Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Supreme Commander Kira Yamato, or Kira, as he preferred people to call him, as “Supreme Commander” carried a nastily authoritative ring to it, at least in his mind, lay asleep.

                He dreamed of the beach where he’d first made love with Lacus, feeling her fragrant hair and skin against his, feeling like cherry blossoms on the wind. He’d always felt like people were more honest alone and naked, even if he’d felt nothing but confusion in Flay’s arms years ago. Lacus, void of makeup and refinements, just as herself, had felt like pure acceptance.

                The beach, however, hadn’t been on fire last time. And it most certainly didn’t have Rau Le Creuset standing on a ruined Providence Gundam buried halfway on its side in the ocean, now a blazing orange colour from the fire.

                “Hello, Kira,” Rau said, in that calm, refined tone he used to utter everything from death threats to his usual tea order. “Do you enjoy your freedom? Do you enjoy having love, having someone who truly understands you?”

                “I’m not having an argument with a dream of a nihilist sociopath who doesn’t understand love,” Kira said. Nightmares of Rau weren’t infrequent, but he’d become jaded enough to ignore whatever the hell Dream Rau was saying.

                “I understood love better than you did. I knew humanity would never cherish it. And I knew that making you see that losing everything is a constant reality, Kira. They call you ‘Ultimate Coordinator.’ They call dear Lacus ‘Accord.’ Put whatever name on it you want. You’re all dust, sorted by colour and shape.”

                “I’ll fight for her. I always will.”

                “I don’t doubt it, Kira. You were always the sort to hit your head against the mountain until it moved, talking all the while. Peace, love, understanding—you’re talking to the deaf, Kira. We were made as weapons. And those who weren’t—embrace becoming them. Tell me, do you know what comfort your platitudes are to those dying of a bullet wound?”

                “Not comfort enough, I know, but—”

                “But nothing, Kira. You’ve proven you can kill for peace, again and again—but can you bring lasting peace? Oh, do me a favour and don’t answer the question. I can be rhetorical when I want,” Rau said, vanishing.

                Kira left and found Lacus nearby.

                “Lacus, come on, love—"

                “Kira, I—I can’t.”

                Lacus was crying.

                Rushing to her side, Kira wiped the tears from her face, only for blood to come off on his glove.

                “Lacus—we gotta help you, get you to a—”

                Kira’s hand morphed into a railgun, blowing Lacus apart into thousands of specks of dust. He screamed as he felt more and more of his body turning into random Gundam parts—guns, swords, wings, until he was nothing more than a crawling mess of his past Mobile Suits. The golden wings of the Mighty Strike Freedom ripped from his back as he flew into the sky, his distended mouth breathing flames of destruction everywhere.

                “Remember, Kira. You are an enforcer, not a peacekeeper. You cannot heal a world without a gun in your hand levelled at the head of a sick, sad child that never learns,” Rau spat, mockingly, though he could not be seen.

                Kira didn’t even bother screaming as he woke up next to Lacus. She held him tight, because the curve of his spine told her everything.

                “Rau again?” Lacus asked.

                “Yeah…” Kira admitted, sighing, swallowing the tears.

                “Kira, you know this isn’t your fault, right? Rau—Rau was an unhappy, lost man. He didn’t want to be helped. He hated who he was so much that he was begging for you to pull the trigger.”

                “But I shouldn’t have had to, Lacus. I’m—I’m stuck thinking about what he said in the dream. About how I’m not someone who brings peace—just demands it at gunpoint. And I’m worried I’ll get you hurt too.”

                “Is that what you truly believe,” Lacus said, gently, “or is it what you merely fear?”

                Kira shrugged.

                “Can’t it be both?”

                “Then you are wiser than Rau gave you credit for. You know that you could become a tyrant, but you don’t. When it’s time to hang up your sword, you do. You’re not a weapon, love.”

                “I guess…I just wish that felt like enough,” Kira replied.

                “Kira, did you really think you were going to fix two wars’ worth of trauma in a year just by founding a peace organization and fighting one rogue nation?” Lacus said, teasingly.

                “I…guess…? If I’m honest, I just regret killing Orphee. Not so much about what he did to you—that felt easy to justify—but…he was as much a victim of his kingdom as he was a perpetrator of its abuses.”

                “Kira…he wasn’t backing down. You can’t weigh everyone’s sins on your head,” Lacus said.

                “Not what the internet says,” Kira said, opening up his phone to show a webpage.

                It read: MANLY MUSTACHE HARO’S MEME PAGE—DANK MEME DE ARU!

                The first picture was Kira’s head on an old painting of Jesus Christ, with the caption “JESUS YAMATO DIED FOR YOUR SINS.”

                Below it was a picture of Athrun Zala, distorted, with the caption “NO ATHHAS?”

                Further below that was “The Virgin Black Knights vs THE CHADTHRUN ZALA.”

                Even further, somewhere near the bottom, was a picture of Shinn Asuka, talking with Kira, who was saying “How come Lacus lets you have TWO GFs?” and Shinn replying “DESTINY.”

                “Are our own soldiers posting these?” Lacus asked, frowning.

                “Some are. The more playful memes, at any rate. Don’t think the Jesus Yamato one was anyone here, though.”

                “I think we’re taking the memes too seriously, Kira. Surely, we can count what happened in the Foundation DMZ as a win? Democracy is already returning,” Lacus said, smiling.

                “I suppose so. I guess the whole affair has me on edge. Peace has felt awfully distant, even if things are looking up lately. I mean, Mu seems to have worked a year’s worth of miracles with Agnes, and they’ve barely even spoken,” Kira pointed out.

                “Agnes, for all I worried about her intentions with you, was just an unhappy kid. I was being petty and jealous. I don’t like acknowledging that that’s part of me, but…it is. I think when I’m scared, I’m just as lost as everyone else, and I’ve tried to get that across to the world…”

                “…but people want a larger-than-life icon to look up to, not someone they can genuinely relate to,” Kira finished. “And my fears had me acting just as badly. I’ve…I’ve got a lot of people to make it up to.”

                “Like…who? You’ve patched things up with Shinn, Athrun…”

                “Sai Argyle,” Kira said.

                “Wait…Sai? From the crew? What on earth could you have done to him—”

                Kira sighed.

                “You’re gonna judge me hardcore for still holding onto this.”

                Lacus giggled.

                “Try me.”

                “Okay, so—back in the First Bloody Valentine War—”

                “When you were a literal kid?”

                “Yeah, but—he hated me. I…I kinda stole Flay from him, accidentally. And he tried one-upping me for a while, and I had lost my mind and beat him up. And I tried to apologize later and say that he didn’t need to be a Coordinator to be anyone special…and then he rejected Flay and all that. And maybe I said something right? But I don’t feel like I did. I feel like I word-vomited all over him.”

                “Wow, you really are Jesus Yamato,” Lacus teased.

                “Stop, Lacus!” Kira said, blushing.

                “Flay was a deeply unhappy girl, Kira. I barely knew her, but everything I’ve seen of her, or heard of her, tells me she was using you and Sai as crutches. And she didn’t deserve what happened to her—nobody could—but we can’t take on everyone’s sins. No matter how much we wish we could,” she said, gently. “And if you want to make it up to Sai, well I’m sure you can. He does, in fact, drop in to COMPS constantly as part of his work with Orb’s military.”

                “I’ll let you know how that goes…”

                “For now, get some sleep, Kira. Quit burning the midnight oil for once.”

                And Lacus’s goodnight kiss sent Kira back to a dreamless haze.

--

                Sai was busily working the following morning on some spreadsheets related to the costs of paying off the destroyed Archangel. In all fairness, it was an older ship, so the cost hadn’t been a huge hit to COMPS’ finances, but there was sentimental value that just couldn’t fit in the budget.

                “Hello, Sai. It’s been a while,” Kira said, approaching hesitantly.

                “Kira. What brings you up to this office? Hardly the place for derring-do and gunslinging. Still, I’ve always got time for an old friend…” he said, minimizing the spreadsheet.

                “Old…friend? I…well…I came to—” Kira stammered.

                Sai got up and poured some green tea from a dispenser nearby.

                “My God, Kira, you’re not still on about Flay, are you? You really haven’t changed. You marry the idol of millions with a saint’s forgiving nature, and you still worry about the dumb shit you said as a kid.”

                Kira was crimson,

                “I never properly apologized for acting—”

                “Like what? A lost, traumatized kid with no parents and a spoiled brat of a girlfriend? Someone who massaged that ego of yours to a never-ending tomorrow?” Sai teased. “Look, Kira, you did me a favour. Somewhere in that blundering, stumbling mess of an apology, you made me realize a profound truth.”

                “I d-did?!” Kira stuttered.

                “Yes. You made realize I could never stand to be a Coordinator. God. How do you deal with that level of anxiety?! I think you made me realize that I’m very grateful to not be a walking computer, because they don’t make organic cooling fans or liquid nitrogen to calm a burgeoning messiah complex. Kira, you’re a lot of things, but give yourself credit.  You’re a decent man who made one or two major mistakes. Like we haven’t all done that?!”

                “But—”

                “Again, you’ve shown me the truth. I think Naturals might just be better at accepting our mistakes, at least when we’re reasonable people. The burden, my God! The burden of having to have society’s expectations to be superheroes when you’re at best anxiety cases with an Alan Turing mind! Now I get why Rau went batshit! I’d have done the same if everyone was going ‘Good morning, Clone Gandhi! Come liberate humanity!’”

                “So, you’re not mad—”

                “Mad about what, exactly?” Sai said, handing Kira a cup of tea. “The fact none of us knew how to apologize in the middle of a war where we were literal children?!”

                Kira sighed.

                “I really feel like an idiot now.”

                “Kira, man, you’ve always been an idiot. The sooner you accept that, the faster you can save humanity from itself, or whatever it is you think your mission is,” Sai teased. “But I’ve been just as big an idiot. I mean, I was going to marry Flay. Y’know, the walking mess of issues? I saw what she molded you into, and realized ‘holy hell, I could never want that! The alimony payments alone’d finish me!’”

                The two laughed.

                “God, that’s dark!” Kira said, but he was grinning.

                “And then I tried stealing the Strike after it was tuned for you! Like, I saw exactly how you saw the world—it was like playing an FPS where the sensitivity was tuned to max! I realized I didn’t want to be a Coordinator; it was like chugging ten energy drinks after a hangover! And yeah…that’s why I didn’t hold your little bit of ‘I’m genetic perfection so I get to cuck you’ against you. And it’s also why I told Flay where to stick it after she thought you were dead. I knew deep down she’d wanted you gone.”

                Kira sighed.

                “I…I’d always suspected, based on what Rau was hinting at.”

                “We both got led astray by a hot chick who refused to see a therapist and thought getting us to fight and die for her would make up for her daddy issues. See, I can’t be mad, because that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Athrun trying to flirt.”

                Kira choked on a laugh.

                “You’ve put a lot of fears to rest, Sai. Thank you.”

                “Kira, if I can offer only one piece of advice, from a Natural’s perspective—stop buying your own hype. It’ll get you killed. Remember what George Glenn said a Coordinator was—it was anyone, Natural or not, who took it upon themselves to make the world kinder,” Sai said, warmly. “Now, if you aren’t too busy—I’ve got a spare ticket for bowling. One game, early afternoon. Come have a little fun, hmm?”

                “I’ll be there, Sai. Where are we headed?”

                “There’s a Round1 on the outskirts of town. Meet me there. We’ll do some rhythm games too, if you’re feeling up to them.”

                “It’ll be nice to get away for a bit. I feel like all of life has gotten away from me,” Kira admitted.

                “Oh, same, but you do get used to it. Just remember—other people can save the world too!” Sai said, laughing.

                --

                “How are we today, Destiny Dog?” asked Agnes, grinning insufferably at the COMPS cafeteria table.

                “Fine, minus the fact I’m pretty sure you elbowed me in your sleep,” Shinn deadpanned. “Luna, how are you doing?”

                “Slept well.  I guess it helps knowing we made a difference out in Foundation,” Lunamaria said, taking a sip of coffee.

                “So, uh…listen. I got a weird thought, but…I kinda been working on something. I’ll…show you, once we’re done here,” Agnes said, a slight tremulous quality to her voice.

                “Uh…okay,” Shinn said.

                “We’d be glad to see it,” Lunamaria replied, smiling warmly.

                Shinn noticed a lack of smugness in Agnes’ expression—well, a lack of specific smugness. Sure, she still had a haughty air; getting rid of that would be biologically impossible. However, there wasn’t any directed malice in it, for once.

                Either Shinn’s puppy-dog eyes had melted her, or something was really off.

                Eventually, breakfast, such as it was (Shinn enjoyed it, but he’d never been a fussy eater, while Lunamaria could happily never eat another ZAFT-made ration again,) was finished, they left back for the locker room.

                Agnes sighed as she opened her locker.

                “What happened to your helmet?” Shinn asked.

                Indeed, Agnes’ helmet was considerably damaged—not to the point of being unwearable, but it looked like it had been sandblasted everywhere but the visor.

                “I…look, the paint got chipped off when my GYAN Strom got shot down,” Agnes explained. “But…when I took it in my hands again, late one night, I realized I hated that colour. I took a razor blade and shaved off as much of the paint as I could. I took special care to carve off that stupid Moonlight Valkyrie logo. I….”

                “It’s not you anymore, is it?” Lunamaria asked.

                “No, it’s not. And, well…I wish I knew what to put there. Maybe one day I’ll figure it out, but—the Moonlight Valkyrie was always daddy’s girl, and I’m not that anymore. Just—if any one of you saps even breathes a word of this to anyone, I’ll make your lives hell—”

                “Oh, God, finally! I always said that was a stupid nickname! And such a hideous shade of blue!”

                Hilda appeared from behind her locker door, closing it, and smirking.

                “Hilda! How are you everywhere?!” Agnes spluttered.

                “I literally work in the same unit you do. Odds are, I’m going to be around you most of the time! I was just fixing my eyepatch,” she explained.

                “You have to go to your locker to do that?” Shinn asked.

                “Dude, where do you think I keep my eyepatches? I keep my eyedrops and stuff in there, so naturally the patches are next to them. Anyway, Agnes—don’t worry, I’m not gonna gloat over your little self-realization moment, okay?”

                “Y-You won’t?” Agnes asked.

                “Agnes, please, I’m not a mean girl with a zillion self-esteem issues, alright? If I can live with the ‘academy bicycle’ rep, do you really think I’m going to go ‘LOL, no more Moonlight Valkyrie’? I mean, yeah, I always thought it was a dumb name—of course you’re the Moonlight Valkyrie if you never leave the damn moon! Just—promise me one thing, Agnes?”

                “Depends.”

                “Promise me you’ll pick a name that actually fits you. Don’t do it until you know for sure, okay? ‘Cause between you and me, everyone here kind of sucks at the nickname thing. Mu’s about the only one I respect because ‘The Man Who Makes The Impossible Possible’ makes up for ‘The Hawk of Endymion’ sounding like an airport novel thriller.”

                “I’m growing to like ‘Destiny Dog’ in spite of everything,” Shinn noted. “Beats the hell out of ‘Freedom Killer.’”

