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The sun had vanished beyond the horizon, leaving the academy enveloped in darkness. The artificial lights had faded, surrendering to the flickering lanterns that cast a feeble glow. But amidst the shadows, the stars emerged, casting their ethereal light upon the world.
The inky depths of the night mirrored Aidan's own eyes, a deep azure that had always exuded confidence. Yet, in these uncertain times, that confidence had waned. Change was on the horizon, and Aidan could feel it creeping closer.
Stripped down to his underwear, Aidan immersed himself in the flowing currents of the river. Among the artificial habitats of the academy, this was his sanctuary—the largest body of water within the station. Here, he could swim freely, connecting with the aquatic world that thrived beneath the surface.
As he floated silently in the depths, Aidan's gaze pierced through the murky waters, searching for glimpses of life. The ocean currents embraced him, their ebb and flow lulling him into a state of tranquility. In this simplicity and silence, he found solace—a respite from the chaos of his thoughts.
His eyes shifted downward, observing the darkness below. With one leg kicking to maintain buoyancy and the other, his bionic limb, shimmering in the water, Aidan contemplated the enigmatic nature of these "ghost limbs." They provided functionality, but the absence of sensation reminded him of the reality he had to accept.
Suddenly, Aidan's focus was disrupted as he spotted a school of fish gliding past him. His gaze snapped upward, instinctively knowing who would be waiting for him. Kicking with determination, he propelled himself towards the surface, breaking free from the water's embrace. There, atop a boat, stood Deacon, steering with an intensity that matched his stern features.
Aidan floated in the river, water dripping from his form, as a small light attached to the boat illuminated their faces. Deacon's hardened expression revealed restrained anger, and Aidan understood he couldn't escape the repercussions of his actions.
"May I come in?" Aidan asked, his voice filled with a mix of defiance and curiosity.
Deacon nodded, granting him permission without uttering a word.
"So, you're not in the mood for conversation," Aidan remarked, his hands gripping the wooden edge of the boat. He hoisted himself up, causing the boat to groan under the strain.
Taking a seat at the opposite end of the boat, directly facing Deacon, Aidan observed the striking contrast between them. The president exuded annoyance and suppressed rage, his countenance resembling chiseled stone. Meanwhile, Aidan, soaked from his unauthorized swim in the river and clad only in his underwear, wore a brazen defiance.
Deacon's face contorted into a sneer as he hurled the towel at Aidan, a little too forcefully. It struck Aidan square in the face, momentarily obscuring his features. Aidan took it in his hands and began drying the water from his face, muttering, "That hurt."
Deacon groaned, his anger barely contained. He wrapped his arms around himself, his gaze fixed on Aidan. His narrowed eyes and clenched fists betrayed his simmering rage. "I bet Guel felt the same way, just before you beat the living daylights out of him," Deacon spat.
Aidan shrugged, displaying a nonchalant indifference that caught Deacon off guard. The sudden lack of concern widened Deacon's eyes. "You don't care, is that it?" Deacon snapped.
With his arms stretched wide, Aidan stared back at Deacon, a malicious smirk playing across his face. "Come and see, everyone!" he bellowed, his voice echoing into the vastness. "Aidan Winters, once a revered militia pilot, now an ace at one of the most prestigious schools in the Milky Way. Witness how he conducts himself!" Aidan taunted.
Aidan's gaze remained fixed on the floor, the towel draped around his shoulders as he rested his hands on his knees.
Deacon rose, causing the boat to sway slightly, as he loomed over Aidan. He pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You only think about yourself!" Deacon seethed.
Clenching his fist, Deacon extended his fingers one by one, ticking off his grievances. "You threw a tantrum when I told you we wouldn't recover the relics!" he accused.
Aidan winced at the reminder. "We made a pact, Deacon," he shot back. "We swore to recover the remnants of our past. It was a blood oath, a solemn commitment..."
"To hell with the oath!" Deacon interrupted, slapping his palm against his face in frustration. "Our lives matter more than anything, don't you see?" he shouted.
He waved his hands wildly, his body trembling with rage. "We are the children of harmony, the last descendants. Our world is gone, and we are all that remains. We can't sacrifice ourselves for... damn war relics!"
Aidan shook his head, his voice resolute. "You don't understand," he snapped back. "I haven't forgotten about harmony." His words hung in the air, silencing Deacon.
