Author Note/Please read it's important. Review response below: Been a while since I could actually respond to reviews and actually speak about this fic. Sorry for the long wait, classes, work, etc. This is a two parter for the Award Ceremony and Gund-ARM segments of the anime. I was actually rewatching the episode and I am just quite surprised by just how good of an anime it was appearing to be. It had intrigue going for it, but sadly it was just rushed...maybe that's another reason why I wrote this fic. Because I saw a lot of good ideas, but they were never really pushed. What would happen if there was a male lead in Witch from Mercury? Other houses? Other characters with motivations? While Witch does have these things, i was greatly disatsifed by Guel's character and other characters/story beats. One of the reviewers on brought up why Laude even inherited the Schwartteze? To me it's a writing error, a subject of rushness, heck even the design strangly is reminscent of Guel, and feels like he should've been the pilot. Like how Amuro's Ray's colors could sometimes match the Gundam of the old UC anime. The Schwarette is white and purple, and what is Guel's notable trait...his purple dyed hair. It felt flat when Laude went in his rage, it felt flat when he immediatly started to attack Miorine and the rest, and it felt flat when he piloted it..
The creepy Elan clone turning passive, the Ceres coming back from the dead, heck...I can't be the only one who was confused about what Quiet Zero was? I needed to go on the internet to find that out. And heck, I wanted to do a more horror spin on it. As I write these, I want people to understand that how I am not shitting on the show. And while I do change things for the Fic, this is to take into account the canonical divergences that have been brought up. This isn't a wattpad Y/N fic, if Aiden fucks up like how he did in Chapter 5 in fighting Guel...you'll best be assured that I am trying to carve a plot that is both drama packed, adventure packed, politcal, dramatic...romance.
Okay, now here is the second part of the author note. On wattpad, we have had a little vote about the romance and pairings within the fic. While I like Suletta and Aiden, I am offering up people's opinions/vote on if Suletta x Aiden should be the endgame like planned before...or something that I am labeling. "The Zion Route." This is the route that Aiden, Suletta, and Miorine would be the main pairing. Listen, you've all been reading my writing for a long time now, and you know what I can do. I am confident that I can write Aiden x Suletta and Miorine and make it an engaging plot that may very well rival the old pairing from before. However, I also understand how others may not want this. Leave a review/comment with your vote. I won't promise anything, but I'll take everyone's votes and thoughts into consideration.
Here is the vote on Wattpad:
Aiden x Suletta - 0
Aiden x Miorine - 0
Aiden x Suletta and Miorine - 6
Best Regards,
The Author
Reviews
SixSpartain: I appreciate you and your comments! Knowing that someone binged my work makes me really happy. I don't know much about Gundam that isn't really in Universal Century. But I've got something instore for Aiden and the rest of the Harmony guys! I hope you enjoy and I hope you like this chapter!
IHeartMecha: Woah another guy that binged my fic! Thanks for all the compliments and I can't believe that everyone really just likes this story! It makes me want to work harder and reach that finish line. And as well for the Witch from Mercury comment, if you read my author's note, you'll realize just how I feel about Witch lol. Still, thanks for your kind words and have a great day! I hope you enjoy!
TheEmeraldMage: Yeah, one of the most glaring issues...was the Schwarrte. It was a cool ass looking Gundam that they tossed into a random side character with not enough development, and like in my author's note. I honestly believe that the plan across the board was giving it to Guel, but just due to constraints and rushing it made it's hands into Laude. I get what you mean when you talk about Marty, and hopefully the next coming chapters show the rest of them off. I know Marty seems bad, but in comparision to the other members of the legion...they are so much worse. In one of these chapters I have planned for Aiden, Suletta, and the rest to actually encounter them in space. So, that one is going to be an interesting one to write. Still, thanks for your constant reviews. They are always worth the read and held me get the grinds going for this story. Let's reach that finish line together, friend.
CJBoughton: That is going to be reveled later! Still, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 32
Aiden
Aiden drifted in the liminal space between sleep and wakefulness, where dreams danced like specters beneath the star-strewn sky of his subconscious. Amidst the cosmic currents of his mind, he found himself ensnared in a harrowing vision—a battleground of colossal machines locked in a deadly dance, their metallic frames silhouetted against a backdrop of fallen comrades. But it was their helmets, adorned with blazing monocular eyes, that filled him with a primal dread, their fiery gaze threatening to consume him whole.
"Winters!" The urgent cry shattered the fragile veil of slumber.