                “Sounds kinda like a metal band,” Hilda agreed. “Hey, speaking of—you been seeing those ads lately for that new band All We Like Sheep? They’re hardcore, came from ZAFT—but man, I don’t know about ‘em. The lead singer keeps running down Lacus, and I don’t even get why. They’re not even the same genre of music.”

                “I think I heard their new single yesterday,” Lunamaria said. “God, what a bunch of tryhards.”

                “I think their lead singer Colin Nora is kinda cute,” Agnes said. “But what’s with the mask fetish? It gives me Rau vibes and I’m not sure I like that.”

                Hilda opened her locker and showed them a poster:

                ALL WE LIKE SHEEP

                NEW ALBUM 07.22.75

                PEACE SELLS, WE AIN’T BUYIN’

                Colin Nora, a slight blonde man in a black butterfly-shaped mask, grinned in what seemed to be a heavy metal take on ZAFT’s uniform—all red and black leather. Beside him, the drummer, a spiky-haired blond and a gloomy-looking female bassist stood, grim smirks on their faces. Colin himself held a keytar. The silver-haired rhythm guitarist lay slumped, looking half-asleep, against an amp.

                LOOK FOR OUR NEW SINGLE: [FREEDOM TO DIE]/[HARO GOODBYE]

                “God, what edgelords,” Shinn muttered.

                “Pot, kettle,” Agnes chided.

                “Hey, for all that I used to be a hardcase—these days I only do it to protect people. I’m not saying ‘WAR IS WHY I LIVE! ALL NEUTRALS MUST DIE!’ or whatever. These guys aren’t even saying anything new. Didn’t Megadeth do something like this before the Cosmic Era?”

                “…you actually listen to that prehistoric stuff?” Agnes asked, skeptically.

                “I needed a hobby, alright? I had to take extra credit in the academy history courses ‘cause I slacked off a few times. Did a project on pre-CE heavy metal.”

                “I’m not shocked you’re a metalhead, Shinn,” Hilda teased.

                “Yeah, his head is pretty thick!” Agnes quipped.

                “Low-hanging fruit, Agnes. If you’re going to insult our boyfriend, be creative,” Lunamaria said, sighing.

                “Anyway, they probably will do well for themselves. PLANTs put out good musicians. Not much else to do in space, really, except shop and heat up rations,” Shinn admitted, ignoring the insult.

                “The PLANTs really are kinda like big shopping malls, aren’t they?” Agnes said.

                “Kinda, honestly.”

                “Anyway, what are we doing tonight?” Lunamaria asked.

                “Well, Kira says we’ve got shore leave to go into Tokyo, as we’re heading there for a conference in a few days,” Hilda said. “Y’all want to hit up Shibuya?”

                “Yeah, but only for shopping. Pretty much none of us can drink,” Shinn groused.

                “Relax. I’ll buy some sake, we’ll do shots back on the Millennium,” Hilda reassured. “Say, you ever had Habushu? I think Shinn’d like it.”

                “No, what’s that?” Shinn asked.

                “It’s Okinawan sake. They kill a pit viper in it and let the venom seep in for a month to twenty years, then they serve it as shots. Hits like a silver bullet and according to legend…well, let’s just say you’ll be making the ladies very happy in bed!” Hilda said, gleefully.

                “Eww, there’s a snake in it? Gross!” Agnes cried.

                “Still, it’d be fun seeing if there’s any truth to that old legend,” Lunamaria said, snickering.

                Shinn turned crimson and felt his SEED mode activating, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

                --

                That night, Kira lay back in his bedroom with Lacus.

                “So,” Lacus said. “How did your long-overdue-but-not-really apology go?”

                “He laughed at me. Said all of it made him glad he wasn’t a Coordinator, and that while I sucked at apologizing years ago, he could tell I meant it by the fact I wouldn’t stop talking.”

                “That’s exactly what I expected,” Lacus said, teasingly.

                Kira sighed.

                “Do I take myself entirely too seriously, Lacus?”

                “You do, but I struggle with that too. You know that,” Lacus said, gently massaging his shoulders.

                “Do me a favour, love. If I ever start talking like Rau Le Creuset, drop me off the nearest bridge into the coldest water you can find,” Kira said.

                “You talk too much, but you don’t have his maniacal quality. Sorry,” Lacus deadpanned.

                “Well, thank heaven for that, at least.”

                “You also apologize too much to be him.”

                Kira sighed.

                “Do you want to see what’s on TV? I feel a little flame-grilled and I’m not even standing next to Agnes for once.”

                Lacus laughed, and as she turned on the TV, the laugh faded. On the local news channel, there was an interview with All We Like Sheep.

                “Colin, tell us all about the new album. We’ve been playing it non-stop in the studio! It’s so vicious—there’s real emotion here,” said the presenter.

                “We don’t do fake, pandering feelings. We’re not pop princesses with cute, merchandisable robot armies. We don’t get upstaged by slutty cosplayers of ourselves. We’re all from the hard, ugly part of ZAFT, and that’s where our truth comes from,” Colin said. “Take our drummer. Sidney Ames. He was told he was barely a Coordinator and spent five years in jail when he broke a Zala supporter’s jaw clean off. There, he learned he was really good at beating the shit out of things. So, he served in the Second Bloody Valentine War.”

                The spiky blond grinned.

                “I’d do it all again, too. Every single blow. Perfect hits. Bass and snare.”

                “There’s a song on this album that’s got people talking—[Rau Was Right]. Dish with us. Do you really believe that?”

                “Look, Rau Le Creuset is a controversial figure—but can you really say he didn’t have the single biggest influence on this waste of a planet?” Colin asked. “Every single major political player either knew him or served under him. We have people who are his direct relatives all over. And you know what? He was right. We’re ruled by nepotism and idiocy, people desperate to make more parasites like Al Da Flaga and Lord Djibril. Natural, Coordinator—all they care about is their bottom line. If that’s what life has become, Rau was right to want it all gone,” Colin explained.

                “And would you count yourself in with this idea of humanity all being trash?” the presenter asked, a bead of sweat rolling down his face.

                Colin, meanwhile, remained cool as a cucumber under his mask.

                “Absolutely, but—I don’t see myself as a plastic bottle, or an old beer can. You see, I’m a cockroach. I am the thing that eats this world away, rots it, digests it, breeds more decay in its wake. Nobody wants me around. Nobody cared who I was. I wear a mask because my face doesn’t matter. It’s someone else’s, not mine.”

                “One more question,” said the presenter, who was now desperately looking around for a commercial break. “There’s a lot of people who’d love to see you play a show with Lacus opening for you. What are your thoughts?”

                “I say the skank should do what she does best—look pretty. But damn if we’d ever share a stage with her. All that peace and love crap that gets the same people who pull a gun on each other the moment the food runs low kumbayahing over her movie soundtrack pop, gag me. Oh, I’m so relatable! I’m just a quirky pink-haired girl! Never mind that my parents were loaded and I was bred to be basically a simp’s idea of a goddess!” Colin taunted.

                Lacus turned off the TV in disgust. Tears flooded her eyes.

                “Lacus—” Kira began, reaching out.

                “Is…is that what people really think of me…?” Lacus asked, choking.

                “They’re brats. Don’t pay attention to a damn word,” Kira growled. “They haven’t done anything to make the world better. They just think they’re so damn smart because they can shock and offend people. He really is a cockroach. The more I see him, the more I want to stomp him flat to teach him some manners.”

                Lacus clung to Kira tightly.

                “Oh, love, I love when you get protective…but like you said, he’s nobody. Just some angry young punk. I…I do get letters, sometimes, from people like that. It makes me sad. They hate seeing joy of any kind in the world because they think it’s making fun of them.”

                “Doesn’t your security intercept them?” Kira asked.

                “They do…but I read them anyway…at least, the ones that aren’t coated in toxic substances.”

                “Wow, we really are alike, huh? Taking on the hatred of others and hoping we can fix it,” Kira said, rubbing her back.

                “Yeah…and you know, that’s the sad thing. I’m sure those guys have been through hell. I just…I don’t get why you’d become so mean. Why wouldn’t you want to make sure no one else suffers?”

                Kira sighed softly.

                “It’s never easy to tell what makes people think cruelty is the answer. If I had to guess, though…I think Colin has never been loved by anyone. That line about his face not being his own…it reminded me so much of Rau. I think the guy looks up to Rau not even because he thinks Rau’d like him, but because he feels just as alone in the world. I think he’s scared to hope. I think that’s why he hates you, too. He thinks you haven’t suffered—that you’re just like all the unconcerned counselors he probably had back at the academy. Telling him to paint smileys everywhere and bury all his pain under a face that doesn’t make the world uncomfortable.”

                Lacus whimpered softly.

                “Love…I think I have to do something. I think…look, between me and Meer and all of that…I think the world needs me to be honest,” Lacus said, once she could think again.

                “You are honest.”

                “No…I meant raw. I need to be even more open with my feelings. Even the ones I hide. It’s a different world, Kira. And…after Foundation, I need people to see what bullshit the Accord idea is. I need to be more than an idol, Kira. I need to be human.”

                Lacus got up and went to a shopping bag in the corner and pulled out a CD.

                “You…bought their album?” Kira asked, looking at the CD.

                Indeed, it read “PEACE SELLS, WE AIN’T BUYIN’”

                “Even listened to it once already,” Lacus admitted. “But I think you need to hear some of this.”

                The opening track, [RAU WAS RIGHT], blasted from the speakers.

                WELCOME TO THE FUTURE

                IT AIN’T FUCKIN’ RIGHT

                COORDINATED CHAOS

                NATURAL SPITE

                VALENTINE GENOCIDE

                SO I SAY RAU WAS RIGHT

                BURN THE GALAXY

                LET GOD SORT EM OUT

                WHATEVER SURVIVES DESERVES IT

                WHAT GIVES US THE RIGHT

                TO EXIST LIKE THIS

                END THE FIGHT

                RAU WAS RIGHT

                The lyrics continued on in puerile, omnicidal fashion.

                Kira sighed.

                “And this is what passes for rock these days?”

                “But I wanted you to hear these tracks, specifically—” Lacus said, clicking over to [FREEDOM TO DIE].

                FREEDOM’S COMING FOR US ALL

                ON WINGS OF STEEL AND BLOOD

                BETTER ACCEPT YOUR FALSE MESSIAH

                OR HE’LL KILL YOU ALL FOR GOOD

                I WANT PEACE THE HYPOCRITE SCREAMS

                AS HE CARVES YOUR SKULL IN HALF

                UNCARING LASERS BURNING ALL

                AS HIS LOYAL PUPPETS LAUGH

                YOU’VE GOT FREEDOM TO DIE

                IF YOU DON’T WANNA KNEEL

                YOU’VE GOT FREEDOM TO DIE

                AS THE COMPASS REELS

                NEXT TO MAGNETIC NORTH

                THE FUCKER’S INSANE

                ALL THAT IDOL NOOKIE

                MUST HAVE ROTTED HIS BRAIN

                “Wow. Jealous incel lyrics, much?” Kira muttered. “Calling me insane while you openly admit you admire Rau Le Creuset’s genocidal tendencies?!”

                “I’m skipping the rest of that one. It only gets pettier from there,” Lacus said. “That was his diss track for you. Now have mine.”

                [HARO GOODBYE] was next, and it wasn’t much of an improvement.

                HERE COMES THE RAINBOW BRIGADE

                LITTLE SQUEAKING BALLS

                RACK THE HAROS AND BREAK EM

                IT’S YOUR CUE TO FALL

                HERE’S THE POP IDOL DICTATOR

                JUGGLING BALLS LIKE A CLOWN

                IT’S JUST WHAT SHE’S USED TO

                SHE’S NOT SO GOOD UNDER THAT GOWN

                ALL THOSE SMILING ROBOT FACES

                ALL THAT EMPTY POP STAR SMILE

                I’D LIKE TO FUCKING BREAK EM

                AND END ALL THIS DENIAL

                SO HARO GOODBYE

                IT’S ALL YOU CAN SAY

                YOU ACT SO CUTE

                THEN YOU MAKE EM ALL PAY

                FOR INSULTING YOUR NAIVETE

                FOR INSULTING YOUR STYLE

                YOU PREACH FOR PEACE

                WHILE KIRA KILLS ALL THE WHILE

                Lacus sighed and switched off the stereo.

                “It goes on. It says again and again the same things. I’m a vacuous, empty-headed slut who orders the death of countless people while smiling and preaching blind positivity. You’re a borderline genocidal lunatic who screams about peace as he lasers millions to death. It’s petty, jealous, and incredibly surface-level criticism of a vastly complicated series of conflicts.”

                “Does anyone else get called out on this album, or is it just us?” Kira asked.

                “Shinn gets a few callouts in a couple tracks. Calling him ‘Durandal’s little bitch’ and an ‘impulsive power bottom with a god complex.’”

                “God, don’t let him hear that,” Kira deadpanned. “We really would be steeped in blood over petty criticism then.”

                “I’m going to do a live AMA tomorrow,” Lacus said.

                Kira fell off the couch.

                “SAY WHAT?!” he exclaimed.

--

                Yzak Joule sighed in the ZAFT Intelligence office. He wondered, in fact, why ZAFT had an intelligence office, as it rarely showed much, if any. The files he’d inherited from his predecessor resembled an office that had already been ransacked. What wasn’t out of order had never been in order to begin with. There were gaps in records he could have parked his Duel Blitz in. There were files so redacted that he could have pasted them on the wall and made a convincing drawing of a zebra.

                In short: after several genocidal, incompetent governments, all run by paranoiacs, it sucked being the guy having to put together a functional democracy.

                And this wasn’t even touching the fact that he’d been told that a day ago, in Shinjuku, one of his agents had taken a bullet to the head and muttered “Project Lucifer…” before dying.

                Punching a button on his cluttered desk, Yzak sighed.

                “Dearka, get in here, if you have a moment.”

                Moments later, Dearka Elsman arrived at his desk.

                “You wanted to see me, Yzak?”

                “Yeah. This…God. This is a mess.”

                Dearka shook his head and sighed.

                “Tell me something I don’t’ know, old friend. Anything I can do specifically?”

                “I’d say get me a bottle of sake and make a night of it, but I have a dead body on my hands,” Yzak remarked.

                “Wait, here, or—” Dearka asked, slightly alarmed.

                “No, no, not here. One of my agents was shot in Shinjuku last week and said something about a Project Lucifer before dying. Guess what. It’s not in the files.”

                “You’ve searched everything? No mention of this project anywhere?” Dearka asked.

                “Well…there is one mention of Lucifer, but it seems to just be a random word in a file. If you look at Rau Le Creuset’s mostly redacted file—even when you restore it—several lines down, someone’s written LUCIFER.”

                “Commentary?” Dearka deadpanned.

                “That’s what I thought, but these files were only open to intelligence agents and sufficiently classified personnel. If someone made a joke edit, they’d have been discharged at best—disappeared at worst. I think one of our agents was onto something. I think whatever Project Lucifer is, it has to do with our late CO.”

                “Hmm. Well, I think I can get you your bottle of sake, and help with this case,” Dearka remarked.

                “Wait, how?” Yzak asked.

                “We’re going to Golden Gai, Yzak. You want rumours? You want info? We’re going bar crawling and seeing where our dead agent went.”