Yet, Deacon cocked his head to the side. "Do you think I've forgotten?" he questioned, his features contorted with anger. "Do you think you're alone in your convictions?"
His fists clenched, his gaze narrowing. "I fought in those very same battles. During and after the war. I led the warband, fought the long war. But you know why we stopped, Aidan."
Aidan sneered, his words dripping with disdain. "You gave up," he spat.
"Gave up?" Deacon echoed, incredulous. "Are you even listening to yourself?"
He threw his arms out again, frustration seeping through his voice. "Look around you, Aidan!" he snapped. "We lost!" Deacon paused, his voice growing quieter as his arms reluctantly fell to his sides. "The war is over."
The words caused Aidan's eyes to widen with a mix of bloodlust and rage. "It will never be over!"
Aidan shot up from his seat, his voice booming with an echo that sent Deacon stumbling back in shock, almost toppling into the river. "It will never be over... not until we have our revenge, until we make them pay for what they did to Harmony... what they did to us... what they did to me!"
Deacon could only stare, regaining his balance. His breath heavy as both boys locked eyes, their breathing ragged and hearts pounding heavily in their chests.
"You couldn't even control it, Aidan," Deacon retorted. He reached for his device, the light from the student notebook casting a revealing glow on Aidan's face. He glanced at it briefly, then turned away, his hands covering his face as he sank back down onto the seat. Deacon tucked his device back into his pocket.
Hours ago, after their fight, a notification had ignited a buzz across everyone's devices, now the talk of the school. Aidan had sought solace in a place he believed no one would find him, a place to contemplate his next move. But Deacon knew him.
On one side of the picture was Guel, and on the other, Aidan's sly smirk. Two photos announcing their upcoming duel. Guel had challenged him, and at the academy, a dueling challenge couldn't be refused. Both were aces—Guel as the holder, but Aidan with his experience and status as the ace of his house. It made for an intriguing battle. They had never fought before, but now, after Aidan's recent exploits with the bugs, an electric anticipation infused the once-quiet campus.
"Why did you provoke Guel?" Deacon spoke, running his hands through his hair.
"I just told you to talk to Miorine," he raised his voice. "How did you end up in a fight with one of the most influential people in this school?" Aidan's voice echoed with frustration.
Deacon felt a surge of anger, his eyes widening as his heart pounded in his chest, his grip tightening on his own hair. "Guel can demand anything in that duel. The destruction of Harmony House, our expulsion from the school, it could damn well bankrupt us!"
"Can't you set aside your hatred for these corporations for one day?" Deacon winced. "Did your hate run that deep, that you..."
"No," Aidan interjected, his voice breaking with a vulnerability that caught Deacon off guard. And to his astonishment, tears trickled down Aidan's face, eroding the facade of bravado, revealing the true depth of his emotions. "I tried, Deacon. I spoke to Miorine, and I..."
He trailed off, shaking his head. "I hated him, Deacon," Aidan confessed, his words dripping with raw honesty. "I won't lie. I entertained the thought of provoking him. But Miorine was kind to me, and even when Guel unleashed his rampage..."
Aidan paused again, his fingers balling into clenched fists, the mechanical hiss of his false arm serving as an audible reminder of his inner turmoil. "Even when he started breaking and destroying everything in his damn tantrum, I managed to keep my composure," he continued. In his mind's eye, he saw Suletta Mercury, the girl from earlier. Aidan lifted his gaze to meet Deacon's, who now wore a sigh of understanding.
"I thought he was going to harm Suletta," Aidan said, his voice laced with determination. "I couldn't let that happen. I won't allow anyone to lay a finger on her, hurt her, or..."
"Whoa," Deacon interjected, raising both hands in a gesture of caution. He leaned back, now calmer but still visibly stressed, along the edge of the boat. "Suletta, that's the girl Oscar was talking about. Wait, why were you defending her?"
Aidan winced at the question, but Deacon pressed on.
"Aidan, I know there are things you're keeping from me. We all have our secrets, especially after what we've been through. But there's something strange between you and this girl. You haven't been the same since she appeared, and I need to understand what's going on with you. We're friends, and you can trust me."
Aidan paused, his gaze locking with Deacon's. Their eyes connected, and Aidan could recall all those moments when he teetered on the precipice between life and death, with Deacon steadfastly by his side. A leader, an ally, and a friend—a true brother who genuinely cared for him. Aidan took a deep breath before responding.