Aiden's cerulean eyes snapped open, the remnants of his nightmare clinging to the edges of his consciousness. "Just a dream," he murmured, his voice tinged with lingering unease, before turning his attention to Miorine. She toiled diligently in her sanctuary, the Harmony Marigolds sprawled across her desk like a tapestry of life.
"How are they looking?" Aiden inquired, his concern etched upon his features.
Miorine hesitated, her response laced with a subtle tension. "They're healthy," she replied curtly, her gaze fixed on her work.
Undeterred, Aiden pressed on, his eyes scanning the verdant expanse of the greenhouse. Memories of days spent tending to its fertile soil flooded his mind, mingling with a pang of guilt that gnawed at his conscience. Miorine had grown distant, her once warm demeanor now veiled behind a shield of reticence. Perhaps, he mused, it was their past transgressions that lingered between them like an invisible barrier.
Summoning his resolve, Aiden broached the subject with cautious optimism. "Hey, Miorine," he began, his tone gentle yet firm. "I wanted to say... after dinner, the guys and I are heading back to the manor. You're welcome to join us."
Miorine hesitated, her response laced with uncertainty. But as she turned back to her work, Aiden sensed the weight of unspoken truths hanging in the air. "I've got classes early in the morning," she offered, her words ringing hollow.
Disappointed yet undeterred, Aiden cast a fleeting glance towards the heavens. Then, a spark of inspiration ignited within him, illuminating a path forward. "Suletta will be there," he added with a hopeful smile, his gesture a silent invitation to bridge the chasm between them.
Miorine paused, her fingers still clutching the soil-stained edges of her workbench, as Aiden's words hung heavy in the air like the first rumblings of an impending storm. "Miorine, Suletta is real glad that you invited me and her to come with... but she misses having you around," Aiden's voice was a low murmur, laden with unspoken truths.
Her eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before giving way to a surge of indignation. "I didn't steal her," Miorine's retort was sharp, her tone slicing through the tension like a knife through butter.
"Steal her?" Aiden's voice carried a note of confusion, his brows furrowing in response. "I didn't steal her away from you... you're the one who got..."
Miorine turned abruptly, her movements jerky and abrupt, as if trying to escape the weight of their conversation. "Distant," she interjected, her words heavy with emotion. "It feels pretty difficult to be the third wheel when..."
"You're not a third wheel," Aiden's response was swift, his words filled with earnest sincerity. "We love having you around... especially Suletta."
Miorine's gaze bore into him, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Her hands, caked with soil, trembled slightly as they tightened around the edges of her workbench, her silver eyes fixed on him with unwavering intensity.
Aiden's thoughts drifted back to a time long past, to the tangled web of emotions and obligations that had once bound them together. Memories of Guel, a distant figure lurking in the shadows of his consciousness, resurfaced with a pang of resentment. But amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, one truth remained clear: he owed Miorine a debt that could never be repaid.
The sound of approaching footsteps shattered the fragile calm of the greenhouse, and Aiden's attention snapped back to the present moment. Suletta's cheerful voice rang out, her presence injecting a burst of energy into the somber atmosphere.
As Aiden's gaze met Suletta's radiant smile, he felt a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty that clouded his mind. Miorine's tense demeanor softened, replaced by a quiet resolve.
"So, who's coming to dinner with you, Winters?" Miorine's question cut through the silence, her eyes fixed on him with a mixture of expectation and defiance.
Aiden's lips curved into a wry smile, a sense of relief washing over him. "I guess... both of you?" he offered tentatively, the weight of his words hanging in the air like the promise of a new beginning.
Ensign Marty
"He died with honor... how the fuck is his thirteen-year-old daughter going to read that and feel good about herself!" The words erupted from Marty's lips like a crackling fire, his frustration palpable as he hurled his pen across the room. The pen snapped in half, a small casualty in the storm brewing within him. Travis, roused from his slumber, blinked groggily, confusion etched on his features as he shifted on his bunk.
"What the hell, Marty?" Travis's voice cut through the tense silence, his breath hitching as he struggled to grasp the situation unfolding before him. Marty sat with his head buried in his hands, his gaze fixed on the infinite expanse of stars outside the window, a silent witness to their turmoil.
"Well..." Travis began tentatively, his voice trailing off as he adjusted his pillow and blankets, seeking refuge in the familiar comfort of his bunk. "You've had fourteen days to write this letter. At this rate with the ship, you'll have another fourteen more."
Marty ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. He retrieved his glasses from the nearby surface and perched them on his nose, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him like a leaden cloak.