                Yzak looked at the papers all over his desk. They weren’t looking any more attractive.

                “Alright. Meet you by the shuttle in ten?”

                “See you there, Yzak.”

--

                “The album launch party’s tomorrow,” said Sidney Ames, as he walked into the dingy offices of All We Like Sheep. “You rested, boss?”

                Colin Nora sat up in his chair, sighing.

                “Rested as I’m gonna be. It’s the rest of the world that should be worried about the party.”

                “You’ve got a hell of a show planned, Colin,” said the bassist, as she painted a line of black lipstick into a twisted Glasgow smile.

                “Thanks, Courtney. You ready for your solo?” Colin asked.

                “I’d love to solo you tonight,” Courtney teased.

                “Love can wait ‘til after death.”

                “You’re no fun, boss…”

                The guitarist, half-asleep, woke up.

                “Ugh…is it showtime yet?”

                “Not yet, Kagan. Get some rest,” Courtney said, gently.

                “I wanted to show you something, Courtney. I know you want to sate…well, your baser urges, but I think these toys will impress you about as much,” Colin said.

                Walking with her into a hangar, the lights flicked on to reveal an assortment of Mobile Suits.

                “Ooh, which one’s mine?” Courtney squealed.

                “I’ve assigned you the Providence ZAKU. I know you like to be all over a situation, and that cute little mind of yours knows all the angles,” Colin said.

                Courtney blushed.

                “You sure know what to say to a girl…”

                A black and purple ZAKU sat in the left corner, adorned with a DRAGOON arsenal looking very much like the late Rau Le Creuset’s.

                “As for the rest of us…I’ve given Sidney the EFREET, good old sleepy head Kagan the KAMPFER…”

                He looked up at a massive crimson suit that looked for all the world like Rau’s old CGUE, but twice the size, and clutching a massive rifle and axe. It had a shield that looked like the Calamity Gundam’s.

                “I’m taking the SAZABI.”

                Courtney squinted. Something was there she couldn’t quite make out.

                “Wait, what’s that massive thing? And I ain’t talkin’ about what’s in your pants.”

                “Oh, that? That’s the surprise. And, well—I’m not spoiling that ‘til the launch party! AHAHAHAHAHA!”

Chapter Text

The fading daylight had already settled into an uneasy sunset above the skies of Shinjuku by the time Yzak and Dearka had landed.

                “So, as I was saying, Dearka, ZAFT’s been supporting the remains of the Eurasian Federation after Blue Cosmos and Foundation both screwed it up. They want me to put together a new Task Force X to protect it. The main arm of the Federation’s low on funds lately, so state support budgets are lower than ever. They wanted Blue Cosmos gone, but that also nuked half their funds. Pained them like hell to do it, but they called me for help.”

                “And hell, the Atlantic Federation’s never liked the Eurasian one. Who would we even put on a team like that? What happened to the old Task Force X?”

                “Turns out the leader was a failed Ultimate Coordinator and went mercenary. Apparently, he used to want to kill Kira.”

                Dearka laughed.

                “That’s nothing special, we all wanted to kill him at one point or another.”

                Yzak choked on a laugh.

                “God, right? I don’t know if it was all political, or the fact I couldn’t stand him moralizing mid-fight so much. But…much as I hate to admit it some days, he was right the whole time.”

                “I won’t lie. I kind of envy that kind of optimism he’s got,” Dearka said, walking towards the gloomy neon night skyline of Shinjuku. “It’s a far cry from our world, isn’t it?”

                “Well, that’s the spy game. He’s James Bond—the girl, the gadgets, the press—and we’re Golgo 13 at best.”

                “You’re no hitman, Yzak.”

                “But we still put enough people in body bags,” Yzak said, sighing. “Whether we kill ‘em ourselves or not.”

                “That, regrettably, is the business of keeping the world at peace. I think Kira would even admit as much. I admire his non-lethal style, but even he’s been forced to kill.”

                “At any rate, we’re just here to drink and gather info. No one should be dying tonight,” Yzak said, almost to reassure himself as much as stating a fact.

                “Don’t tempt fate, Yzak. We tempt it enough,” Dearka deadpanned, as they crossed under the worn metal gate of Golden Gai.

                “Where to?” Yzak asked, taking in the rows upon rows of bars. “It’s like a candy store for alcoholics here.”

                “Bar Plastic Model,” Dearka replied. “I’ve got a contact we’re meeting up with.”

                “Bar…Plastic Model? Is this some kind of otaku joint? We’re going to stick out like sore thumbs.”

                “What, you with your white hair? Unlikely. Anyway, this isn’t some maid café. It’s just a place that plays throwback music and there’s some old anime art on the walls. You won’t be out of place—ZAFT officers drink there often on visits to Earth.”

                “Speaking of plastic models, did you see that the PLANTS are selling model kits of our mobile suits?”

                “What? Seriously? You getting a cut of the rights?” Dearka asked.

                “Nope. Whoever’s making them is getting a serious chunk of change. The kids love ‘em. Feels weird seeing a little kid with a model death machine, but whatever.”

                “Please tell me you didn’t buy one of mine.”

                “Okay, I won’t tell you what I’m getting you for Christmas,” Yzak teased.

                Dearka sighed.

                “What’s the scale? I don’t have a lot of shelf space, but I do like a detailed figure…”

                “Well, I did get the 1/100. Figured you’d want an opening cockpit and a little pilot figure,” Yzak said, smiling.

                Dearka smiled. It was a ridiculous little idea, but there was undeniable charm to it.

                “This bar’s on the corner,” Yzak said, when they arrived. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to meet closer in?”

                “This bar’s a smaller one. Owner streams music. People are more careful here and more private. The music distracts from the conversations.”

                “Huh. Since when are you all about cover and distractions?”

                “Since I got a job watching your ass,” Dearka deadpanned. “Now, come on in. This place fills up quick, and I want to meet our informant.”

                “What’ll it be?” asked the bartender, as they sat down.

                “Asahi,” said Dearka.

                “Highball,” said Yzak.

                “Lychee soju,” said another voice.

                A figure in a dour beige jacket had joined them.

                “I want to have a pure time,” said Dearka to the man.

                “Everyone’s a noble mind,” the man responded.

                “He’s on the level,” Dearka said to Yzak. “You said you might know something about what’s going on in Shinjuku?” Dearka said, turning back to the man.

                “Well, let’s just say my information comes from Andrew Waltfeld,” said the man, an orange shirt peeking out from his collar.

                “I’ll say it does. Passing about as well as always, huh?” Dearka deadpanned.

                “Hey, cloak and dagger stuff is your department,” Andrew complained. “Anyway, I do have something interesting…”

                He tossed a copy of the CD single for All We Like Sheep’s new album onto the counter.

                “That hacky metal band?” Yzak asked.

                “Check the liner notes,” Andrew said.

                The liner notes were mostly void of anything interesting, but a few lines had been circled.

                ORIGINAL PIANO MELODY ON [FREEDOM TO DIE] BY nICol A

                [RAU WAS RIGHT] dedicated to DP 13: ANGEL OF MUSIC

                Recorded at Morningstar Studios

                “You boys up on your religions?” Andrew asked.

                “No. Never saw a reason to believe in a god, not in the world we live in,” Yzak said.

                Dearka sighed.

                “Man, you’re a fun drinking buddy.”

                “Well, guess who the Angel of Music was in Christianity,” Andrew said.

                “Lucifer,” Dearka replied.

                “Too right. Also called Morning Star.”

                Yzak’s eyes jumped.

                “nICol A?” he said, swallowing hard. “Like…Nicol Amalfi? He died before any of his works could be published! Didn’t he?!”

                “What’s with the weird writing there?” Dearka asked. “Everything’s in caps or lowercase, but this is a mix…?”

                “I think it’s an anagram,” Andrew said. “I think…I think Colin is really Nicol.”

                Yzak growled.

                “This isn’t funny! Nicol’s dead! We buried him! We were fighting to avenge him! And now some sick little edgelord going around gloating about how he’d like to kill the whole universe is pretending to be him?!”

                Andrew sighed.

                “I don’t think he’s necessarily pretending.”

                “What are you on about?” Dearka asked. “Have you been hitting the sauce too much?”

                “First drink of the night. Been apple juice and jerky the whole time,” Andrew replied. “DP 13 is probably supposed to be OP 13—Opus 13, but the DP might not be a typo. DP could refer to ‘disciple’—like the 13^th disciple.”

                “Judas…” Dearka realized. “Who would be the Judas?”

                “Rau,” Yzak finished. “Who betrayed us all, after all?”

                “But that doesn’t make sense!” Dearka protested. “You’re saying a dead, angelic young man is now a raging, vengeful musician, and you’re also saying the equally dead Rau Le Creuset’s involved?”

                “The queen of Foundation was involved with the cloning processes that gave us the Ultimate Coordinators and the Accords,” Andrew replied, calmly.

                “So?” Yzak asked.

                “Well, if a brand-new country we didn’t know about could be run by someone that deep into our pasts…imagine what Rau could have been capable of.”

                “Shit,” Dearka muttered.

                “Okay, but none of this answers just who killed my agent, and how he knew about all this,” Yzak pointed out. “Where’d you get the single anyway, Andrew?”

                “I went to recover the agent. That was all that was left. Word on the street is that any bodies that turn up around here? Well…you ever hear of the Tomino Family?”

                “The last Yakuza?” Dearka asked.

                “Oh, you’re sharp! Yeah, them. They’ve been running a small organ-trafficking racket. Mostly dead bodies as the cops don’t really care. Every once in a while a stiff turns up, and it disappears into one of their vans. But based on what I could tell—he’d been taken tonight. Must have stashed his body until they could grab it.”

                “They’d have a hideout near here. I know they would,” Yzak said.

                “We going loud?” Dearka asked.

                “If it comes to it. Andrew, where’d you last see the body?”

                “Near bar Death Match in Hell. Blood trail led from there to the street across. Looked like it had been dragged.”

                “Where are we going, then?” Dearka asked.

                “Well, Dearka…I’d say we’re going to Hell. Pay the man here…and let’s go give the devil his due.”

--

                “Holy shit, this stuff is the bomb, Hilda!” a blushing Shinn said, back on the Millennium.

                “I still don’t like that it’s staring at me. Even if it’s dead,” Agnes said, squirming, though she was already two shots in.

                “Well, did the former Valkyrie just say she didn’t like someone making eyes at her?” Hilda teased.

                “Stoooop!”  

                “Hey, be nice, Hilda. She’s been good all night,” Lunamaria said, a slight hitch in her tone being the only sign she was inebriated.

                “How much more shore leave we got, anyway?” Shinn asked. “Not gonna lie…gonna need tomorrow morning for the hangover, and tomorrow afternoon for shopping.”

                “Three more days! It’s like being on vacation!” Hilda said, grinning.

                “Aren’t we, like, always on vacation if there’s not a crisis going on?” Agnes asked.

                “Eh, but we still gotta stay on base, mostly. Especially if we’re in flight. It’d be a hell of a nasty drop.”

                “Not exactly queen of comedy, are you?” Agnes snarked. “Even Shinn tells funnier jokes.”

                “Okay, one more round of shots?” Hilda asked, ignoring the insult. “I don’t wanna put Shinn in a coma, but—I do want to see his reaction.”

                “Okay, one more!” Lunamaria said, enthusiastically, but something deep down in her shivered.

                It wasn’t just the dead-eyed, vicious glare of the snake.

                There was something wrong in the air, but nothing pointed to it.

                --

                “We’re live, Lacus,” Kira said, from behind the camera.

                “Welcome to my stream!” Lacus said, cheerfully. “In case this one gets pulled after a few asks—I’ve got a few backups ready. So, we may be moving from stream to stream—but don’t worry! I will answer everything I can!”

                A question popped onscreen.

                “Why’d I do this?” Lacus replied. “Well, honestly—I’ve been listening to All We Like Sheep’s new album! And I heard their criticism, and you know what? It’s fair. I am, at least on the surface, a pretty constructed and unapproachable person. I have leaned hard into my image, and I can tell a lot of people would prefer someone, I dunno, more real.”

                More questions.

                “Do I like metal? It’s not really my thing, but I can appreciate well-made music. It’s clear Colin has musical talent!”

                “I’m very fond of soju! It’s terrible, honestly. I can get totally drunk some nights. Kira tucks me in after and cleans up if I get sick—though I do try!”

                “Ooh, that’s a daring question! All my lingerie is pink! Shocking, I know!”

                “Who tops? We switch! But Kira loooves when I top!”

                “Have I tried drugs--? Uh…nothing more than weed. I know, I know. Kinda boring. But I have to keep my voice in shape!”

                Thousands of questions. Five stream changes, as Lacus got increasingly explicit.

                By the time the fifth stream was winding down, it was 3 AM, and Lacus was visibly drunk and exhausted.

                “Okay, so I have loved this opportunity to be raw and honest with you—and I hope that some more of you can see a bit more about the girl behind the pretty pink mask, okay? I gotta hit the sack, now—Kira’s been way too patient waiting up for me. But, I love you all, and I hope to hear from you again! Say goodnight, Mr. Pink!”

                Her pink Haro bounced up and down.

                “Goodnight, Haro! Goodnight, Haro!”

--

                “Are you watching this crap, boss?!” Kagan raged, now bolt-awake from seeing Courtney streaming Lacus’ AMA. “She’s gonna make us look like whiners!”

                “Relax, Kagan,” Colin said. “It seems I underestimated her. No matter. After all, classical music we associate with easy listening and old people and soft, weak children…but ‘The Rite of Spring’ caused riots at its first performance. Clearly, the lady’s got steel under all that silk. She’ll need more than that to stop our big debut.”

                “Well, well, I did love seeing she’s every bit as slutty as I expected. God, what a freak! Good luck bouncing back from that—four streaming bans in one night?” Courtney said, smirking.

                “Well, if the goth girl ain’t calling the kettle black,” Sidney snarked. “Still, ya make a good point. We ain’t got nothin’ to worry about from Lacus.”

                “Just Kira,” Colin said, calmly. “For all I made him out to be a loose cannon—he’s still the Ultimate Coordinator, and you don’t get that label without making a few power plays. Lacus is an Accord, but she shuns her power. All the better. For I am the shadow of all Accord. The Dissonance to Harmony. I am the Discord. The minor key change that turns the wedding march into a funeral dirge.”

                Colin laughed softly.

                “Oh, Rau…if you could only see the man I’ve become…”

--

                The hellish red lights of Death Match in Hell almost camouflaged Yzak and Dearka’s ZAFT uniforms.

                Almost, because two toughs decided to make an issue the moment they stepped in.

                “Didn’t think freaks like you were good enough for normal booze,” said one man in a garish suit and sunglasses.

                “At 666 yen, any booze is good booze,” Dearka replied. “We’ve got no issue with you.”

                “We’ve got a few with you,” said the man’s friend, in an equally awful velvet suit.

                “Hey, you two make trouble, I’m throwing you out. Cops are right around the corner,” said the bartender. “Now, are you going to have another drink, or do I have to act?”

                “Like you would. We’re Tomino family, asshole! Nobody touches us!” said the man in velvet.