"She saved my life," Aidan revealed, and a flicker of comprehension crossed Deacon's face as he began to grasp the magnitude of Aidan's words. "Three years ago, she saved my life. First, when I was getting my ass handed to me by a lone Gundam. And then, when I was in the hospital."
Deacon shrugged, his confusion evident. "I don't understand," he admitted. "She's a pilot," he pondered aloud. But then realization dawned on him in the next moment. "Is she from Harmony?"
"No," Aidan shook his head.
"Then how did she end up with you? Is she part of the IMC or a mercenary or something like that?"
"No," Aidan repeated, his gaze dropping to the floor. He took a moment, his breath growing heavy as the words became more difficult to utter. "She didn't save me physically," he confessed. "I saw her... in one of my visions."
A heavy silence enveloped the two friends. Deacon stared at Aidan, his mind racing to grasp the magnitude of what he had just heard. "Your visions," he murmured, his eyes widening as the realization dawned upon him. "Have you had..."
"No," Aidan interrupted, his voice tinged with weariness. "The last one was months ago, back when Danny was still with us."
Deacon nodded, trying to process this newfound information. "So, you had a vision that this girl would save you or something?"
Aidan sighed, a sense of sadness and vulnerability washing over him. He had kept this secret to himself, hesitant to share it, unsure if anyone would understand or perhaps even judge him. After all, he was the ace. But Deacon deserved an explanation... he deserved to know.
"Three years ago, we were fighting in the colonies of the frontier," Aidan began, his voice carrying the weight of bitter memories. "I found myself in the ruins of a desolate city, a place ravaged by bombings when the IMC arrived." He sighed, the haunting scent of smoke and the echoes of laser fire still lingering in his mind. Those memories would forever be etched upon his soul. "The IMC was ruthlessly targeting both civilian and military crafts. So, we decided to create a diversion. My squad and several others destroyed their artillery, allowing others to escape."
Deacon listened, his eyes fixed on Aidan, absorbing the tale without interruption, simply offering silent understanding.
Aidan sighed, his gaze shifting toward his bionic arm. "During the battle, my arm suffered severe burns from a scorch unit. The morphine in my Titan's med capsule dulled the pain, but I started losing sensation in it. I got grazed on the leg, didn't think it was too serious at first," he said, his fist softly thudding against the metal surface. "Look at me now," he chuckled, and for a moment, Deacon couldn't help but release a silent laugh.
"You kept fighting, pushing forward," Deacon remarked.
"Don't know why," Aidan retorted, his response devoid of anger. Weariness seeped through his words. "Pure hatred and sheer determination fueled my movements. I killed countless enemies, but my squad was decimated. And then, out of nowhere, a Gundam appeared. Even with my psychic potential back then... it wasn't enough."
Aidan could still vividly recall that moment, as if it had happened yesterday. The emotions and sensations from years ago remained eternally etched in his mind, memories he couldn't escape or fully let go of. Sure, drinking and smoking helped to numb the pain, but when would it end? Would it ever end?
Must he live with this torment, agonizing over the past until the day he died?
"I've heard rumors that we might experience... visions," Aidan spoke the word cautiously, fully aware of its weight. "But back then, I didn't comprehend it. I thought I was simply dying. And then I heard her voice, those words of strength... they kept me going."
He raised his gaze to meet Deacon's. "That thing I always say," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "It came from that girl's lips."
His gaze swept across the murky river, the darkness swallowing the surroundings, while Aidan clutched the towel tightly around himself. His eyes fixated on the fading embers of the artificial sun, their dim glow casting eerie shadows. "I was staring death in the face," he whispered, his words barely audible. "I closed my eyes, fully accepting the grim fate that awaited me." He turned his attention to Deacon, the only witness to his confession, silent but attentive. "I was just a fourteen-year-old boy, and yet, there she was, by my side... that girl. Unaware of the profound impact she had on me. In those final moments, her kindness bestowed upon me a sense of tranquility."
Deacon remained silent, absorbing the weight of Aidan's words. He, too, had faced his fair share of close encounters with death, but Aidan's experiences were etched upon his very being—a fusion of flesh and metal, a person forged in the crucible of hardship and hatred. And yet, that girl had sparked a glimmer of something within Aidan, a light that Deacon could now discern.
Still, confusion gripped Deacon's mind. "But why did you keep your distance from her?" he inquired, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity. "Aidan, your behavior earlier today suggested that you were afraid of her. I understand what you're telling me, but the way you acted made it seem like she was some kind of rival or a person associated with a painful past. I want to understand, but..."