"Where are you going, Commander?" Travis's question hung in the air, laced with a hint of annoyance at the title bestowed upon Marty.
"Well, Ensign," Marty retorted, a touch of sarcasm coloring his tone as he reclaimed Travis's own rank in jest. "I am going to see if I can get a bite to eat. I need to get out of here, the room is stuffy."
With a purposeful stride, Marty made his exit, the door closing behind him with a finality that silenced Travis's protests.
He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. And heard the sound of Travis yelling behind him. "The whole fucking ship is stuffy!"
As he navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the ship, he couldn't shake the feeling of confinement that seemed to permeate every corner.
The steel walls loomed overhead, their cold embrace a stark reminder of the fragile existence they inhabited. Marty brushed a hand through his dark curls, his gaze sweeping over the other occupants of the ship as they went about their routines.
He exchanged nods with fellow crew members, a silent acknowledgment of their shared burden. But amidst the semblance of camaraderie, Marty couldn't help but recoil in disgust as he caught sight of a crew member engaging in a private act with brazen disregard for decorum.
"Not dealing with that one right now," Marty muttered to himself, quickening his pace as he made his way to the mess hall. The scene that greeted him was chaotic, a cacophony of shouts and flying food as two factions clashed in a frenzied melee.
"What the fuck is going on here!" Marty's voice thundered through the chaos, commanding attention as he demanded an explanation for the pandemonium unfolding before him. The mess hall had become a battleground, the Earthian girls and Wilkerson pitted against the survivors of squad 4 in a food fight turned violent.
Chaos reigned in the mess hall, a symphony of screams and shouts echoing off the metallic walls as food flew through the air like missiles. Three soldiers lay sprawled on the floor, their forms twisted in agony amidst the tumult.
"You will cease this insolence immediately! Or you will all suffer consequences!" The words cut through the chaos like a knife, spoken with authority by a figure towering above the fray.
"En... Commander!" Wilkerson corrected himself, his voice strained with urgency. "They've started it. They've started it with..."
The Ensign's hand moved with precision, cocking the hammer of his wingman and raising it into the air before firing. The deafening blast reverberated through the mess hall, silencing the tumult as hands instinctively went to cover ears.
"John Davey, drop the food you've been chucking," the Commander's voice cut through the ringing silence, authoritative and commanding. "And radio the rest of the ship that the shot was made by the Ensign to successfully stop the riot. Secondly, radio Travis to get the security guard of the ship to personally escort you all to the brig... do I make myself clear?"
John Davey trembled as he made his way to the radio, his hands shaking with fear. "You three... Wilkerson, you're going to the brig as well," the Commander declared, his voice firm and unwavering.
Wilkerson's eyes blazed with fury, his grief palpable in the air. "They brought Tobias and Keith into this. He was my little brother, Marty, my blood brother," he spat out, his voice thick with emotion. Marty approached, a hand extended in comfort, but Wilkerson pushed it away with a bitter gesture.
"How can I think when my sixteen-year-old brother is lying dead in a coffin while I sleep five rooms away. I can see it from my window," Wilkerson's words hung heavy in the air, filled with a raw anguish that pierced the silence. With a final, defiant glare, he turned and made his way out of the room, leaving Marty to grapple with the aftermath.
Sophie and Norea lingered by the Ensign's side, their presence a stark contrast to the chaos that had engulfed the mess hall. Marty's hands ran through his hair, his eyes weary as he turned to face the two girls.
"So, is this where you punish me, Ensign?" Sophie's voice held a hint of mischief, her wide smirk belying the gravity of the situation.
Marty laughed, a bitter sound tinged with exhaustion. "Nah, I can't really do anything. You're freelancers... however, don't think I'd afford this level of grace next time."
Norea chuckled at his words, her gaze sharp and unyielding. "You think you could handle us, Spacien?" she taunted, her tone laced with challenge.
"Watch yourself," Marty shot back, his voice a warning as he met her gaze head-on. "Call me that again, and I swear to you... woman or not..." His words hung in the air, a silent promise of consequences to come.
Marty sighed heavily, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a dense fog. "I never gave you shit about being Earthians, I never gave you shit about the Harmony IMC war, but you keep throwing those slurs around. I won't be around to protect you two."
"I think we're the ones protecting you," Sophie retorted, her tone playful as she sauntered closer to him. "Because Ensign..." She elongated the title with each syllable, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You failed in killing those Jetturk boys, you killed their friends, and Jetturk Heavy Industries is most definitely coming to hunt us down."