                “Then you’re just the people we came to see,” Yzak said. “Bartender, get my friend here a nice cold screwdriver. He’s parched. As for you two Tomino punks…well, I think I can handle you without spoiling my dear friend Dearka’s night.”

                “I knew you were a Coordinator, but I didn’t think you’d coordinate your own funeral!” said the other yakuza.

                “No, I’m arranging yours,” Yzak said, as he stepped outside.

                Immediately, the two yakuza leapt on him. They were drunk and clumsy—too used to preying on debtors and the desperate. Even without Yzak’s trained reflexes, he’d have easily dodged their wild haymakers and sloppy, predictable kicks.

                Yzak punched one in the throat, causing him to fall, gasping for air. This led the other to draw a knife.

                “I’ll carve another scar on your mug, pretty-boy!”

                “You couldn’t carve a pumpkin right now, you gutter trash!” Yzak responded, taking the lid of a garbage bin and hurling it into the man’s nose. The knife clattered to the ground, and Yzak leapt on it, putting it to the Yakuza’s throat as the other one backed up.

                “I’m going to only say this once,” Yzak growled. “Answer me, or your buddy gets it. And considering how expensive this ugly suit is? I’m betting he outranks you. You’ll lose a finger or two at best if your oyabun finds out you let him die.”

                “Jesus Christ, you’re sick!” the yakuza protested.

                “No, I’m from ZAFT’s intelligence division. I’m the man who cleans up the sick,” Yzak said. “Now, asking only once: where is the body of the ZAFT agent who was shot in the head last night? He had a CD on his body and his body was dragged from here.”

                “Oh god, man, I’ll tell you, just let him go! He’s sitting on ice at the backroom of the Dojima Steakhouse just three blocks from Golden Gai over in Kabukicho. Ask for Goro at the desk, he’ll take you to the body! Make sure you tell him that you want kobe for tonight, A5! That’ll get you the body no questions asked!”

                “No ambushes? How much money?” Yzak asked.

                “No ambushes! And look, we were only gonna charge a million yen, we can’t sell Coordinator organs! They don’t transplant well to non-Coordinators! Here, take my cash!”

                The yakuza threw a wad down at Yzak’s feet. Dropping his friend, Yzak collected it.

                “Very well, gentlemen. You may leave. Tell anyone, and you’ll be on ice yourselves. Do I make myself clear?”

                “Crystal! We’re outta here!”

                Yzak wandered back into the dimly lit bar, Dearka and the bartender firmly engrossed in some b-movie playing on the old TV.

                “We’ve got our body’s location, Dearka. A yakuza steakhouse in Kabukicho.”

                Dearka sighed.

                “I’m going to guess we’re not going for a nice steak dinner.”

                “Afraid not, but I’ll cook some wagyu for you back home after we settle affairs.”

                “Deal. What about our other lead?”

                “The cloning?” Yzak asked. “That’d be Colony 4. Mendel.”

                “But that’s been abandoned for years—”

                “—and rarely thoroughly searched on account of that viral outbreak. Perfect hiding spot for more of Rau’s dirty secrets.”

                Dearka paid for his drink, and Yzak left the bartender money to apologize for the disturbance.

                “We don’t take tips—” the bartender protested. “I mean, 1-yen coins if you got them to get rid of, but—”

                “Think of it as an apology for the rather loud waste disposal,” Yzak said. “We’ll be back in more peaceful times.”

--

                Kira dreamed that night of Rau once more, though their surroundings this time were infinitely less hellish.

                “My, what a day we’ve had, Kira.”

                “Yeah, you know, up until you decided to invade my headspace, it was pretty close to perfect.”

                Rau laughed.

                “I’m wounded, Kira. My feelings may never be the same.”

                “Yeah, well, imagine how everyone you hurt felt,” Kira deadpanned.

                “I don’t have to. I know, because you’re haunted by their screams. I wish it could have been otherwise. But mankind…will always choose selfishly.”

                “Right, because genocide is such a selfless action. Especially when you actively make war worse to justify doing it. You’re a self-loathing hypocrite and you’ll never be half the man Mu is.”

                “You can’t hurt me by bringing up my past, Kira, so don’t bother. I’m part of you. The thing you could hurt—it’s gone. My body is gone but my real plan remains here on earth. I live on forever in the mind of all who knew me and in the generations I touched and groomed to inherit my work.”

                “Eww. Phrasing.”

                Rau laughed.

                “Hey, it was your mind thinking it, not mine.”

                And with that, Rau vanished, leaving Kira standing on the hill, looking down at a city.

                It was only then he realized that he was looking at Tokyo, specifically Shinjuku.

                Flames devoured the city.

                --

                “Goro, please. I want some A5 kobe for dinner tonight.”

                “We don’t serve Coordinator freaks—” said the guard.

                “We’ve got a million yen.” Yzak finished, glaring.

                “Fine,” said the guard, grabbing a communicator. “Hey! Goro! We got two ZAFT freaks here. They want the stiff! Yeah, they’ve got cash!”

                Minutes later they were escorted to the backroom of the steakhouse, where a ZAFT agent missing most of his head was lying on ice.

                “God, what’d they use? A shotgun?” Dearka said, wincing.

                “Probably. Sawed-off is easy to conceal. Guns are hard to come by, but for scum…wait. I know this guy.”

                “You can tell even with his skull missing?!”

                “There’s enough of his lip left to see a telltale scar,” Yzak remarked. “Adrian Nin. He was a mole in Blue Cosmos for a while, tipping off ZAFT. At least, that’s what was on paper. In truth, he was a double, triple, who knows how many agent. We used him because he had good information, but more likely…he was paperclipped.”

                “Paperclipped?” Dearka asked.

                “When the Nazis were defeated, long before our current era, the scientists were considered too valuable to execute. Barring the worst, most were brought over to America and granted amnesty under the condition they work for America. It was called Operation Paperclip,” Yzak explained. “So, I’m willing to bet our friend Adrian Nin here knew a bit too much.”

                “Adrian Nin….Ad. Nin. Adr. Nin.”

                “Dearka, what are you saying?”

                “Adrnin. We weren’t seeing ‘admin’ on the computer’s edit log. We were seeing ‘adrnin’. Remember, ZAFT edit logs use the first three letters of your first and last name. It’s a good way of keeping edits quiet to a casual observer. And putting an r next to an n looks like an m. It’s a classic hacker trick to create fake websites—most typefaces don’t distinguish clearly between ‘rn’ and ‘m.’”

                Yzak’s jaw dropped.

                “That means—he’s the one who put ‘LUCIFER’ in Rau’s file. It means Rau was the mastermind of Project Lucifer, whatever that was!”

                “Project Lucifer?” grunted a yakuza. “God, that’s what that bitch that capped him was rambling about. Some goth freak. Thought she might have been just a call girl, but no, that girl had Coordinator freak written all over her. That some club you all freak at?”

                “Goth freak. Can you give a descriptor? Does, by any chance, she look like…this?” Dearka asked, holding up the single art.

                “That’s her! She’s some metalhead?” the yakuza asked.

                “Well, shit. Aren’t the band playing Shinjuku tomorrow?!” Dearka asked.

                “They are. And I don’t think it’s going to go the way anyone thinks—we need proof, tonight, that All We Like Sheep are Rau’s long-lost Project Lucifer. If we can get it to high command, we can get MS backup and stop whatever they’ve got planned!” Yzak said.

                “What kind of lousy name is ‘All We Like Sheep’?” muttered the yakuza.

                “All we like sheep, have gone astray, have gone astray,” Dearka sang quietly to himself. “Handel. That’s Handel’s Messiah.”

                “Nicol loved that piece. Always listened to it when relaxing or doing homework.”

                “Then this creep really is Nicol’s clone…God, what did Rau do to him?”

                “Hey, can ya clear out already?” shouted the yakuza. “We got a steakhouse to run!”

                “We’re leaving—but that is the last body you collect,” Yzak said calmly. “Do any more organ harvesting and I promise you I will pan-sear this steakhouse with a beam rifle, got it?”

                The criminals turned pale as the two agents left.

Chapter Text

“Athrun dear, did you see this? Lacus broke the internet last night,” Cagalli said.

                “I did see, Cagalli, I did,” Athrun said, still pale from watching it.

                “Wow, you—and I thought you’d be all over that kind of honesty!” Cagalli said, giggling.

                “I really could have stood to not know Kira’s favourite bedroom trick,” Athrun said.

                “Oh, same,” Cagalli remarked. “I’ve been drinking to forget that one.”

                “It’s also awkward ‘cause Lacus was my ex—” Athrun said, gagging. “Not that we were ever like that—it was a political marriage thing—but my eyes and ears.”

                “What got you worst, the number of toys she owns, or the fact Kira is a screamer?” Cagalli teased. “’Cause, man, finding out the latter…”

                “I’m going to dearly hope that Hilda wasn’t watching it.”

                “Knowing her? If she didn’t, she’ll be watching it today.”

                The phone rang.

                “Hello, Athha residence?” Cagalli said, answering.

                “Oh. My. God. What did your brother allow to happen?!”

                A distraught Shinn was on the other line.

                “Shinn’s seen it,” Cagalli whispered to Athrun, who merely put his head in his hands.

                “I take it you’ve seen it?” Shinn asked.

                “My husband may never recover,” Cagalli deadpanned.

                “I woke up, went to get breakfast, and Hilda was there grinning like a cat stealing fish. Agnes was cackling like a Halloween witch prop. And I, upon watching a highlight reel with Lunamaria, had to fight to keep breakfast down.”

                “Right?”

                “I REALLY DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW THAT THE RISING FREEDOM WAS NAMED FOR KIRA’S DICK, ALRIGHT?!”

                “Trust me, Shinn, I so badly wish I could dump bleach into my mind.”

                “I just wish we hadn’t drunk all the Habushu last night; I could have easily chugged it and ate the alcohol-soaked viper inside.”

                Cagalli laughed.

                “Someone got a little tipsy, huh?”

                “Yeah! I thought it was going to just be a fun night with a bit of a hangover after. Now it’s a hangover and I learn that Commander Yamato’s hornier than your husband!”

                “I tell people I’m not the biggest pervert I know. Nobody listens,” Athrun snarked from across the room.

                “I’m going to hope going shopping distracts me from this,” Shinn said. “You gonna call your bro up and give him hell, or--?”

                “Hah, no, this gave me plenty to laugh about,” Cagalli said. “Plus, I get why Lacus did it. All those metal meatheads have been running her down and calling her an empty-headed pop starlet. This shocked a lot of people but won over people too.”

                “Well, that’s great for Lacus, but the entire world is gonna know the world’s biggest peacekeepers are absolute freaks in the sack.”

                “There are worse things, I feel? Plus, you’re in a threesome, Shinn.”

                Shinn groaned.

                “Okay, fine, you’re right! Still TMI!”

                “Anyway, I’m sure you’ll find plenty to distract yourself with today,” Cagalli said, sweetly. “Go take the girls on a date. Let me know how it goes. You’ve got plenty of shopping and dining you can do before that big conference downtown.”

                “I’m not sure how I’ll look at sushi the same again after learning how Kira likes to eat it some nights, but…”

                “Your appetite is bulletproof. Relax.”

                “Not that bulletproof!” Shinn protested.

                “Dude. You eat ZAFT rations.”

                Shinn sighed.

                “Fair point. Anyway, I’ll let you go de-traumatize Commander Zala. Have a great day, Lady Athha.”

                “You too, Shinn!”

                --

                “Well, it’s official, Lacus. At least three parents’ groups want your head, a bunch of horny metalheads are now your second-biggest fans, and you’re the number one trend on social media. I’m number two, as ‘KIRA’S RISING FREEDOM’ is trending too,” Kira deadpanned.

                Lacus giggled.

                “Maybe I shouldn’t have shared that—”

                “It’s okay, I didn’t protest it,” Kira said, laughing sheepishly.

                It was then that he noticed his desk phone’s message alert flashing.

                “You have -ONE- new message from -SHINN ASUKA-,” the mechanical voice informed him, as he pressed the button.

                “Hoo boy,” Kira said, warily.

                “COMMANDER YAMATO, WHAT THE HELL?!” exploded the message. “WHEN WERE YOU PLANNING ON TELLING THE CREW?! EVERYONE’S NOW TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH LACUS MUST LOVE YOUR ‘RISING FREEDOM’ AND OTHER BEAM SABER BITS OF HUMOUR! I CAN’T LOOK AT THE DAMN THING ANYMORE! I SHOULD HAVE SAVED SOME LIQUOR FOR THIS MORNING! I REALLY HOPE ONE UPPING A METAL BAND WAS WORTH IT BECAUSE I AM GOING TO NEED TO NOT BE SOBER FOR TWO MORE DAYS! Oh, and congrats on the new fans, Lacus, you’re a dear—BUT STILL, TMI?!”

                Lacus fell out of her chair, sobbing with laughter, and could not get up from the floor for five minutes.

                “End of message. You have -ONE- new message from -CAGALLI ATHHA-.”

                “Hey bro! Nice to hear you’re doing well and apparently REALLY enjoying those evenings with Lacus! Oh, I saw the whole thing. Lovely bits of blackmail in there, if I were that kind of person. Still, don’t take it too hard! Athrun’s still a bit on the queasy side. Love ya! Talk to you later!”

                “End of message. You have heard all available messages. Would you like to delete them?”

                --

                “So, this is Shinjuku by day, huh? Little bright for my tastes,” Shinn groaned.

                Indeed, the blazing morning sun was doing less than pleasant things to Shinn’s hangover.

                “You can’t always be dim,” Agnes deadpanned.

                “Ha! Too right!” Hilda said, cackling.

                “Play nice, girls; I’d like him in one piece for tonight,” Lunamaria said, but even she was smiling.

                “So, where do you want to go?” Shinn asked. “We could hop the subway to Shibuya; there’s never much open in the day in Shinjuku unless you like high fashion.”

                “I know some of the malls occasionally have flea markets and things if you like vintage goods,” Lunamaria said.

                “There’s also Godzilla stuff, if you’re dorky enough to like that,” Agnes said, but the blush gave it away.

                “You’re a Godzilla fan? Huh. And you think you know a girl,” Shinn said. “Original’s still the best.”

                “I was more of a Shin Godzilla fan,” Agnes said.

                “Acceptable second choice.”

                --

                “Ugh, why are we still awake, Yzak?” Dearka complained, from a nearby balcony.

                “Because, Dearka, today is the rough date and time that All We Like Sheep are supposed to appear in Shinjuku. And call me paranoid, but I have a feeling they aren’t dropping by to play a set,” said Yzak, looking out of binoculars.

                “And we are--?”

                “Making sure that these guys don’t pull anything stupid,” Yzak said.

                “With what for weapons?” Dearka asked.

                “I have a sniper rifle if comes to it. Other than that…. Well, we can call in ZAFT backup. But first, I have other backup to call—well, more of a helping hand, really.”

                “What kind of helping hand?”

                “An old friend.”

                Yzak punched a few buttons on his phone and made the call.

                “Hello, Athrun. How are you? I’m afraid this isn’t exactly a social call.”

                Athrun groaned on the other end.

                “Yzak. I can assure you Orb isn’t harbouring any fugitives.”

