he was too engrossed in his thoughts to notice. As he raised his hand, her fingers slipped through, intertwining with his own on the wooden bench.
Suletta sensed the unspoken weight beneath Aiden's words, a silence that hung in the air like a shroud. His manner, the cadence of his speech, everything felt askew, a departure from the usual. She nodded, prompting him to unveil the truth, and in that anticipation, a foreboding shadow danced in the periphery.
"I…I am going to leave for a while," he finally confessed, and Suletta felt the color drain from her face, leaving her breathless.
"Me, Jack, and Oscar are heading into space. We are going to take our transport vessel along with our titans into space," he continued, and Suletta's gaze bore into him. "Why?" she questioned, but Aiden averted his eyes, shrouding his intentions in cryptic silence.
"I can't tell you," he admitted, and Suletta's frustration spilled into her repeated plea. "What? Why can't you?"
"Because, I…" He paused, stumbled over words as his teeth clamped together. "Suletta, I…we…we have something important to do."
"Deacon isn't going to come?" she probed, and Aiden's silent nod spoke volumes.
"Deacon can't stomach it," he whispered in frustration, his words escaping Suletta's notice. "Deacon is president; he has his place here. I am letting you know that tomorrow morning you and the rest aren't going to see me on campus. Miorine was able to convince a couple of my professors to excuse me for a bit, but I am not sure how long I am going to be gone for."
"Days?" Suletta inquired, but Aiden remained silent.
"It could be days, it could be weeks, or maybe…" He left the ominous possibilities hanging, and Suletta's eyes widened, locked onto him. His focus, however, was consumed by the specter of a dead world, overshadowing the living, breathing woman before him.
Suletta took a moment of silence, her thoughts weaving through the gravity of the revelation.
Yet, Aiden spoke, a promise in his voice. "I promise you, Suletta Mercury. I will be back, and we are going to experience snow together. Remember, the snow." His characteristic smirk returned, but it failed to lift Suletta's dejection. A nudge from his elbow only drew a vacant stare.
She rose from the seat, handing back his jacket. "Thank you, Aiden. I think I want to head back to my dorm now."
Aiden lifted his hand to speak, words forming but biting back. He knew this was different; their connection was unique. Friends didn't share the private conversations and intimate moments that defined Suletta and him. And now, he found himself concealing information, lying to her, grappling with the uncertainty of his destiny. Was this the time to tell her the truth, that he could be marching into his final battle? Maybe, but the uncertainty gnawed at him.
He let her walk away from it, let the lie linger in the air like an unspoken pact. Aiden, the jester, jesting long enough to coax a laugh out of Suletta, weaving an illusion of normalcy around them. Lies, the currency of their moment, masking the harsh reality that lay beneath. They could have spun a different yarn, told tales of a musical escapade, a new client poised to alter their fates.
But now, the extent of Oscar's injuries haunted him, a specter that lingered beyond the illusions.
Back at the door, Aiden shook his head, dispelling the heavy thoughts. It didn't matter now. He approached the imposing entrance, its steel plating a formidable barrier. Two mismatched bodyguards, symbols of Harmony's eclectic armor, stood guard.
"I wish to see him," Aiden declared.
The first bodyguard rose, eyeing Aiden with a measure of skepticism. "Fine then, a meeting between druids. Give him the clear, Ralph..."
"Ralph," the shorter bodyguard interjected. "Marko specifically ordered us not to let anyone into the room. The seer must..."
"Quiet," the first one interrupted. "Marko already radioed stating that he was in the clear. You did well on planetfall, Aiden Winters. I've heard good things from Lord Commander Marko about your past together. I wish to serve the legion as well as you once did."
With those parting words, the door creaked open, and Aiden stepped into the room. For such massive doors, the interior was unexpectedly modest, resembling a large master bedroom.
A fireplace crackled on one wall, casting flickering shadows. A double bed pressed against another, and a table and couch faced the fireplace. In the room's center, a figure sat, dark-haired and draped in heavy robes. Even beneath the fabric, the unnatural thinness of his arms was evident.
Aiden inhaled deeply and advanced.
The seer was already uttering cryptic words, a chilling blend of rhythmic poetry and the raspy harshness of a throat parched for water, weaving prophecy amid the cosmic vastness.
"A legion of horribles, hundreds in number..." the seer's voice echoed eerily, painting a vivid tapestry of grotesque figures clad in macabre attire, a carnival of horrors parading through the imagination.