"Let them come," Marty shot back, his gaze unwavering. "I want to even out the score."
Norea chuckled at his bravado. "You failed in defeating him with that Gundam..."
"I ran out of fuel," Marty snapped, his patience wearing thin. "It won't happen again. Next time he sees the green of the Full Armor... it's over for him."
Sophie's laughter echoed in the tense silence, a sharp contrast to Marty's growing frustration. "Still, that doesn't excuse the fact that we're practically marooned in space."
"We're not marooned in space," Marty countered firmly. "The captain stated before that we were drifting back to Earth."
"Right before the captain died," Norea interjected, her voice laced with skepticism.
"...and when will we be able to reach Earth?" Sophie pressed, her concern palpable.
"Hell, that's not the part I am most worried about," Norea interrupted, her tone urgent. "What the hell are we going to do? We've got three Gundams on us and trekking through space. If any Spacien force tries to halt us and perform a search, we're done for..."
"We'll figure it out when we get there, but I need everyone to be assured," Marty stated firmly, his tone commanding. "I can't be losing people to panic or hysteria out here. Christ, we're meant to function like a military unit."
"Some military unit," Norea scoffed, her disbelief evident.
Marty's eyes widened, the depths of his emotions swirling like a tempestuous storm. Hate flickered in his gaze, momentarily consuming him as he absorbed Sophie and Norea's words.
"Whatever," he spat, his voice sharp with pent-up frustration, and he turned abruptly, striding away with purposeful steps. Sophie's playful demeanor faltered, her jest left unsaid as she watched him depart. Even Norea, in her own way, began to comprehend the weight of her earlier jest.
Marty moved through the corridors with a heavy heart, the weight of the world pressing down upon him. He rubbed the fatigue from his eyes, feeling the exhaustion seep into his bones. Descending into the lower recesses of the ship, he found himself in the shadowed confines of the backup port, overlooking the hangar below. The air was chilled, a tangible reminder of the cold reality surrounding them.
Before him lay the solemn reminder of their journey's toll – the row upon row of steel coffins, each containing a fallen comrade, preserved in frozen repose. Marty knelt before one of these somber vessels, his thoughts a maelstrom of grief and regret.
"Tobias, I don't know what to do," Marty's voice reverberated through the silent chamber, punctuated by the sharp slap of his hand against the cold metal floor. His jacket hung open, sleeves rolled up, but he felt no chill. "I don't know how to lead them... I was always just the fighter... now I have to..."
Rising with a resolute air, Marty surveyed the grim tableau before him, the fallen comrades strewn like forgotten pawns in a cosmic chess game. "I just need to remember the orders... the mission," he muttered, his gaze drifting towards the window. Through its translucent pane, the vast expanse of space stretched out, an endless sea of darkness punctuated by distant stars. "We've half accomplished it, hungry and adrift in space... I am captain now, for better or worse."
His breath hitched, the weight of responsibility settling heavily upon his shoulders as he fixed his gaze on the hanger beyond. There, nestled amidst the shadows, loomed the hulking form of his Gundam, a silent sentinel awaiting its next command.
And in the recesses of his mind, the haunting echo of Marko's words lingered like a specter. "Aiden Winters, The Newtype of Harmony, must inherit the FA-78-1, the Full Armor Gundam," they whispered, their significance bearing down upon Marty like a leaden burden as he stared into the unyielding gaze of the mechanized behemoth before him.
NikaTop of Form
"Cecilia, if Deacon says he's fine, he's fine," Nika's voice, cool and assured, drifted through the phone line. She stood before her bedroom mirror, the soft blue dress in her hands reflecting the hues of her eyes as she scrutinized her own reflection.
"Nika, I've been talking to Aiden and Deacon ever since the incident," Cecilia's voice crackled over the line.
"... and they've told you that he's fine. Deacon even told me that he even shook his own hand himself," Nika interjected.
Cecilia's sigh, heavy with worry, echoed through the receiver. "My Jackie would've told me if he was going out on a mission. He did it without fail for every single one, and he calls me late in the night, all broken up, and I can hardly understand what he said, but Nika, I just got a feeling that something just isn't right."
Nika shrugged, her reflection mirroring the gesture. "What more could it be?"
"I don't know yet," Cecilia responded. "But I know I have to tread carefully. Ever since Winters vs Ceres, things around here have gotten more violent and intense."