                “Ha. No, this is about a favour you owe me.”

                “What favour could I possibly—”

                “It involved Endymion, a stolen GINN, and several compromising pictures of you and Meer—”

                “Okay, that one. Fine. What’s the favour?” Athrun asked, sighing.

                “Remember the Mendel colony?”

                “Yes. It’s a derelict. What on earth could—”

                “Do you remember Nicol Amalfi?” Yzak asked, calmly.

                “Of course I do! But what do the two have to—”

                “We believe a metal musician who may or may not be a terrorist is a clone of Nicol. We have evidence to support that Rau Le Creuset took some of his DNA and cloned him at Mendel. But we don’t have the vital evidence, which we strongly believe is at Mendel, well-hidden. Could you be a dear and take the Infinite Justice up there and go poking around?” Yzak said.

                “I’ll do it, but why can’t you?”

                “Because one of my agents ate a bullet to the head courtesy of our metalhead friend’s bassist, and I’m here to hunt down the bassist after making sure her bandmates don’t get any bright ideas about continuing their murder spree.”

                Athrun sighed heavily.

                “Fine. I’ll tell Cagalli lunch will have to wait.”

                “If it wasn’t a matter of galactic proportions I wouldn’t have asked, Athrun. Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

                “Yeah, well, buy me dinner sometime if you get five seconds away from your Aston Martin, 007,” Athrun snarked.

                “Wiseass.”

                “Uh, Yzak? You’re gonna want to see this. Why the hell is there smoke coming from that park?”

                “Dearka, we gotta move. Steal a car if you have to, we’re going to need to get in there.”

                An explosion rocked the city streets, knocking both men off their feet.

                --

                “So you thought you might like to go the show,” said Colin.

                “To feel a warm thrill of confusion,” said Kagan, sleepily.

                “A space-cadet glow,” Courtney spat.

                “Now, tell, me—is something eluding you people?” Sidney said. “Ain’t this what you expected to see?”

                “Lacus ain’t well—she’s fuckin’ Kira in a hotel!”

                “So we came along as the surrogate band!”

                “It’s time to find out where humanity stands!” they shouted in unison.

                As the smoke cleared, the Providence ZAKU, SAZABI, EFREET, and KAMPFER’s monoeyes glowered down at the screaming, panicking citizens.

                “Citizens of Shibuya, we are All We Like Sheep. You wanted a Peace Sells, We Ain’t Buyin’ tour? HERE YOU ARE! LIVE AND IN THE FLESH! And we—we are gonna bring the house down—all of planet Earth! AHAHAHAHA!” Colin crowed.

                The carnage began in moments as they opened fire on buildings at random. Sirens wailed, police units were mobilized—and it all felt too late.

                Down below, Shinn Asuka was scrambling for his phone.

                “Kira, I’m gonna need you to come down to Shinjuku right now, we’re under attack! Send all the Mobile Suits! Mobilize EVERYONE!”

                --

                Kira received the call almost instantly. Scrambling to hit the alarm, he radioed Albert Heinlein.

                “Albert, we’re gonna need every MS deployed to Shinjuku. Parachute them in if you have to, we haven’t got the pilots to drive them all—they’re all Coordinator-tuned, and our Naturals have to pilot whatever Daggers and Windams we’ve got on hand.”

                “Relax, Kira. Already prepped something in case we had a repeat of the Foundation DMZ incident. I’m calling it the ROLOMS. Remote-Operated Launcher Of Mobile Suits. They’ll be shot off the catapult as usual, but there’s a dummy autopilot pack hooked up to the head and chest. It’ll steer them to the safest possible location next to the appropriate pilot—to avoid problems, they’ve been DNA-coded to their pilots,” Albert replied.

                “Where’d you whip that up?” Kira asked.

                “Orb sent some of their remote operation tech after the Foundation Conflict. I tinkered with it in my spare time.”

                “You have that?”

                “Tell no one.”

                “Okay, let’s get those suits mobilized, then. I’ll lead the charge—”

                Lacus appeared in the doorway.

                “Kira, love—I want to go too.”

                “But we haven’t got a mobile suit—”

                “Eh, let her take the Perfect Strike,” Mu said, sliding up to her. “I should fly off to Orb. They gotta know about this, and maybe if your sister forgives me, I can get the Akatsuki back. I tried calling—Athrun is out, and Cagalli’s got her head deep in a sea of paperwork.”

                “Okay, love—you ready for this?” Kira said.

                “Always. Let’s go protect the innocent,” Lacus said.

                --

                “Is this the best resistance humanity has to offer?” Kagan said, laughing as he blew the heads off Federation Daggers with his KAMPFER’s shotgun. “We dug these out of the mothballs and we’re blowing ‘em clean away!”

                Just then, a warning shot from the Millennium landed between their assembled suits.

                “You want resistance, ya punks? Well you’re gonna love me!” Shinn screamed, flying in in his Destiny, sword drawn.

                “Oh, my…” Colin said, cackling, the eye of his SAZABI glowing ominously. DRAGOONS deployed from his shoulders, zapping at Shinn, who dodged effortlessly. “The bitch is back! Hey, I’m feelin’ like a cappella, what do you say, people?”

                “Hell yeah,” Sidney said. “A one, a two, a one-two-three-four—”

                WELL IF IT AIN’T DURANDAL’S BITCH

                A SISTER COMPLEX TWINK WITH AN ITCH

                TO KILL ALL FREEDOM, IT’S BETTER THAN SEX

                HE’S THE POWER BOTTOM WITH A GOD COMPLEX

                “Okay, that’s it. Now you die,” Shinn said, swinging wildly at the EFREET, who brought down his two clubs and shattered the anti-ship sword.

                “Way to prove my point, edgelord,” Sidney teased, before kicking Shinn down and hurling a few kunai into his wings.

                “Argh—

                “Hands off my boyfriend!” Lunamaria cried, diving in with the Impulse, catching the KAMPFER’s attention.

                “Well, if it ain’t the Hawke. Time for a little skeet shooting. Hope ya like birdshot!” Kagan said, laughing and drooling from the slaughter.

                She fired, but missed as Kagan dove out of the way.

                “Your aim still sucks!”

                “Wasn’t aiming for you—” she said.

                A water tower began to fall, but one of Courtney’s DRAGOON’s vaporized it.

                “Come on, birdie! We’ve got friends!” Kagan taunted. “No Looney Tunes tricks. I’m hunting wabbit.”

                And firing point blank, he annihilated the Force pack, sending her careening wingless to the ground.

                “LUNA!” Shinn screamed.

                “That’s it. You fucked with the wrong threesome,” Agnes spat, charging in the Immortal Justice.

                Instantly, the Providence ZAKU was in front of her.

                “Agnes…Giebenrath…” Courtney raged, her eyeliner running. “Everyone back the fuck off, this slut is mine. Come, Moonlight Valkyries. Die for me. Let me kill you like you killed my dreams.”

                “Do I know you?!” Agnes spat.

                “Oh, you know me,” Courtney said, firing lasers wildly, Agnes only barely keeping up. “Creepy Courtney. ‘Creepy Courtney, such a slut, thinks she’s hot shit ‘cause she’s got a fat butt. Creepy Courtney, all dressed in black, can’t keep a guy ‘cause she’s shit in the sack—‘”

                Agnes froze.

                “No…no...God, it can’t be you—it can’t be—”

                “But it is! Your past has caught up with you, Moonlight Valkyrie! You stole my boyfriend. You mocked me every single day. You humiliated me constantly because you were jealous and now I’m going to destroy you the way you destroyed my life!”

                The memories flooded back to Agnes. All the cruel things she’d said, every time she’d “accidentally” tripped her, or flirted with her boyfriend, or spread nasty rumours, or left threats in her locker.

                Stopping, she hung her Gundam’s head.

                “Okay. Destroy me,” Agnes said.

                “Agnes, what the hell?!” Shinn exclaimed, fighting to unpin himself from the ground.

                “I mean it! Destiny Dog, stay out of this! This is my sin, now I have to face it!” Agnes protested.

                Opening up her cockpit, she stood there and faced her former victim.

                “Everyone else back off,” Agnes said. “I just want to be alone with Courtney. I can’t atone for it all—but I can make it up to her.”

                The other band members kept watch as Courtney opened up her Providence ZAKU. Crossing the now-linked cockpit bridges, Courtney stared daggers into Agnes’ eyes.

                “You aren’t wearing it. The stupid Moonlight Valkyrie outfit. Where is it?!”

                Agnes hung her head.

                “I burned my uniform and scraped the paint from my helmet. I have no name. I am only Agnes, now.”

                “And you…you finally start sleeping with losers, and you expect that to make this alright?” Courtney spat, ripping the helmet from her head. “You’re still the same pigtailed little bitch you’ve always been! You can’t fix what you did to me!”

                “I know. Why do you think I’m not fighting?”

                Courtney froze, looking into Agnes’ eyes.

                “Courtney, it’s clearly a distraction!” Sidney protested. “Quit screwin’ around!”

                Courtney drew a boxcutter from her pocket.

                “Remember this? Remember how you said you had no idea how someone carved ‘SKANK’ into my locker door? Or how my portrait had its eyes cut out on the student wall?”

                “No…please…” Agnes begged, before stopping. “You know what? Go ahead and cut my eyes out. I don’t deserve to look on you after what I did.”

                “What? Do you get off on this?” Courtney asked, unnerved by the response. “Look—I—”

                BLAM.

                Courtney’s leg was struck by a sniper bullet from a mile off.

                “It IS a trap!” Courtney raged. “I won’t rip them both out. I still want you to see what I’ll do to your new toys, you skank!”

                And slicing downward, she blinded Agnes’ right eye, limping back to her cockpit.

                Agnes sobbed, clutching at her blind eye, only stopping when Hilda flew up beside in her GYAN Strom and took her into the cockpit.

                --

                “Damn, I missed,” Yzak muttered.

                “She won’t fight well with a limp,” Dearka consoled him.

                “Get ZAFT on the line. This is war.”

                --

                From above, the wings of the Rising Freedom and the Perfect Strike shadowed the assembled band, landing in front of the wounded, damaged COMPS pilots.

                “This is Supreme Commander Kira Yamato—”

                “And Lacus Clyne.”

                “Lay down your weapons and disembark your suits, or we open fire.”

                “Hey everyone,” Colin said, laughing. “It’s the Boner Gundam and the Perfect Slag! What, you couldn’t paint it pink? Oh, I’m sorry, that’s Captain Horndog’s girlfriend’s colour!”

                “Hello, Colin. Or should I say…Nicol? The Rau look doesn’t suit you at all,” Kira spat.

                The SAZABI’s beam tomahawk ignited, a beam almost as tall as Kira’s suit emerging.

                “Word of advice, poptart…don’t ever say that name.”

                “Come shut me up, then, if you’re so tough!”

                Beam sabers clashed.

                Guns blazed.

                Blood ran in the streets.

                War had begun.

Chapter Text

The battle wasn’t going well.

                All We Like Sheep had the advantage, more than anyone would like to admit. Lacus realized this the moment she set out in the Perfect Strike.

                It wasn’t too hard avoiding Kagan’s strikes—the guy was sloppy, for the most part, taking advantage of his shotgun’s arc to avoid having to aim.

                The issue was, well, hitting anything herself.

                She’d landed a few blows, but was having a hard time aiming. The whole thing was against her nature, and while she’d wanted to protect people, pulling the trigger was hard.

                Every instinct of hers told her that every single one of her enemies here was raw and bloody with pain, emotional and otherwise.

                “Enough of this senseless destruction!” she cried out. “I know you have a problem with me, so leave the city alone and face me!”

                “Lacus, what are you—” Kira protested.

                “Kira, just let me try! Please, if nothing else, trust me to try!”

                Colin turned around.

                “So, you’ve come to give me therapy with a gun to my head. The Kira Yamato style. I gotta say, princess, you’re consistent, if nothing else. Sure, you shocked the world with the fact you’re horny, but that doesn’t make you real.”

                “No, you’re right. Having an active sex life and admitting I like to get smashed while still indulging in the pop star life doesn’t make me one of you. I had a sheltered life. I don’t belong on this battlefield. But—I can’t stand by and let you hurt innocents because you’re hurting.”

                Colin fumed.

                “Spare me your condescension! If you’d really cared, you’d have never let any of us kids fight in the first place! We were children, Lacus! I know everything that’s happened to me—er, Nicol—and my…his…”

                “Colin, mate, your mask—think your levels are getting low,” said Sidney.

                “But I’m not him!” Colin raged, a beeping noise emanating from his mask. “If I were him, mommy and daddy would have taken me home! If I were him, my father wouldn’t be Rau Le Fucking Creuset! If any of this were okay I wouldn’t have to wear this mask! You can’t make it okay!”

                “Tell me how I can—how we can. This isn’t about me, can’t you see?!” Lacus exclaimed. “Whatever Rau did—whatever ZAFT did—we can fix it!”

                Lunamaria struggled to her feet, and ripped the kunai pinning Shinn down out of his wings.

                “Okay, you punks—you’ve had your fun,” Lunamaria spat. “Either clear out, or we really get serious. You might be able to ignore Lacus—god knows, for as much as I love her music, it is hard to relate to her. But me—I’m one of you. I served in ZAFT. I was a soldier well before I should have been. I’ve lost loved ones all over the shop. I’ve felt the manipulations of every single Rau wannabe on this rock. So let me leave you with a .500 calibre question—if you hate what the world made you so much, then why are you still playing that role?”

                “Loathsome little rat—” Courtney said, readying her beam axe.

                “Look who’s talking, Little Miss Stuck In High School,” Lunamaria said, punching the Providence ZAKU’s head camera so hard it shattered.

                Her suit beeped with low power. The failing pack wasn’t helping.

                “I won’t stand here and let you kill anyone else!” Lacus said, firing a blast from her cannon that melted the KAMPFER’s shotgun.

                “Shit, we can’t just stand around,” Sidney said. “Get the boss back to base, okay? We’re takin’ a break.”

                At that moment, Yzak and Dearka arrived.

                The sight of the Duel Blitz arriving, however, made Colin’s mask flare bright red, flashing epileptically.

                “No. No. You are not replacing him!” Colin raged.

                “Nicol, stand down,” Yzak said. “You’re among friends.”

                Kira appeared behind Dearka’s Lightning Buster Gundam.

                The cockpit of the SAZABI opened up, and the now red-masked Colin stepped out, twitching and shaking.

                “No…no…I have no friends! Everyone left me!”

                “Do we retrieve him?” Dearka asked.

                “Not with his band standing guard,” Yzak replied.

                “You ain’t takin’ him,” Courtney spat. “He’s all we’ve got.”

                Meanwhile, the few onlookers below grew restless.

                “Hey, clear out, will ya? We’re sick of your goddamn wars!” called one.

                “Oh look, another Coordinator/Natural pissing contest. That’s original!”

                “Can’t you punks ever just see a therapist like a normal person?”

                “Get your damn Gundams out of here and let us get some sleep!”

                Then, the worst happened.

                One panicking citizen drew a firearm.

                “No. Not another—not another—” he stammered.

                Pulling the trigger, the bullet shattered Colin’s mask.