Aiden's eyes drifted upward. The seer, perched over the couch, was oblivious to his presence. The eerie litany continued, an unbroken stream of macabre descriptions dancing among the stars, lost to the seer's entranced recitation.
Yet, as the seer continued his ominous prophecy, Aiden found the courage to interject, parting his lips to speak. His eyes met the gaze of the lost druid, challenging the eerie rhythm with his own voice.
"...death hilarious, all howling in a barbarous tongue and riding down upon them like a horde from a hell more horrible yet than the brimstone land of Christian reckoning, screeching and yammering and clothed in smoke like those vaporous beings in regions beyond right knowing where the eye wanders and the lip jerks and drools."
The words cut through the ethereal fog, capturing the seer's attention. He stared, surprised by Aiden's bold interruption.
"Hello, Aiden," the seer greeted, seemingly unperturbed. "I never knew you read Blood Meridian."
"Hello, Gerald," Aiden retorted. "It's been a long time."
"Time is merely a construct," Gerald dismissed with a snort.
Aiden smirked, standing over the seer. "So, if time is a construct, the last time we've seen each other was three to four years ago."
"Three to four years ago," Gerald echoed. "Honestly, Aiden. Past, present, and future...you've had visions before, you know how strangely they blend together."
"Sure," Aiden conceded, his gaze piercing Gerald. "What the hell was that? You were just listing off verses and stuff."
"Yet, isn't it true?" Gerald raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the closed door behind them. "You know that kid, the green boy, so green that he practically pisses grass."
"What of him?" Aiden sighed, rolling his eyes. Dealing with Gerald always required patience to sift through the cryptic musings.
Gerald raised a dirtied finger towards the door. "He is not of Harmony."
"Huh?" Aiden queried aimlessly.
"At least 2/3 of the legion, from what I've heard in our reports, is not from Harmony anymore," lectured Gerald.
Aiden stared, confusion etched on his face. "Wait, I don't... Are you saying that when we made planetfall, everyone we were fighting with were..."
His hand went to his features, realization setting in. "How many sons and daughters of Harmony are left?"
Gerald fixed him with a steady gaze, reminiscent of a parent looking upon a child. "Aiden, are you a fool? Our planet was destroyed, cast away, and..."
"...and," Aiden interrupted. "We've fought, and there were a good number of people that left."
"There were an even bigger amount that stayed," Gerald snarked. "Aiden, we're at war without a planet. You speak of the women, but they all died on Harmony. Now, those that survived the grueling training, survived the IMC Harmony war, and now fight the long war against the Benrett Group… Aiden, we've lost thousands in this war. Marko does not recruit Harmony stock; he drills in the same electronics that the militia put into us... and they are Sons of Harmony now."
Aiden winced at that revelation. Were they truly that few? He had known it was bad, but maybe there was always a small hope. And that hope was dashed aside.
"Did you stay for the sacking?" asked Gerald.
"Sacking? Wait, you mean that they raided down there!" snapped Aiden, slashing his hand through the air. "Those bastards! Marko specifically told us that..."
Gerald laughed loudly. "Funny, you believe that the same Marko we fought with all those years ago is still the same. No, Aiden, have you seen the stock that we have?" Gerald sneered, shaking his head, and Aiden glimpsed what he had next to him. Aiden's eyes furrowed. "Marko has been recruiting, and, Aiden, if you've thought that this was big... the whole legion assembled, it is a sight to see. Yet, they are no longer manned by the noble sons of a dead world."
Gerald let out a dry chuckle. "Hilarious. Before, we were in the right... we lost everything, and all we had was teachings of violence, so we did what we were taught. Yet, this new breed of Harmony does not understand what Harmony was, what it represented, and what we lost, Aiden. They were recruited from orphanages, juvenile detention centers, and I've even heard that some have been taken mid-transports to prisons. Marko is building an army of raiders, slavers, and rapists."
The words were cold and deliberate. Aiden stared down Gerald as he sighed and took a seat at the table. Gerald continued to fix his gaze upon him. "I don't know why you, in all your foolishness, would ever return. You do realize that when I die… Marko is coming for you."
Aiden was silent at that, drawing his gaze away. "I don't know why you're doing morphine again," snapped back Aiden, staring daggers. "I should beat the hell out of you. Maybe, beating you would give you an ounce of sense."
Gerald erupted into laughter in Aiden's face. "Oh, that's rich, Aiden Winters. You surely are a beacon of chivalry and hope. Speaking of which, are you still a tobacco, marijuana, drinking smoker?"