Nika chuckled softly. "No kidding... I'll see you at the party, Cecilia, but please, don't worry too much about Jack. It's like what you always keep saying..."
"He always comes back," Cecilia's voice wavered, choked with emotion, her words hanging in the air like a fragile promise. A tearful sniffle betrayed the depth of her feelings. "I'll see you at the award ceremony, Nika. You and Deacon and the rest of the Harmony boys are going to be there."
"Guest of honor," Nika's playful response danced through the phone line, a glimmer of levity in the midst of somber conversation. "A way of celebrating. It's an incubation party, but Miorine's own father is pressing everyone to go."
Cecilia's surprise was palpable. "Delling Rembran himself. I guess I've got to bust out the nice dress," her chuckle, though brief, carried a hint of warmth, a fleeting moment of respite from her worries.
Mustering a smile, Cecilia continued, "Must feel nice to be the date of one of the holder friends... I've got to go around as some sort of an internship, but you enjoy yourself."
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and Nino's voice announced their arrival. "They're here," he stated matter-of-factly.
"I'll see you at the party," Nika replied, her voice tinged with anticipation.
Exiting Earth House, Nika was greeted by an unexpected sight—a limo awaited them. She chuckled at the extravagance, a stark contrast to their usual mode of transportation.
Deacon emerged from the limo, his hair freshly cut, and Nika couldn't help but tease him about his new look. "Aw, you got rid of the bangs?" she quipped.
Deacon chuckled in response. "I was thinking of a switch up for the big day," he explained, taking her hand in his. The music pulsated through the speakers, enveloping them in its rhythm. In that moment, amidst laughter and smiles, the tumult of conflict faded into the background.
As they settled into the limo, Nika observed their surroundings—a luxurious yet understated interior, a testament to their newfound prosperity as Sons of Harmony.
"Aiden, Aiden, Aiden!" Oscar's exuberant voice broke the tranquility, drawing Aiden's attention away from the window. With his hair neatly styled and dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, Aiden exuded an air of sophistication.
Nika took a deep breath, sinking into her seat as Deacon joined her. Despite the uncertainties of their world, she found solace in this moment of camaraderie.
Oscar's infectious laughter filled the space. "Aiden, they've got Sprite and Coke in here," he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, is it all free for us to take?"
Deacon's laughter filled the luxurious limo as he gestured towards Miorine, who gracefully illuminated the space with the flick of a switch. Bathed in the soft glow of the limo lights, Suletta's radiant presence nearly startled her companions. Her hair cascaded in a flawless ponytail, a vibrant red dress accentuating her features with a crimson hue. Aiden hurried to assist her, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before he tore his gaze away.
Miorine exuded elegance in a poised blue dress, her hair fashioned into a chic bob. Though she retained her signature cool demeanor, there was a subtle warmth to her aura that complemented her more spirited counterpart.
Aiden couldn't help but steal glances at Miorine. Shaking off the temptation, he redirected his attention to Suletta, who playfully adjusted a stray strand of hair before casting a coy glance his way. Suppressing a smile, he averted his gaze, charmed by her endearing demeanor.
"It's all taken care of, Oscar," Deacon assured, his voice tinged with amusement. "Don't distract Aiden; he's got to rehearse his lines."
Aiden chuckled ruefully, his fingers tightening around the edges of his speech. "It's absurd that I have to give a speech in front of a bunch of wealthy people," he muttered.
Miorine shot him a pointed look. "They emailed you about it a week ago," she retorted curtly.
Rolling his eyes, Aiden countered, "Classes and music."
Miorine's eyes narrowed. "...more like smoking and music," she quipped.
Laughter rippled through the group, even Nika joining in as the limo began its journey. "So, you're okay?" Deacon inquired, his concern evident as he listened to the banter between Aiden and Miorine.
Nika shrugged, her cheeks flushing slightly as Deacon's hand gently squeezed hers. "I almost passed out in my bathroom from nerves," she confessed. "This is my first time attending an event like this."
Meeting his gaze, Nika continued, her voice softening. "But I'm grateful to have you here with me, Deacon, to lend your support." Deacon's smile in response warmed her heart.
Aiden's gaze narrowed as he observed Miorine. "You know, you'd be prettier if you spoke less," he teased.
Miorine's expression soured, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the group. Even Suletta couldn't contain a chuckle. Anger flashed in Miorine's eyes as she retorted, "Oh yeah, Winters? Well... well..."
"Hah, I win," Aiden declared triumphantly, raising his hands in mock victory. "She just can't compete."