                Two long needles slid out of Colin’s eye sockets as the mask fell, revealing the angelic features of Nicol Amalfi. Green fluid poured down from his tear ducts, mingling with blood and tears of pain.

                “Ha. Hahaha….” Colin laughed. “You…you really shouldn’t have done that…”

                Clutching at his head, he fell back into the SAZABI’s cockpit.

                The SAZABI reactivated, and turned its head straight to Kira.

                “WHY DID YOU KILL ME?!” screamed an unearthly voice. “I WAS A CHILD. I WAS NO THREAT TO YOU, KIRA!”

                Kira froze as Nicol’s face flooded his memories. He froze, unable to act. The SAZABI threw Dearka and Yzak aside, and faced down the catatonic Kira.

                “I-I-I…I didn’t want to…” Kira stuttered. “I—”

                “YOU ACTED ON INSTINCT, BECAUSE YOUR INSTINCT IS TO KILL! YOU HAVE GIVEN THIS WORLD ONLY FREEDOM TO DIE! WE ARE THE SAME, YOU AND I! I’M JUST HONEST ABOUT BEING A MONSTER!” Colin spat.

                Throwing aside his beam tomahawk, he grasped the wings of the Rising Freedom.

                “TIME TO CLIP YOUR WINGS, KIRA.”

                Ripping them from the suit’s body, the suit short-circuited as it fell to its knees.

                “Any last words…murderer…?” came a softer voice from the SAZABI.

                “I’m sorry…Nicol…” replied Kira.

                The beam tomahawk reignited, aimed squarely at Kira’s cockpit.

                “No. You. Don’t.”

                Lacus swung the sword of the Perfect Strike, cutting the Sazabi’s arm off. At that exact moment, the power died, and her suit turned grey.

                “Boss, come on, retreat! We’ve got to regroup!” Courtney called out.

                “Coming, love…” said the eerily calm voice of Nicol.

                And in a cloud of the same black smoke they’d appeared in, they vanished.

--

                “Dear, how did you talk me into this?” Athrun asked, as the Akatsuki followed behind his Infinite Justice. Behind them, the Cavalier Aifrid Unit-01 sat waiting, Meyrin looking out from the bridge and saluting. An Izumo-class warship in pale pink accompanied it.

                “Because all battleship backup was busy, and my private ship, Amaterasu, was ready. I wasn’t going to let Meyrin escort you alone, not when there’s a chance of conspiracy going on. Also, because I’m not loaning this thing out to Mu again. He drives it like a boy who’s just gotten his license,” Cagalli replied. “If he wants, he can use the Strike Rouge…or the suit I’m sending him.”

                “The suit—did you finally get the MP Akatsuki ready?”

                “Well, not really. At best, we were able to do a prototype of it. It’s essentially a Murasame with anti-beam coating and a reinforced frame. The internals are based on a Strike cockpit, though, so Mu should have no trouble using it. We, uh…heard about the problems with that metal band.”

                “This thing got a name?”

                “Yeah. The Akatsuki Hyaku-Shiki. It was the 100^th revision of the Murasame, hence the name.”

                “Mu’ll be pleased as punch.”

                “Well, so will I! My ride won’t be a thousand pieces for once!” Cagalli said, laughing. “Besides, the Strike Rouge needs to be shelved. It’s falling apart.”

                “Well, all that strain from the remote systems you put into it couldn’t have helped. I’m still very grateful you did so, however.”

                The station loomed ahead. Silence. Stardust.

                No light, no sign of life from the colossal metal shell.

                “So, Athrun—mind tell me what exactly we’re doing investigating an empty cloning facility in the middle of nowhere?”

                “Because I owe Yzak Joule a favour involving some photos of me taken firmly out of context,” Athrun muttered. “That, and I believe that whatever he’s investigating is hidden here. Or at least, the truth behind it is.”

                “Ooh, out of context photos? Sounds kinky,” Cagalli teased.

                “No, it was more ‘Meer Campbell snuck into my bed because she thought I still had a thing with Lacus’. It was awkward. Really awkward.”

                “You left your door unlocked?”

                “Things slip your mind in the heat of battle,” Athrun said, in a tone that conveyed far more whiskey consumption than Athrun had had that day.

                “I’ll bet,” Cagalli teased. “Oh, to be a young man, grasping his phallic symbol, beating the hell out of other pretty boys and ranting about his philosophy.”

                “This is why you rent the Akatsuki to Mu, isn’t it?” Athrun said, sighing.

                “Yeah, but I realized I do miss the ‘run screaming at your opponent with a sword while decrying fascism’ aspect of war. It was rather enjoyable,” Cagalli admitted.

                “And people say marriage is boring,” Athrun deadpanned. “Help me with this bulkhead, will you, dear?”

                The two Mobile Suits worked together, pulling open the door. The work was difficult, but a few tugs and beam saber cuts later, Athrun and Cagalli were inside the base’s hangar.

                Remarkably, the power was still on inside the colony.

                “Huh. So, only the front door was busted?” Cagalli asked.

                “Probably to maintain cover during the quarantine,” Athrun replied. “If this place has anyone left alive…we’ll find them soon enough.”

                As they docked, they noticed a shadow in the corner of the room.

                It was another Gundam.

                “We aren’t alone…” Cagalli whispered.

                Athrun drew a gun.

                “Let’s take it carefully from here. Whoever’s here, it’s only one person, but they could be dangerous.”

                The Gundam left an X-shaped silhouette.

                --

                Shinn lay back in his bed, ice on his bruises. Mercifully, there’d been no worse damage—his Destiny had taken the worst of it.

                “Ugh…” he groaned, half from the hangover, half from pain.

                “Shinn, I’m here,” Lunamaria said, standing at his side.

                “Y-You’re okay…”

                Lunamaria took his hand.

                “Yes, I am. You fought bravely…but you still were an idiot to let them get under your skin like that. Such childish lyrics—you hear worse from Agnes.”

                “Yeah…look, I’m gonna blame the liquor.”

                “I do too. We gotta limit your drinking,” she teased.

                “Ugh. I agree. Stupid hangover. If I hadn’t been so sauced, I’d have trashed that guy and his stupid club-wielding suit.”

                “Shinn…” Lunamaria began, biting her lip. “Am I really such a terrible fighter?”

                Shinn’s jaw dropped.

                “What? No! That’s bullshit—can’t believe that guy was on about you missing that one time. I mean, he’s using shotguns! Like he needs to aim! Big talk from a guy who doesn’t even have sights on his weapons!”

                Lunamaria sighed.

                “It’s just—I got so clever, and then I get blindsided. Wings ripped off. Kicked down and humiliated while you’re pinned and Agnes is sacrificing herself to make it up to the girl she bullied. The whole thing just…it really was like when I missed shooting down the shuttle. I’m…I’m still adjusting to the Force Impulse Spec II—I haven’t been using it nearly as much as the GELGOOG Menace, and…”

                “Kira wouldn’t want you to say that about yourself. I don’t want you to say that about yourself.”

                “Also…just…something else isn’t sitting right with me. The whole time I was looking at Nicol/Colin, all I could think of was, well…Stella. Neo Roanoke. Everyone involved with Phantom Pain. The brainwashing. That’s what it felt like. It felt like that mask—and what the drummer said about doses—like, was he being drugged?”

                “I think the whole unit is on drugs, or at least has been so thoroughly tortured that they don’t think for themselves. I think they’re taking Rau’s orders, still. I think they were his dead man’s switch—the moment he bites it, they go active. Think about it—they prepped for a while, serving as regular ZAFT grunts, and then the moment that conflict ends and we’re distracted by the new era of peace? They arm up and get ready for a fight,” Shinn said.

                “And how are you taking that?” Lunamaria asked, biting her lip.

                “Well…they’re assholes,” Shinn said, bluntly.

                “Don’t you feel sorry for them? A little?”

                “Well…Colin, I feel bad for, because he doesn’t seem to know who he is. Courtney, too—she’s clearly someone who got bullied…and yeah, I think I remember her from the academy.”

                “You do?”

                “Courtney Cobain. She…didn’t last long. Dropped out. Agnes was merciless to her. I’d always assumed she got reassigned, but she never graduated. I think that’s how they got to her. I think they put her in a ZAFT uniform and had her fight in their unit despite never graduating because they needed another body to throw at the Federation. Now, I never met Sidney Ames, or that Kagan guy, but I think Kagan is Kagan Rose. He had a Slash Zaku Phantom, back in the conflict—never saw him, but I heard about his exploits a little. I think he was never much of a fighter, but if you upset him, he never held back. I think Sidney’s an asshole, and I think Kagan is too—but you’re right. It probably is war trauma Rau’s little brainwashing scheme exploited.”

                “God, it makes me sick. It’s like what Durandal did to you.”

                “Is that why you’re so mad?” Shinn asked.

                “Yeah…because I know what it’s like to see the person you love molded into a weapon that can’t see sense or reason.”

                Shinn sighed.

                “You’re…not wrong. I think that’s why I hate them so much. They’re like a horrible, twisted mirror of me. Durandal was bad enough, but at least he had good intentions—Rau never had any. I’m just not sure how to forgive them. They’re…so sadistic…”

                “I forgave you,” Lunamaria said, quietly.

                “Huh?”

                “You tried killing my sister, Shinn. Remember? Yeah, you weren’t yourself, but that’s still a hard thing for most people to forgive. But I forgave you.”

                “And I forgave Mu for everything he did as Neo Roanoke…which, I think, is why this is setting me off. It’s absolutely just…making weapons of orphans and outcasts. Goddamn Rau. Ruins everything he touches, even two wars later…”

                Lunamaria sighed.

                “I want you to myself tonight, and it looks like I’ll have that. Don’t worry—I will check on Agnes—but it’ll be nice to not have to compete with her for one night.”

                “And you say I’m the one who has a hard time forgiving,” Shinn teased.

                “God, just—shut up and take off everything but your bandages. I want to bang you into next week and forget this stupid day ever happened.”

                “Music to my weary ears,” Shinn said.

                --

                Agnes lay in bed, her eye bandaged up and the doctor having told her the worst—she’d never see out of that eye again.

                With the painkillers, she didn’t feel it anymore, and the long, jagged scar didn’t hurt either.

                No, what hurt was knowing it was all her fault.

                Hilda was reading some trashy magazine, but her attention was more on Agnes.

                “Hey. Nameless Agnes. What’s shakin’ on the anesthetic front?” she asked, after a moment.

                “Nngh…wish she’d gone deeper…” Agnes groaned.

                Hilda dropped the magazine and stood over Agnes, sighing.

                “Girl, martyrdom is not the cure for being a bitch,” she said, patiently.

                “Then…what is…?”

                “I’m a slut, not a bitch, so I’ll let you know when I figure that one out, but—” Hilda teased, but the soft look on Agnes’ face made her relent. “Look, Lacus once said in an interview that if you can understand someone’s feelings and try to make it up to them, even if they don’t want it, that’s growth. And really, that’s all you can do, kid. Grow. Yeah, it sucks, and it doesn’t come with a nice nickname and cool outfit, but…it’s the only way to live.”

                Agnes’ phone began ringing.

                “Let me…get that…”

                UNLISTED NUMBER

                Without knowing quite why, Agnes answered.

                “Agnes Giebenrath.”

                “Hey, Agnes. It’s…it’s Courtney. I…”

                Agnes said nothing, her breath halting.

                “I…I wish I knew why you let me do that,” Courtney said. “I thought…I thought it might have been something selfish. Your attempt to impress goody two-shoes Kira and all that. And then…I realized Kira wasn’t even there when you did that. I thought Kira shot me, but the caliber is small arms, and it’s a ZAFT bullet in my leg. Probably Intelligence. Assholes.”

                “I’m…I’m sorry, Courtney. For everything. I do mean that. I know it means nothing now. I know it can’t erase what I did.”

                Courtney let out a guttural, bitter sigh.

                “Look…Colin’s doing really badly. I…I remembered your number because you’re the only person I can call about this. The others…they’re so doped out of their minds, they don’t know what’s going on. I was the only one with enough of a hateboner for Rau to let it slide without doping me. If…if you can…get people to Mendel. Give them the code…Morningstar. Type it into any terminal, it’ll activate a sublevel…”

                A voice in the background could be heard.

                “Courtney, the hell are you on the phone with? You seriously doing a one-night stand at a time like this? Colin needs ya!”

                “I’m COMING, Sidney! Have some patience before I put my boot up your ass to teach you what it is!”

                Turning back to her phone, she sighed.

                “I’m gonna fight you like hell when you show up next, okay? Just for appearances’ sake. And also because I do want to still kick your pretty little ass into next week. But…apology appreciated, even if I’m struggling to accept it. You…you’ve got guts, Agnes. Much as it pains me to admit it.”

                Click.

                Mu walked into the room.

                “Who was that?” he asked.

                “Courtney…” Agnes said, before the painkillers knocked her out fully.

                “We need to talk, Hilda. About Agnes…and well, with Agnes, once she’s conscious again,” he said, looking at the now-sleeping former Moonlight Valkyrie.

Chapter Text

“That’s odd,” Athrun said, as he looked through the gleaming hallways of Mendel. “This place looks like it was visited recently.”  

“I’m afraid that’s because it was,” said a voice from the corner of the room. “There’s no need to draw weapons, Athrun Zala. I know who you are. I know why you’re here. I come as a friend, not an enemy.”  

The man’s silhouette was hauntingly familiar.  

“Rau?” Cagalli asked, shaking.  

“Identify yourself,” Athrun replied. “Rau’s dead.”  

“Too right—but I’m afraid the dead seem to rise a lot, lately. My name is Prayer Reverie—at least, the second to bear that name,” said a blond man graying at the temples. “I am unaffiliated with any organization, though if you want my last associates…the Junk Guild could provide a reference for me.”  

“You work with Lowe?” Cagalli asked.  

“I did. In truth, we were both enemy and ally. I’m not the original Prayer—he died some years ago. I am a Carbon Human.”  

“Carbon…Human…?”   

“You don’t get off Earth much, do you? We have a colony on Mars. In short, I am not quite a clone, but not an original either. Think of me as…well, I trust royalty like you, Lady Athha, has used a carbon pad at some point?”  

“When I was younger, yes.”  

“Think of me as what’s left when you tear the top page off.”  

“Okay, very poetic, but that doesn’t explain why you’re here ,” Athrun said.  

His phone beeped.  

“Hold on, let me—”  

YZAK: Hey, so Agnes got a call from the freaky goth chick I shot in the leg  

YZAK: She said to type “MORNINGSTAR” into any computer system and it’d give you what you’re looking for.  

“Important message, or spam?” Prayer asked.  

“Important enough. Why are you here? And why do you look like Rau Le Creuset?”  

“Simple. I’m a clone of Mu La Flaga. Rau is a clone of Al Da Flaga. Two look near identical, don’t they? I get word someone who should be dead comes back from the grave as a raving maniac on Earth. That sounds like two people I know—either Rau, or Matias.”  

“Matias?”  