Aidan's eyes hardened, locking onto Deacon's with an icy, unwavering stare. Raising his mechanical finger, he pointed it directly at his president. "You better promise me that you won't breathe a word of this to anyone," he warned, his voice laced with intensity. "Got it?" he added, emphasizing his demand.
Deacon nodded, acknowledging the seriousness of the situation, as Aidan took a moment to prepare himself mentally for what lay ahead.
"After I was rescued from the ruins of that titan," Aidan began, his voice tinged with bitterness, "Harmony was obliterated, and the IMC and Spacian corporations declared victory in the war. We were just kids, and they thought we were wrong, that the militia was in the wrong. So, they..."
Deacon interjected, completing Aidan's thought. "They did all those things, right? The free education, the rehabilitation, and..."
Aidan sneered, his expression reflecting the lingering pain. "Yeah, after they nuked our home and incinerated our families. Real nice," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Deacon nodded in understanding, encouraging Aidan to continue his account.
"I was in a hospital, probably somewhere deep within the sectors controlled by the IMC, and they were patching me up," Aidan sighed, the weight of his memories bearing down on him. "I was in and out of consciousness, and the doctor informed me that I needed prosthetic limbs and such."
Deacon's gaze met Aidan's, and Aidan sighed once more, his thoughts drifting toward the palm of his bionic hand, his artificial blue eye—the machines that allowed him to function, but were not his own. His narrowed eyes fixated on them. "The doctor said it was a risky surgery," Aidan continued, waving his hand dismissively. "They needed a patient who could endure the excruciating pain, and with my already severe injuries, there was a high chance I wouldn't make it."
"So," Deacon interjected, "you went through with it and survived. I don't see the issue. You're a survivor, Aidan, you made it through and..."
"You needed someone who was willing to fight for their life," Aidan interjected, his voice cutting through the air. His eyes locked with Deacon's, his heart pounding in his chest. "My entire world was reduced to ashes. My mother, my father, everything I fought for—it was all gone," he said, his gaze piercing. "I wanted to die, Deacon. I didn't care whether I lived or died..."
Deacon fell silent, tears welling up in his eyes. He had grappled with his own version of this despair, as had all of them who survived the horrors of war. It haunted grown men and child soldiers alike. What was the purpose? Why were they still here? Why did they deserve to live when so many others had perished? The questions echoed in the depths of their souls, searching for answers that seemed perpetually out of reach.
Aidan released a weary sigh, his voice carrying a tinge of resignation. "During the surgery, something strange happened, something I still can't fully comprehend," he confessed, his gaze shifting to the enchanting tapestry of stars that adorned the vast expanse of the universe. "When I regained consciousness, I was screaming inside my head, Deacon," he continued, a wistful smile gracing his lips. "But it wasn't a dream or a nightmare—it was a vision. A vision so breathtaking, so vivid, that it felt more real than the conversation we're having right now."
He turned his gaze back to his friend, finding solace in Deacon's understanding presence. With a swift flick of his hand, Aidan gestured emphatically. "I can't pinpoint when or where these visions will occur. They've been sporadic and sometimes metaphorical, not tethered to the physical realm. But this one felt different. We found ourselves on the edge of the universe," he explained.
"The edge of the universe?" Deacon echoed, his brows furrowing in confusion.
Aidan shook his head, dismissing his previous choice of words. "No, that's not quite it," he pondered, reassessing his description. "We were in an expansive space, surrounded by stars, but there was also a floor beneath us. Metaphorical or partially grounded, you know how these visions can be."
Deacon nodded, urging Aidan to continue his account.
"She was by my side, just as she appears now, but her expression held a confident smile—a genuine happiness, not a guarded smirk," Aidan reminisced, a gentle smile adorning his features as he relived the memory. Yet, his countenance shifted, a somberness washing over him as he met Deacon's gaze. "I always knew that the fight against the IMC and the corporations would span years. A war waged by the sons of a dead world. And I knew that if I wanted to achieve victory and exact my revenge, I would have to wage it alone."
Pausing, Aidan locked eyes with Deacon, his gaze both content and piercing, as if peering into the depths of his soul. "As I looked upon her, I realized she was a beautiful girl—a smile that filled me with love and happiness," he continued, his voice hushed. "And then, the smile reached me, accompanied by a wave of warmth that coursed through my body. That face stayed with me, Deacon. A face that was strange, yet familiar," he added, his hands resting in his lap as he stared at them. "Deep within, I knew she was both salvation and destruction, a perfect juxtaposition."