"Go screw yourself," Aiden retorted. "Stop imploding my stuff. You're doing morphine, what the hell is wrong with you!" He screamed. "Do you want to die, OD on this crazy shit? I would never have done anything like this to see into the future. Is it Marko that is making you do this?"
Yet, Gerald remained silent, slowly shaking his head. "Aiden, I am tired," he spoke quietly, drawing his gaze back towards the standing Aiden.
He continued, "We have been fighting an endless war without end, Aiden. My body is worn from all the drugs to see into the future, and what now. All I see is darkness and deep futures that shroud my vision."
Aiden watched as Gerald's fingers dug into his palm, drawing blood deeply. "That, Aiden, is why I destroy my body. You, druid, who promotes cleanliness and purity of the sight, but you are naturally gifted... I am not, and I see that, like the others, I will die."
Gerald's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. "Are we abominations, Aiden?" he prompted.
Aiden fell silent at that, sensing the weight of Gerald's words hanging in the air.
Gerald continued, his voice a low murmur, "When the scientists of Harmony cracked open our skulls and drilled electronics into our brains, why did we emerge differently, Aiden Winters? Were we created with this purpose, or did the sins of what they did to us... did it bleed into us? Did Harmony's corruption seep within our souls? Or were we possibly designed as we are… destined to be like this?"
Aiden paused, studying Gerald. "Does it matter?" he responded, prompting the question, and glimpsed a flicker within Gerald's eyes. "This is who we are now. So be it if we can utilize our third eyes to gain an advantage. We are human, and my flesh may be partially metal, but my heart still beats. We are just enhanced, something less than human, but also… something more." The words left Aiden's lips with a cold truth, acknowledging the irrevocable changes within him. Where did it all go wrong?
Gerald remained silent, gazing intently. He parted his dry lips, finally speaking, "You did not fully answer my question, but you are right. We are set upon this path, damned from the start…" He chuckled wryly. "There was nothing we could do, this was predetermined, like a vision. We all die, and I've seen our deaths a thousand times over and one."
Aiden sneered, his frustration evident. "The past is not set, the future is not written, there is no fate... not yet, at the very least, until we decide what it will be. Gerald, you can stop this!" he exclaimed, his voice resonating in the room as he confronted Gerald. "Don't do this. You can come with us, and Deacon will get you help. We'll get you in rehab, we'll enroll you in the academy, everything you need, Gerald. We'll help you."
For a brief moment, a flicker of a smile crossed Gerald's face. Yet, he slowly shook his head. "Too late for me, Aiden. But it's not too late for you. Within my visions, there are whispers and currents in times, there are so many futures, Aiden, littered with darknesses and terrors I wouldn't dare to name. We teeter on the edge of the worst conflict in human history, a conflict whose resolution may be the extinction of the human race."
An eerie silence settled, both men acknowledging that Gerald had witnessed it all within his mind's eye. Aiden stared at the floor, the weight of the revelation sinking in, and Gerald, no fool, had witnessed it too.
That flicker within Aiden's eyes at the word "extinction" did not go unnoticed by Gerald. He smiled, recognizing Aiden as one of the last of his kin—another druid, another seer, another prophet.
"You've seen it," Gerald spoke the words like an accusation, his smile fervent. Aiden remained silent, his gaze fixed forward. A lie hovered on his lips, but no words emerged. "You have, haven't you?" Gerald chuckled, finding a certain amusement in the shared burden.
"When I witnessed it," Gerald continued, "I was nearly catatonic for three hours. Slurring my speech, screaming in my sleep, banging my head on walls." His laughter echoed with a twisted sense of amusement. "How did it feel, Aiden Winters? Winters, how did the cold of space feel against your skin in those final moments? The air leaving your lungs, the bones breaking from the ruthless atmosphere of space rending you in two, but that was a mercy... for what was going to happen."
Aiden's fingers curled into two tight fists as Gerald continued his maniacal laughter, the echoes of madness filling the room. Aiden listened, unable to escape the vivid imagery painted by Gerald's words. "The look in her eyes as she knew that you lost, the look that you and the rest of the human race were subjected to a fate far worse than death. That the woman you loved so dearly, her blood eeking into the endless vacuum of space as you could only watch her limp corpse fade into the endless cosmos. Yet, she wasn't even there, her mind ripped from her, and now those oceanic eyes were gray, alike to the billions that lived within the universe. A monster that robbed her of her mind and soul but left flesh and blood. Yet, as the life fled from you, as you felt the same fate befall you…all that was left was quiet and mechanical zeros, a quiet zero that would end everything and anything, the perfect but misunderstood tool but truly a weapon…of chaos and a mass death that this universe has never seen before, and all that remained would be Ericht and the slow death…of her Quiet Zero."