“Don’t worry about him. In short, he’s dead. Led Librarian Works, an organization tied to a defunct conspiracy. They created Carbon Humans—effectively taking regular people and overwriting their genetic code until they resembled an exact clone of the person they wanted. This was all at the behest of The Clan, an ancient conspiracy that yada yada yada yada, LOGOS was involved as a pawn, etc. In short, greedy people wanted a clone army; I sabotaged it from within to show them it was unfeasible. And yes, it was—as you can see, I’m aging quite rapidly. My clone predecessor had the same kind of telomeres Rau had…and I copied their decay.”  

“Athrun, just how much have we been missing?” Cagalli asked.  

“I’m going to clock Lowe upside the head if he tells me ‘you didn’t ask’ as the reason he never mentioned any of this ,” Athrun deadpanned. “Prayer, it seems we’re looking for the same thing. Stick with us, and we’ll work this out together.”  

“Oh, excellent. I’m…moreso doing this for my original; being just a copy, I only have his fond memories, I never lived them. But I do know he died because of his clone status, and I want to find closure.”  

Athrun walked towards a nearby terminal. Typing “MORNINGSTAR” into the command prompt, the screen flashed on.  

ADRIAN NIN, WELCOME. ACCESS AUTHORIZED.  

A panel slid away in the bulkhead, leading down to a long series of steps.  

“I hope you packed your hiking shoes, Athrun. It would seem the devil really is waiting for us downstairs,” Prayer quipped.  

--  

“God, that went terribly,” Lacus said, sighing. “You were right to not want me out there.” 

“No, I think you helped,” Kira said, boiling water to make tea. 

“How? I did what everyone says I do. Lecture,” Lacus replied, wringing her hands. 

“Well, look what a bit of lecturing from Agnes got Courtney to do,” Kira pointed out. 

“…cut her eye out?” 

“No, no—I mean—Courtney didn’t go for a killing blow. That’s my point. In fact, she seemed really troubled about the whole murder affair after that.” 

Kira’s phone beeped. 

“You’ve reached Commander Yamato.” 

“Kira, you’re needed downstairs—I know this isn’t the best time, but…Agnes learned something important,” Lunamaria said. 

“Can I speak to her?” 

“She’s unconscious. Painkillers are working well.” 

Kira sighed. 

“I’ll be right down. Who’s with you?” 

“Mu. Hilda. Shinn’s sleeping off his bruises, but he was here.” 

“I’ll come too,” Lacus said. 

“We’ll be down. See you soon.” 

The medical bay looked oddly ghostly at night, the pale, sterile lighting of the room barely illuminating the sleeping Agnes. 

Mu and Hilda were standing off to the side as Lunamaria kept watch. 

“Mu. What’s our situation?” Kira asked. 

“Agnes got called by Courtney,” Mu answered. “It would seem Rau’s up to his old tricks. Mental manipulation on every member but her. She called because the situation is getting out of control for her. Colin’s mask helped keep his identity secure—without it, he’s a mess of the angry young man he’s become and the memories of Nicol Amalfi. The others? They’re like the Extended. Insane. Courtney only called because she had information for us…I think she wants to be stopped. Seeing Agnes give in like that broke her—she was expecting a monster and a bunch of self-righteous jerks, and when that’s not what she saw…” 

“She folded,” Hilda finished. “I knew her, briefly, before she left the academy. Hell, I think I even slept with her, but…God. It didn’t go well. Poor thing just wanted to be comforted, reassured, and nothing I could say could make it right. It was, in the end, only Agnes who could, by surrendering like that.” 

“Did Courtney offer any insight into what’s next?” Lacus asked. 

“Afraid not,” Lunamaria said. “From what we can tell, she just gave a password: MORNINGSTAR. We passed it on to Athrun and Yzak over at ZAFT intelligence.” 

“Okay, hold up—that doesn’t make sense,” Mu said. “She killed the ZAFT agent, and now she’s helping ZAFT?” 

“I think it’s not about the affiliation. I think she had a personal grudge against the agent,” Kira said. “Think about it. Rau couldn’t have done that alone. Yes, he had fingers in everyone’s pies—but that’s not possible without help . He had to have had a mole in ZAFT that could get him prototype units, access to cloning tech, all of it. Rau was well-liked, but he wasn’t going to be able to just stroll up and request a clone army without raising some eyebrows.” 

“Who’s the agent? I might know him,” Hilda said. 

“Adrian Nin, going by what Yzak shared.” 

Hilda spat into the corner. 

“God, what a snake.” 

“You knew him?” Kira asked, surprised. 

“He was our mole in Blue Cosmos. Not a Coordinator, but allegedly sympathetic to the cause. Truth of the matter is, he was loyal to no one but himself. Not even the head of intelligence knew just how loyal he was. But if you needed dirty work done…he was your man. He made a pass at me once. Turned him down flat,” Hilda said.  

“Okay,” Kira said. “So, to recap: Rau Le Creuset, for reasons that made sense only to him, decided to make a clone of Nicol Amalfi. To do this, he got the help of ZAFT agent Adrian Nin. Presumably, Adrian had access to Mendel. But the one thing I don’t get—remember Nicol’s ranting? He said his parents wouldn’t take him back. That does not sound remotely like the parents I remember. I think Rau did something—something he’s not making readily apparent—to make sure that Nicol was rejected.” 

-- 

At the bottom of Mendel, in a secret sub-basement beneath a sub-basement, a cloning lab with a TV monitor waited, a list of videos onscreen. 

PROJECT LUCIFER, read the heading on the menu onscreen. 

The options read: 

VIDEO WILL 

OUR FAMILY MEMORIES 

FOUND FAMILY 

LET THERE BE PEACE ON EARTH 

Athrun swallowed hard as he looked around. 

The fact that the only chair in the room was bloodstained didn’t exactly do much to offset the “we violated so many ethical standards” aesthetic that the lab possessed. 

Prayer was rooting through drawers, taking out documents that stood out to him as interesting, and stacking them neatly. 

“I won’t have time to read these here, but I think I’ll take them back in the Dreadnought, get the relevant authorities to look them over.” 

Cagalli picked up the remote near the screen and selected “VIDEO WILL.” 

In a moment, Rau’s grinning face filled the screen. 

“Hello, Adrian. If you’re watching this, I’m either dead, or you’re going behind my back. If the latter—you really are a snake. But if I’m dead, well, welcome to Project Lucifer. And you, snake, will be the one to ensure that humanity leaves the Garden of Eden that is this world for good. You may remember Nicol Amalfi; if not, don’t worry. He was, regrettably, too weak for the work I needed. But we can rebuild him. Stronger. Faster. Meaner. And, well—I've made sure he’ll start hanging out with the right kind of friends.” 

The rest of the video was far too dry and technical for Cagalli to understand fully, but she made a mental note to take the disc with her as they left. 

Athrun looked at the menu once the segment ended. 

“Do I want to know what ‘Our Family Memories’ is to a guy like Rau?” he said, gagging. 

“I want to,” Prayer said, his tone calm, but full of undeniable anger. 

Athrun clicked the option, hesitantly. 

“Family,” Rau began. “Such a... meaningless word. We associate the idea of family with love, giving, charity—why? Ultimately, family is simply a thing imposed onto the children we bring into this world we take for granted. Generations endlessly breeding, not for a desire to better the world, but simply put ourselves above it. And the whole Coordinator mess made it worse. Still, I found myself tempted to give little Nicol 2 a better life. After all, his father came to me pleading for his son back. But, well...unfortunately, the Amalfis had something I wanted. The N-Jammer Canceller. And well...I know that families aren’t known for loyalty. You give them everything, and they still can turn on you. So, well...I put the idea into their heads that Nicol, well, wasn’t guaranteed to come back as Nicol. After all—the genetic material I got from them wasn’t the best. And neither was mine—see, I’ve always wanted a kid I could show my vision to. And well, let’s just say that first time didn’t go so well when I brought that bouncing baby boy back home...” 

A clip played of Nicol walking into his parents’ house, Rau in tow. Nicol was wearing a mask much like Colin had worn, and his parents looked uneasy. 

“Take the mask off, Nicol,” Rau said. “Give mommy and daddy a good look at their beautiful son.” 

Nicol removed the mask, blood pouring down his face. His eyes were Rau’s, and his face was already decaying into a skull-like visage. 

“That’s not my son!” shouted Nicol’s father. 

“Get that thing out of here!” screamed the mother. 

Rau laughed and drew a gun. He fired first into Nicol’s head, just outside his field of view, then shot both parents. 

“I do so hate family reunions,” Rau quipped, before shooting the camera. 

The footage ended, before returning to Rau’s grinning face. 

“I took the Canceller and the blueprints, and once I was done, I felt nostalgic...so I burned the place to the ground to erase my involvement. Just like I did to dear old dad. But the best part was still to come! Adrian, you good little rat, got me what I needed from Librarian Works. With the aid of their tech, I began to take a ZAFT pilot who’d been dead to the world since he decided to sneak into Foundation and rewrite him into Colin—my perfect Nicol. I must say, Accords do such a nice job of erasing minds. It’s funny--I really am a single father!” 

Rau’s mad cackling echoed through the room as Cagalli turned pale. 

“You goddamn sick motherfucker,” Cagalli spat. 

Prayer threw a microscope into the screen, shattering it.  

“Take the disc. I’ve heard enough,” he said, trembling. 

Chapter Text

“Hello, Courtney,” said Nicol, his eyes bloodshot, as she stood trembling in the doorframe of the underground bunker that doubled as their recording studio.  

“H-Hello, Colin…” Courtney stammered.  

“Who were you on the phone with?” he said, his tone sounding oddly like Rau’s. “No one…treacherous…I hope.”  

“Just telling Agnes I was going to get her ass for what she did—”  

“…and telling them about me. About Mendel,” Nicol replied, his hand closing around her wrist.  

“Colin, let me go! I-I-I was just worried about you!”  

Nicol’s voice changed back to the Colin voice.  

“Worried about what?! That they might not know how to kill me?! Since when do you care—”  

“I’ve always cared!” Courtney protested.  

Snap.  

Courtney howled as Nicol crushed the bones of her arm.  

“Please. No one cares on this earth. And I’ll make sure they pay for that,” Nicol said, clicking a remote.  

Courtney backed up, sobbing.  

Above her, she saw a massive red-and-purple unit, dwarfing the SAZABI below it. An empty space sat below a large purple, horned head with a single burning eye. Two massive arms extended from spiked shoulders, and racks of DRAGOONS sat above. Two titanic legs held the frame up.  

“No…” Courtney stammered. “Y-You can’t be serious…I get trashing some parties…wrecking some buildings…but that—that’s—”  

“The Neurological Engram Online ZAFT Exoskeletally Operated Natural Genocider. Or, more poetically…the NEO ZEONG. The masterstroke of Patrick Zala’s work. Except, I intend for this to do more than hurt Naturals. I want the world to pay for making us lost. I want Kira to pay for my death. And you—you want to go help. Cute.”  

He crushed her other arm, and as she crawled away, shot out both of her legs.  

“Go see if anyone helps you…otherwise, lay there and bleed while I do the work you were too weak to do,” he spat.  

“Nicol…this isn’t you…” Courtney gasped. “Don’t be…what Rau made you…”  

“SINCE WHEN DO YOU CARE?!” Nicol raged.  

“Since I saw Agnes change! Doesn’t that mean anything?!” Courtney said. “God—do you even remember Mendel? If Rau didn’t care about the world, why would he care about us?!”  

“Better hope you can get Kira to change my mind, then,” Nicol said, his softer, more innocent voice taking over. “Goodbye, Courtney.”  

--  

“Junk Guild, Lowe Guele speaking! How can I help you today?”  

“LOWE GUELE, YOU’VE GOT A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO, SO GET YOUR RED-FRAMED ASS OVER TO ORB RIGHT NOW!” Athrun raged into his phone.  

“Whoa, slow down, Athrun! Something wrong? Don’t tell me the Aegis has rust problems—”  

“This isn’t about my beach house. This is about the fact I AM TALKING TO A CLONE OF MU LA FLAGA I DIDN’T KNOW EXISTED.”  

“Oh, sick, you met Prayer? How’s the guy doin’? Not gonna lie, I miss his younger, non-edgelord version, but—”  

“GET. OVER. HERE. NOW.”  

Lowe hung up and sighed.  

“Gai, Athrun seems very upset about something.”  

“Could that be because a clone of Nicol Amalfi is destroying Tokyo?” Gai deadpanned.  

“HE’S WHAT?!”  

Sure enough, a TV news report showed the massive NEO ZEONG obliterating Tokyo in a manner none too dissimilar to an old Godzilla film.  

“God. God, I go to repair the Red Frame for five minutes—” Lowe muttered.  

“Five days,” Gai replied.  

A phone jangled.  

“Athrun, I—” Lowe began.  

“My, is that any way to answer me?” came a smooth voice on the other end.  

“R-Rondo Mina Sahaku?!” Lowe exclaimed.  

“I see there’s some trouble downtown Tokyo, and I was trying to relax back at Orb. Now, Athrun Zala is kicking open every door and I can’t get any rest. I’m getting very tired of clones, Lowe. So if you want to make things square with me, why don’t you come to Orb?”  

“I was already leaving—”  

“Good boy. See you soon!”  

“Get the ship ready,” Lowe said, as he hung up. “We’re going to Orb. Bring the suits. I get the feeling we’re going to be in battle again.”  

“Yeah, this time you might see some action, Lowe,” Gai teased.  

--  

“Lady Athha, this is Rondo Mina Sahaku. Your fiancé is making a racket, is it possible to get him to stop? I’ve called for help with the...situation,” Rondo Mina said, drily.  

Cagalli sighed into the receiver.  

“Is this help, or a political maneuver?” she quipped.  

“Lady Athha, you make me sound like some kind of megalomaniac. I’m wounded.”  

“Your brother wasn’t exactly known for subtlety.”  

“My brother was a fanatic. Lovely man, though. Good taste. Anyway, you know I’m getting out of politics. Picking a successor—ATHRUN SO HELP ME GOD, I’M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS IF YOU KNOCK OVER ANOTHER CHAIR! THOSE ARE EXPENSIVE!”  

“I’ll be right over,” Cagalli said, quickly. “Don’t bruise him too much, alright?”  

“I’ll try not to,” Rondo Mina said, darkly. “Did you have to put a ring on such a hothead?”  

Cagalli laughed as she hung up.  

Athrun, sure enough, was tearing apart room after room, muttering incoherently about clones, extremists, and things well outside of his pay grade (despite said pay grade having undeniably gone up since Orb understood he was not just “that sketchy guy who keeps sneaking our regent out for dates.”)  

Cagalli arrived moments later, and called out, sunnily:  

“Athrun, dear! It’s alright! Help is on the way, and I don’t think you’ll find any more evil clones inside Rondo Mina’s conference room!”  

Athrun was hyperventilating, wearing a pair of track shorts and his “NONE OF MY SHIT IS COORDINATED” shirt. He carried a mug full of what smelled like coffee heavily laced with alcohol.  

“I have learned so, so much I never wanted to know. I’m half convinced that once we go through those papers, we’ll find out I’m secretly a clone of George Glenn, that you and Kira were split up to avoid Rau Le Creuset making you into the Shin Ultra Omega Instinct Coordinator Mark-II Type F2000, and--”  

“Athrun. Deep breaths.”  

“Yes, dear, wouldn’t want to throw your back out before Cagalli blows it out on the honeymoon,” Rondo Mina deadpanned.  