With an intense gaze, Aidan focused on Deacon, his eyes narrowing as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet his friend's once again. All Deacon could do was listen, captivated by the words of a seer who glimpsed into the future.
"She paused, gazing up at me with that infectious smile. I drew her closer, my hands locking around her elbows, feeling the touch of her skin, the texture of the fabric," Aidan's words dripped with a pure, heartfelt smile—nothing akin to the cunning smirk or bloodthirsty grin he reserved for Guel. This was the smile of a boy enraptured by the girl he loved. "I knew that when I kissed her, she would be my destruction."
He paused, his eyes drawn to the eternal twilight once more, and Deacon could only watch as his friend relived those moments with an adoring smile. "I hesitated, waited for a fleeting moment," Aidan confessed, his voice filled with knowing. "And I knew, Deacon. I knew that when it happened... the destruction would be absolute, obliterating the very essence of who I am. It's a terrifying thing, you know, to be annihilated on such a profound level—whether in the realm of the self or in physicality. It's a true kiss of death."
Aidan smirked at his own words, a faint chuckle escaping him as he witnessed a shooting star streak across the cosmic expanse. "Little did I realize that falling for that enigmatic girl from Mercury, falling for her would alter the course of my destiny," he mused, his gaze shifting to the water, his hand twisting into a clenched fist as his eyes closed, relishing in the memory. His heart raced within his chest as he could vividly recall her—the sensation of Suletta within his embrace, the intensity of their connection as they leaned into each other, foreheads touching, lips parting to meet in a passionate union.
Turning his gaze back to Deacon, Aidan's smile spoke volumes. "And then I simply plummeted," he declared, his voice filled with a mix of exhilaration and vulnerability.
He reveled in the recollection of her touch, the way her dress caressed his skin, the secrets hidden beneath the fabric, and the marks they left upon each other. The kisses bestowed upon unexplored territories, the fervent lustful embrace that carried them to new heights. It was a dance of trust, an intimacy that forged a powerful bond in a moment destined to unfold in the distant future.
But Aidan kept that part of the story to himself, locking eyes with his friend, the smile never fading. "She bloomed before me like a radiant flower, completing the incantation that sealed my fate. Suletta shattered me, dismantled the man I once was," he confessed, his hand splayed across his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken.
Deacon was stunned, and for a long moment, the only sound that filled the boat was the gentle motion of the water. Then Aidan, after a pause, resumed his narrative.
"I survived the surgery, but it was Suletta who gave me the strength, just as she did when I battled that gundam," Aidan revealed, the memory of his anguish still fresh in his mind. "I awoke the following day, screaming, crying inconsolably. That feeling has never left me. I knew there was an extraordinary love waiting for me amidst this vast galaxy... and it saddened me, not being able to explain it, because it was uniquely mine. I believed no one else could comprehend its magnitude."
Deacon stared, absorbing the weight of this revelation. All those years, all those shared experiences, and this was what Aidan had been grappling with. A love so potent that it transcended the confines of time and space. A love that he was certain would be his undoing, an affection that would culminate in his demise.
Slowly, the significance of it all began to dawn on Deacon. His own eyes widened, taking in the expanse of stars that adorned their celestial universe. He contemplated the wonder and love Aidan must have felt for this girl, the realization that came after losing everything—the determination to fight for a future worth embracing.
He had traversed a vast expanse, overcome numerous obstacles, and now his dream seemed within reach. But Aidan Winters couldn't shake the unsettling truth that lay before him—this girl spelled destruction. Yet, he had been blind to just how closely intertwined their fates had become, and Deacon sensed that she would never leave.
Aidan Winters, a man captivated by the allure and radiance of Suletta Mercury, believed in a future laden with love, annihilation, and the enigmatic. It was a risk he was willing to take, even after losing everything he held dear.
That scatterbrained girl from Mercury, oblivious to the true identity of Aidan Winters—the ace of the militia, a formidable force known as the Sons of Harmony—had no inkling that she had saved him from the depths of despair three years ago. And in that moment, a smile graced Deacon's face.
"Thank you, Suletta, for rescuing my friend and granting him the strength he so desperately needed," he whispered. The quiet lights engulfed them, leaving nothing but the resplendence of the stars.