Miorine's gaze narrowed, a surge of frustration rippling through her body like an electric current. "You... you are an insufferable man, Aiden Winters."
Aiden merely shrugged, his nonchalant demeanor a stark contrast to Miorine's evident agitation. "Just glad to know that you care."
Before Miorine could formulate a response, the limo screeched to a halt. Where had the time gone? Aiden glanced beside him, realizing Oscar had guzzled two sodas already and now clutched his stomach, the victim of motion sickness.
Why had he allowed himself to engage in such a lengthy conversation with Miorine? Time had slipped away so swiftly, leaving Suletta beside him, but thoughts lingering on Miorine.
"We're here," Deacon announced, breaking the moment.
Excited anticipation bubbled within Nika as Deacon gallantly opened the door, extending a hand to help her out. The group emerged from the limo, their eyes drawn to the magnificent golden building aglow with lights.
"Aiden, have you memorized your speech?" Deacon inquired. "I wrote it for you and everything."
Aiden crumpled the speech into a ball and tossed it over his shoulder into a nearby trash can. "Hopefully," he smirked, ignoring Deacon's reproachful look. Suletta and Nika guided them into the building, leaving Miorine and Oscar watching from the sidelines. Miorine's heart sank as she witnessed her fiancé disappearing into the fray with her best friend.
"Does that make you angry?" Oscar's blunt question shattered the silence.
Miorine remained silent, her gaze fixed on the vibrant orange lights illuminating the entrance. Oscar, with his dark oiled hair and prosthetic leg, stood before her, a solemn expression replacing any hint of jest.
"I am not in the mood for this..." Miorine began, her tone clipped.
"I'm talking about your feelings for Aiden," Oscar interjected, his words cutting through the air. Miorine's eyes widened in disbelief. There was no laughter, no teasing, only a weariness etched in Oscar's features as he rested a hand over his eyes. "I'm not here to mock you, Miorine. Out of everyone, I never expected you to fall for Aiden."
Miorine remained speechless, her inner turmoil swirling like a tempest within her soul.
Oscar's voice rumbled with a blend of jest and sincerity. "He's been a lady killer ever since I've known him," he remarked, a chuckle dancing in his tone. "But there was a loneliness to all of that... that changed when he met Suletta, and when he met you."
Miorine turned to him, her expression searching. "Miorine, we are going to honor our promise to you, but everything that's happened... do you still want to go?" Oscar's words hung heavy in the air.
Miorine's eyes widened, a surge of confusion and apprehension coursing through her. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice sharp and direct.
Oscar met her gaze, his eyes carrying the weight of unspoken truths. "Miorine, the first time we met was Suletta saving you from when you were running away... that was so long ago, and you have hardly mentioned going to Earth," he began, his words probing gently. "Before, Aiden was so fixated on music and on us... I guess, he was able to forget from music, but music... like everything creative can lead to other things. His weed smoking, cigarette smoking, and drinking. I know you see it happen, Miorine, but trust me if it was a problem Deacon or Jack would've stepped in... he'll mature, but this who he is. But Miorine... you've also rebirthed the pilot within him."
Miorine's eyes widened at the revelation, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. "Are you saying... that he fights for me?"
Oscar nodded solemnly. "For both you and Suletta, he always has, he cares about you... but Suletta does as well. If she found this out I don't know what will happen with you two, but whatever happens between you and Aiden, please remember, Suletta."
As Oscar ascended the steps, Miorine felt a sudden urge to reach out, to stop him, to delve deeper into this conversation. "Oscar, wait!" she called out, her hand raised in a silent plea. But Oscar offered her a reassuring smile over his shoulder. "It's alright Miorine... let's go party. We don't have that many of these," he said, and with a heavy heart, she followed in his wake.
MiorineTop of Form
Miorine sought solace from the raucous festivities, the clamor of the party muted by the sanctuary of her solitude. Two glasses of champagne had proven too much for her delicate constitution, leaving her stomach in turmoil. With shallow breaths, she peered into the mirror, the reflection of a troubled heiress gazing back at her.
"I am the daughter of Delling Rembran," she murmured, her words tinged with determination as she attempted to rally her spirits. "I will not let mere alcohol defeat me." Yet, despite her resolve, Miorine grappled with the effects of the potent libations.
As she navigated her unsteady path toward the bathroom stall, her equilibrium betrayed by the alcohol's influence, she collided with someone in her haze. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" she exclaimed, the weight of her distress evident in her trembling voice. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes as she lamented the turmoil of the day. "Today is horrible, horrible... my best friend is in love with the guy I like."