Aiden had listened with wide eyes, haunted by the shared visions. He stared at Gerald, the brother he had fought beside, now lost to the clutches of drugs and prophecy. Gerald's silence spoke of contemplation. "I do not blame you, Aiden Winters, for leaving us and the legion behind. Tell Deacon that our fate would not have changed if he stayed. Knowing the young commander, he shall blame himself for our cursed fate."
Aiden remained silent for a moment, then nodded. "Leave," he spoke, urgency in his voice. "There is still time… discard your loyalties to Marko and come with us."
Gerald's laughter echoed loudly, resonating in the expanse. "Maybe, maybe there was a time when my future was not so set in motion, but now all roads lead to here," he sighed. "Before, we were so in the right, but now the legion is gone. Filled with a new breed that does not know the beauty of Harmony, but rather the lessons of violence. Always lessons of violence teaching the wrong lessons…even you, Aiden Winters. You believe that violence gave you strength, that it gave you the power you needed to save those close to you. But a life of war is no life at all."
Aiden remained silent as Gerald continued, "I fought, I lost, and now…I and my soul shall rest, that is a mercy compared to the great darkness that is coming. But you, Aiden Winters, you shall be the last of the druids. Marko shall come for you when I die, General Winters. And you'll be fighting this long war for the rest of your life…and trust me, in the future there are fates far worse than death out there. A suffering that shall last forever if the machine god is anointed in place. I leave you with this, Druid of Harmony. I have seen hundreds of futures in which you have ascended to new heights, and some in which your body lay along a broken battlefield…as the dying suns cast their light against the dying human race…"
Gerald sighed, tears slipping down his face. "There is not much time, Aiden. But I ask you this, how do you wish to be remembered?" The question sparked a flare in Aiden's eyes. "What legacy shall you and the sons of Harmony leave behind, what legacy shall be eternally tied to you and your brothers' actions? Aiden the soldier, Aiden the druid, Aiden the musician… or maybe," Gerald's eyes hinted at events even Aiden had not seen yet, "possibly, a father…"
Within those words, Gerald glimpsed Ericht—a young girl with rich locks of black hair, adorned in an old flightsuit resembling old Harmony. The deep azure eyes mirrored those of her mother, but Gerald did not speak of such things.
Aiden sneered at the notion of being a father. What the hell was Gerald on about? "I leave you with this," Aiden spoke bluntly, and Gerald tilted his head to meet his gaze. "The future is not set in stone, and I've received visions before that were just as worse or less. There is no future, there is no fate. There will come a time…and I will make the right decision, and I will choose the future I wish for it to be. Goodbye, Gerald."
Aiden turned around and walked out. There was no point in doing this anymore, wanting to speak to one of the last druids, now reduced to a morphine addict.
"Aiden," Gerald called out. "Beware the traitor!" he warned.
Aiden paused and turned on his heel. "What did you say?"
"Beware the traitor," Gerald responded. "Keep your secrets tight to your mind, keep your guns next to your thigh, and keep your titan close by your side. Druid, brother, soldier…there is a great war coming, and I see you at the center of that tempest."
Aiden paused, nodding. "Thank you, Gerald," he said before leaving. "Goodbye, old friend." With those words, he closed the door behind them.
Gerald was now alone, staring into the embers of darkness as he still heard the screams. Even now, after all this time, he could remember the fires and the screams. Oh, how they would never leave him.
"Oh, the horror," Gerald spoke to himself, grasping the morphine next to him. He eyed the pale contents along the starlight as the needle slightly leaked some of the fluid.
Before, they were similar…but now, Gerald understood the strength of Aiden. Aiden was not consumed by prophecy; he would define his own destiny. Before, as a little boy, Gerald could remember his mother soothing him as he got a shot from a doctor.
Before, he was afraid of needles…but now, he cried and stared into it, for now, he viewed the needle as his only salvation. A death of overdose would be a mercy compared to what was going to happen in the future. The machine god was waiting for him, and he'd be damned to give his soul and be damned.
He had lived long enough. Maybe, that was enough…he was tired, and he wanted to see them again. His family, his home, his brothers. He wasn't afraid of dying, yet, he was afraid of dying from whatever remained in that dark future.
Gerald stared at the contents, tears seeping from his eyes as he spoke his final words: "Oh, the horror."