"Miorine," a voice interjected, cutting through the chaos with a soothing calmness that stirred a sense of recognition within her.
"Cecilia?" Miorine's voice quivered, a mixture of surprise and fear, as she scrambled to her feet, her gaze fixated on the weapon in Cecilia's hand. Clad in a dress that mirrored the platinum hues of her hair, Cecilia was perched on the closed toilet lid, her expression fraught with distress.
Miorine swiftly secured the door behind them, enveloping the space in an aura of secrecy.
Cecilia brushed away her tears, concern etched across her features. "Are you alright, Miorine?" she inquired, her voice laced with worry.
Blinking back tears, Miorine attempted to compose herself. "Yeah, yep, just had a little bit to drink," she replied with a nervous chuckle, her tone tinged with awkwardness.
Drawing a deep breath, Cecilia voiced her own insecurities. "I look horrible," she confessed bluntly.
"You do not look horrible," Miorine countered, her tone gentle yet firm.
Though Cecilia shook her head, a faint smile graced her lips. "Seems like you're dealing with some Harmony boy trouble," she remarked, punctuating her words with a sad laugh. Miorine's demeanor shifted, her icy facade returning piece by piece at the mention of the Harmony boys. However, Cecilia's gaze drifted downward. "I am dealing with it as well."
Miorine's eyes widened. "Are you talking about Jack?"
Cecilia's reaction was immediate, a desperate urgency in her movements as she seized Miorine by the shoulders. "Do you know where he is?" she implored, her voice trembling with emotion. "I've been asking Deacon for days, but he always says the same thing, Miorine. He and the rest have been ignoring me... they keep saying he's on a mission, but Miorine, I know, I just know that something is wrong!"
Miorine was shaken by Cecilia's distress, her own resolve faltering in the face of her friend's anguish. Cecilia teetered on the brink of tears once more. "He always tells me when he goes on his missions. I know he called me, but my Jackie would've never had that be our last call," she lamented. "Even the secret missions, even before, my Jackie told me."
A surge of empathy washed over Miorine, her eyes widening in realization as Cecilia's words hung heavy in the air. "Don't tell Deacon... Jack was second in command and could get in big trouble and..." Cecilia's frantic plea trailed off.
Miorine waved off Cecilia's concerns with a sigh. "Cecilia, I don't tell Deacon everything, and you shouldn't either," she reassured, her voice tinged with resolve. "He assured me that he shook Jack's hand himself, and I don't think he's lying about that."
"Then what could it be?" Cecilia's question tumbled out in a rush, her desperation palpable. But then, she paused, a flicker of realization crossing her features.
"What?" Miorine prompted, her curiosity piqued by Cecilia's sudden change in demeanor.
"When he called me... the last time he spoke to me was during the fight with Ceres," Cecilia divulged, her gaze locking with Miorine's. "Elan Ceres, not the one that died, a different one is coming to this party... most likely the original."
Miorine's eyes widened at Cecilia's revelation. "Did Winters not know?" Cecilia pressed.
Miorine sighed, her expression weighted with concern. "No, he didn't," she confirmed, a sense of gravity lacing her words. Cecilia's frustration was palpable. "This place has grown a whole lot more dangerous since that duel. People are going to scoff at it, but faces need to show, I suppose," she mused, her tone tinged with resignation.
Though Miorine sighed once more, she quickly composed herself. "Cecilia," she began, her voice firm yet gentle as she locked eyes with her friend. "You said before that you spoke to Jack?"
Cecilia huffed in frustration. "It was so broken up, Miorine. I could hardly hear anything, but there was one thing, a sentence that I could pick out," she recounted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Quiet Zero."
A tremor rippled through Miorine's heart at the mention of those words.
"Do you know anything about it?" Cecilia inquired, her eyes searching Miorine's for answers.
Miorine could only shake her head. "No, I'm sorry," she replied, her words laden with guilt. She had lied, and though she had her reasons, doubts nagged at her. Deacon's own deceptions echoed in her mind—did he share her suspicions? After helping Cecilia clean herself up, Miorine followed her back, almost as if the last fifteen minutes hadn't happened. As she retied her bun, another interruption loomed.
"Miorine," came Shaddiq's voice, his figure cloaked in a pale white suit.
Miorine's expression soured at the sight of him. It seemed she was encountering everyone she wished to avoid at the party. "What do you want?" she demanded, her tone sharp.
Shaddiq's eyes softened, a fleeting smile crossing his lips. "Come on, Miorine," he urged gently. "We've known each other since we were children. I can remember when we were kids attending these types of events."
Miorine's arms folded defensively across her chest. "Yeah, and a lot has changed," she retorted, her tone cool and distant.
"Yep," Shaddiq acknowledged softly. "You weren't getting married back then, but a lot has happened."
With a drink in hand, Shaddiq closed the distance between them, his expression earnest. "Miorine, we really must speak in private," he insisted, his tone urgent.
Miorine's eyes widened in alarm. "What are you doing?" she protested, her voice rising in apprehension. "We're in public, and..." Before she could finish her sentence, Shaddiq seized her hand, and she winced at his touch. For a fleeting moment, the shadow of Aiden flickered across Shaddiq's features, but Miorine pushed such thoughts aside as Shaddiq led her away to a secluded corner of the party.
"What is this all about, Shaddiq!" Miorine demanded, wrenching her hand free from his grip.
He regarded her for a moment, his mind drifting to memories of the girl he'd known since childhood. She paused, her words hanging in the air. "If you don't tell me what you're..."
"A while ago, Aiden Winters, Jack, Deacon, and Oscar all left from the academy," Shaddiq interjected, his gaze steady on her.
Miorine scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I don't see how this matters to the..."
"We didn't think much of it, but I heard through the grapevine that you were mighty pissed off...have they even told you?" Shaddiq pressed.
Miorine fell silent, her thoughts racing. Shaddiq's next words sent a chill down her spine. "Did they ever tell you where they truly went on that mission?"
She remained silent, but her expression betrayed the whirlwind of thoughts raging within her mind. So much had transpired—Elan vs. Winter—overshadowing everything. But Miorine realized that mission was no ordinary affair...Oscar lost his leg on that one.
Shaddiq reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone, extending it toward Miorine. "I think you should see this then."
Miorine accepted the phone with trembling hands, tapping on the video as...
"Oh my god, everything is on fire!" a voice screamed.
The video was chaotic, the footage shaky, the sounds of the crowd's panic drowning out everything. Except the thundering of gunfire. She watched as titans fell from the sky, crashing like fallen stars. Miorine almost turned away...until she spotted a mech wielding a colossal sword, its gauntlets painted red.
"I know that mech," she whispered.
"So, it's what I expected," Shaddiq remarked. "I don't know what Winters has bearing the sinner's red," he declared.
"The Sinner's Red?" Miorine echoed, her mind racing back to a memory just before Aiden departed on the mission. He had smoked...and returned barefoot, shirtless, covered in paint, his mech's hands stained crimson.
"It's an old Harmony tradition," Zephyr explained. "Sometimes, it's a brand of penance for those of Harmony stock. But that begs the question, what does he have to feel bad about?" Shaddiq mused, his tone laced with curiosity.
Yet, Miorine's eyes widened, a tremor coursing through her as she beheld the scene unfolding on the screen—a mech, unmistakably Aiden's, engaged in combat. It should have been safely stored at the academy, but here it was, battling numerous mechs, no other titans in sight.
"They were fighting other Sons of Harmony," Miorine murmured.
Shaddiq shook his head, dismissing her assumption. "No, those are the IMC," he stated bluntly.
"The IMC?" Miorine echoed, her shock palpable as she recalled. "Those were..."
Shaddiq sighed, offering an explanation. "The members who hold planetary rights over certain worlds of the frontier. They were also the ones who colluded with the Benrett Group to seize control of the frontier."
She watched in horror as Aiden dismantled the black and white titan, severing its limbs before crushing the cockpit with his mech's hands, pilot and all.
Miorine dropped the phone, the device clattering to the floor. Aiden's face flashed in her mind's eye, his features etched with determination and something darker.
"What you have witnessed was..." Shaddiq began, but Miorine couldn't bear to hear more.
She shook her head vigorously, a stray hair flying out of place as she squeezed her eyes shut. "No, that can't be true," she protested. "They couldn't have..."
Shaddiq continued, his voice grave. "They went to an IMC Armory world, not much on it except for their city, but Winters and his Legion inflicted great harm upon the planet."
Her thoughts raced back to Laude's words, his description of the Legion as a band of criminals and brigands. Deacon had assured her they had left that life behind, but here she was confronted with undeniable proof to the contrary.
Miorine's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you saying that Aiden and the rest are still working with the Legion?" she demanded, her voice laced with disbelief.