“You are lewd and unceremonious, Lady Sahaku!” Cagalli said, crimson.  

“And gorgeous too,” Rondo Mina said, laughing. “Now, come on. The Junk Guild will be here soon, with Serpent Tail in tow.”  

“Oh God. You’re bringing in those Astray-piloting mercenaries? The headaches that whole mess caused me--” Cagalli said.  

“You had no problem when Kira brought them in last time...”  

“KIRA ALSO DIDN’T TELL ME! HE HAD ME BRING SOME SPARE M1s, AND SAID IT WAS KIND OF URGENT.”  

The sound of a landing spacecraft in the distance made Cagalli breathe a brief sigh of relief before she grabbed Athrun’s hand and dragged him away to go meet with Prayer to discuss more courses of action.  

--  

“Agnes is up. Just as well, really, because the city’s on fire,” Mu said, calmly, as he walked into Kira’s office.  

RING. RING. RING.  

“Agnes...”  

“Agnes...Courtney. Nicol...I’m...I’m dying...wanted to say...sorry...”  

“Courtney, where are you?” Agnes asked.  

“JESUS FUCK, WHAT’D HE DO TO YOU?” came Kagan’s voice on the other end. “Come on, girl, we gotta get you help—who're you callin’?”  

“A-Agnes...”   

Kagan could be heard grabbing the phone.  

“Hey. Bitch. I don’t like you, and you don’t like me, but I promise I’ll kill you myself if she doesn’t recover. We’re under the 109 building in Shibuya. You get help to get us to a hospital, it’s square between us.”  

“Deal. I’ll get Kira to send help. And I’m coming to escort.”  

“Yeah, well you bloody well better. Nicol went rogue and didn’t even call us to join in. And it doesn’t even sound like him anymore.”  

“Who’s it sound like?”  

“Turn on the damn TV.”  

Mu flicked on a nearby screen.  

“Citizens of Tokyo, rejoice. Your liberation from your worthless lives is at hand. This is the final legacy of Rau Le Creuset,” said a hologram of Rau’s face projected over the SAZABI’s monoeye. “I am Lucifer, and this is Hell! Rejoice!”  

“That damn machine’s brainwashing him,” Shinn spat. “We gotta stop that thing,”  

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Mu added. “We got a contact we can call for info? It’s got ZAFT logos on it, but I’ve never seen it before.”  

“Kagan...why aren’t you in on this?” Agnes asked, still on the line.  

“Look--I know we say ‘Rau was right’ but—I’ve had a bad feeling since Nicol’s mask broke, and Courtney started making calls—she was the only sane one of us. If she had a bad feeling—and got nearly killed for it—then I don’t want to keep fighting. I think...I think she knew Rau was doing something worse than just a bit of chaos. I love a good riot—but this ain’t it. He wouldn’t let us see that giant thing, and now that I see it in action, I know why.”  

“What...made you change?”  

“That...that says Natural Genocider on it. I want this world to burn—but not forever. I hate what the world did to me, but damn it, I’m not proving Patrick Zala right. That...that has his hands all over it. And I’m not letting Rau Le Creuset steal my best friend’s life.”  

--  

Shinn, Lunamaria, and Agnes met with Hilda in the hangar, suiting up and getting ready.  

“Wasn’t expecting our machines to be fixed that fast,” Lunamaria said.  

“Well, if you could avoid trashing them this time, that’d be great,” Albert Heinlein muttered. “I’ve done some major upgrades. The Force pack was completely destroyed, and the Justice wasn’t doing much better. I’ve upgraded both with Destiny packs I’ve been reverse-engineering for a while. Shinn, I’ve reworked your Destiny to have stronger wings because you love to get into the thick of it. I had to cannibalize the Rising Freedom’s remains to do so, but...well, behold my work: The Destiny Impulse, the Destined Justice, and the Destined Freedom.”  

Kira arrived, Mu in tow.  

“Mu has told me that Orb contacted him, they apparently sent over a suit he could use?” Kira asked.  

“Oh, yeah, that gaudy thing. Not the Akatsuki. Some kind of MP Akatsuki they’re calling the Hyaku-Shiki,” Albert replied.  

Indeed, what appeared to be a golden Murasame stood in the corner, its head replaced with a golden Strike Gundam’s.  

“The transformation feature is a bit buggy, Mu, but you probably won’t need it,” Albert said. “It’s meant mostly for up close and personal, just the way you like it.”  

“Yzak and Dearka are on their way. We’ve got confirmation of more support from Orb, too,” said Lacus, walking in. “We managed to get approval on the Proud Defender, but it’s being sent to us from Scandinavia. We’ll join the fight as soon as we can.”  

Shinn took one last look up at the Mobile Suits.  

On the cockpits, each had been branded with a sticker of a howling husky.  

DESTINY DOGS, read the text beneath.  

Chapter Text

“Agnes Giebenrath, Destined Justice, launching!”

               Agnes’ thoughts swam as she launched, an escort of Windams and Daggers keeping watch at her sides. Backup like this she might have scoffed at, once, but she knew Shinn and Lunamaria were right behind her with another team.

               That, and she’d had a lot of time to think.

               I always wondered why nobody would stay. Why nobody could ever really love me. And I realized, more than ever, the moment I saw Orphee shoving that girl aside, the moment I saw myself taken back by COMPS…

               The moment Kira told me about giving me a second chance.

               I realized what he’d been trying to tell me. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to believe anything they said, because that’d have made everything I ever did for nothing. And you know what? I’m still amazing. I’m still hot shit. But I deserve so much better than what I was giving myself and what I was giving to others. I want to earn my crown. And that means valuing people enough to let them value me.

               I remember seeing that weird blind Reverend on TV once, talking about how if your eye causes you to stumble, you should tear it out.

               Well, here I am…one eye down.

               --

               Tokyo was in flames.

               This by itself wasn’t terribly odd, as Kira grimly noted, looking down from the bridge of the Millennium. Tokyo, whether in life or in fiction, tended to burn a lot.

               It was the sheer pain that came with this fire that stood out. Against all logic, Nicol Amalfi was piloting a superweapon designed to commit genocide, a thing that stood against everything Nicol had stood for.

               (At least, that was what Athrun had said, and Kira had no reason to doubt that; Athrun was a reasonably good judge of character so long as your name was not Shinn Asuka or Gilbert Durandal.)

               “What’s the status on Agnes?” Kira asked, as Lacus joined him at the bridge.

               “She’s headed for the rendezvous point, and the Earth Alliance backup is helping as much as they can. ZAFT Intelligence is on its way. And Athrun…well, I’m told—”

               A call came up on the viewscreen.

               “Onscreen,” Kira said to the communications tech.

               “Hey, Kira! Been a while!” said the voice on the monitor.

               “Lowe…?” Kira asked, staring at the Junk Guild pilot onscreen.

               “Yeah, look, I didn’t want to crash another one of your parties, but unfortunately, I’m kinda tangentially involved in this!”

               “And I’m making sure he holds himself to his end of the bargain,” said the calm, steely tones of Rondo Mina behind him, emanating from a cockpit speaker.

               Kira sighed. Not this again. He understood—well, “understood” was doing a lot of legwork here—that someone, beyond his ability to understand why, had once cloned him. This had led to a lot of random junk collector liaisons that he still didn’t know why he had. Still, Lowe had apparently dragged him to safety from the mutual explosion of the Aegis and the Strike, so he was fairly kindly disposed to the man.

               At least when he could remember that not everyone was up to speed on the quirky dealings of the junk world.

               “Okay, so—oh, hell with it—WHY AM I SEEING A GIANT MOBILE ARMOR PILOTED BY TWO DEAD GUYS DESTROYING TOKYO?!” Kira exploded.

               “It has to do with a bunch of clones I had to deal with,” Lowe replied. “It’s uh—kinda stupidly complicated. But, the guy with the giant X on his back is on our side even if he looks like Rau without his mask.”

               “How many clones of the Flaga family are running around?!” Kira demanded.

               “I’ll fill you in later,” Lowe said.

               “I will hold you to that. If I find for even a second you’re trying to run away, I will sic Agnes on you. And she’s mean. She will point out insecurities you didn’t even know you had. She will come up with a cruel but accurate nickname. And she’ll say it in the cutest, most diabetes-inducing tone you will ever hear, Lowe.”

               “Message received! Now come on, we gotta stop that thing before there’s nothing left!” Lowe replied.

               “My suit is inoperable right now,” Kira replied.

               “IT’S WHAT?!” Lowe exclaimed, loud enough for Kira to wince.

               “Yeah, so, apparently the world governments don’t take kindly to extrajudicial killing of state heads, even if they are rapey, creepy incel types. They also really don’t like you unveiling new superweapons without announcements. So, to avoid me getting thrown in jail, I have to keep half my mobile suit in Scandinavia,” Kira replied.

               “And when will it get here?”

               “Stall him for thirty more minutes. It’s almost here.”

               --

               Athrun flew in, muttering all the while about how normally, being unable to let go of the past was something a good therapist could fix. Normally, he told himself, he could forget most of what was going on with a nice, quiet, intimate night with Cagalli, clothing optional and good food mandatory.

               No amount of admitting what an absolute babe Cagalli was was going to change the fact there was a large, atrociously-painted superweapon built by his father trashing Tokyo like a Godzilla made of daddy issues.     

               “Athrun to Kira, I’ve engaged the NEO ZEONG. I’ll attempt to draw its fire away from the civilian population and make it easier for Agnes to do the extraction on Courtney.”

               “Ah, the son of the mass murderer that made this possible!” crowed the digitized tones of Rau from the NEO ZEONG’s loudspeaker. “What a pity you don’t share the same bloody-minded nature as your late father. You’re about as stupid, though.”

               “Daddy never loved you either, huh?” Athrun taunted.

               “S-Shut up! I killed my father, and you don’t hear me whining about it!”

               “All you do is whine,” Athrun retorted. “And you killed Nicol’s father, too!”

               The NEO ZEONG froze.

               --

               Inside, Nicol, or Colin, or whatever was left of the man being puppeteered by Rau’s virtual ghost, shuddered.

               “You…did…what?!” Nicol raged.

               “You had to be shown the world’s true nature,” Rau whispered.

               “You lied to me. You lied to us all!” Nicol spat, blood pouring from his eyes and mouth. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill everything you hold dear!”

               “Nothing matters to me, Nicol. That’s why I always win. You can never be truly disappointed if the world will never change,” Rau said, his tone calm, but his virtual expression flickering. “Now be a good boy and kill Athrun.”

               “Never.”

               A shock jolted through Nicol’s body, and Rau sighed.

               “Very well. I’ll do it myself.”

               TARGET LOCKED.

               WARNING: DNA SIGNATURE DETECTED: “ZALA, ATHRUN.”

               WEAPONS DISABLED.

               “What?!” Rau raged.

               A small screen flickered on inside the cockpit, the face of Patrick Zala appearing.

               “Rau. I figured you might pull something like this when I stuck the NEO ZEONG in the mothballs. I told you that this was intended for the complete failure of our plans. I told you in no uncertain terms—stay away from my son. If he is out of line, I will deal with him myself. Keep your two-faced hide away from my family.”

               Rau raged.

               “NICOL! KILL EVERYONE ELSE! I’LL LET SIDNEY TAKE CARE OF PATRICK’S LITTLE BASTARD!”

               Every lever slammed forward. The monoeye of the SAZABI burst to blinding levels of light.

               The NEO ZEONG seemed to roar as it shredded through building after building.

               Sidney, meanwhile, was zipping around in his EFREET, laughing madly.

               “Yes! Yes! AHAHAHAHA! DIE!”

               CLANG.

               “Sorry, but I’m a real big believer in not letting people die,” Lowe said, parrying the club’s blow with his Gerbera Straight, the Tiger Pierce in his other hand leveled at the head camera of the EFREET.

               “Back off, scrapyard samurai.”

               “No can do, little drummer boy. You lay down those weapons or I’ll send ‘em to the scrapheap with the rest of your suit,” Lowe replied.

               WHIRR—

               “He means it, too,” added Gai, the gatling gun he’d set up on a ruined heap nearby spinning up. “Of course, if you press the issue, Serpent Tail will get involved.”

               Rondo Mina flew in behind, hovering ominously.

               “Get back, you has-beens!” Rau’s voice growled, blending with Nicol’s voice.

               --

               “What do you mean the Proud Defender unit won’t be here for another 20?!” Kira exclaimed. “People are dying!”

               “Yeah, about that?” came the reply from Earth Alliance’s beleaguered commander. “We had some ZAFT rebel remnants try shooting that thing down, and we had to stop its flight and fight them off. We had Orb backup, but it took longer than we hoped. Sorry, Commander Yamato, but you know how it is. It never rains, but it pours.”

               “We’ll think of something to stall for time,” Kira replied. “Yamato out.”

               Lacus put her hand gently on his shoulder.

               “I have a plan, Kira. I won’t sortie, don’t worry—but I know someone who can help.”

               Lacus left to go make a call, and Kira surveyed the carnage with a furrowed brow.

               “I can’t sit idle,” he muttered.

               He called up Sai.

               “Sai Argyle.”

               “Hey, Sai, it’s Kira. Look, my Mobile Suit isn’t operational for at least 20 minutes. Think you can link me up to one of those remote-operated systems?”

               “Sure, but just a warning, they aren’t tuned. You’ll have to do some on the fly recalibrations, but knowing you, you won’t find that a hassle. I’ll punch you into the nearest Murasame Kai, get you into the fray.”

               Kira launched minutes later, heading towards the 109 building to provide cover for Agnes.

--

Meanwhile, the NEO ZEONG had begun to deploy funnels from the SAZABI’s racks and its own. These wouldn’t have been a problem for Kira’s usual suit, but they were speeding for the Destiny Dogs team as they raced to retrieve the injured Courtney.

               Courtney was in the cockpit of the KAMPFER, unable to fly her own ZAKU. All the while, Kagan was seething with rage. Once more, people who had claimed to care for outcasts like himself had seen him and his friends only as meat.

               They had used him. No one did that to him. No one did that to his friends.

               A Murasame Kai flew up beside him.

               “Kagan Rose, this is Kira Yamato. I’m providing support fire until my mobile suit arrives and I can get in the fray myself. I’ll stay close.”

               “Appreciated, Kira,” Kagan grumbled. “You know, for an empty-headed peacenik, you ain’t so bad.”

               “Thanks,” Kira said, switching frequencies. “Destiny Dogs, this is Kira Yamato, what’s your position?”

               “This is Lunamaria, I’ve secured a crumbling building with Prayer Reverie’s Dreadnaught. Been shooting down the NEO ZEONG funnels but they’re just too many! We can make our way to your position at the 109 building, but Shinn and Agnes are focused firmly on fighting the NEO ZEONG!”

               “Hey, Kira, this is Shinn. Jeez, how many of these things does this guy have?! I don’t think we can count on him running out, not before our munitions do. I’d do my afterimages thing, but the area’s too cramped!”

               Another call flashed on the screen.

               “Hey Kira!” said Lowe, blood pouring down his face. “Turns out it’s a really bad idea to try to melee a suit that has fists bigger than your average Gundam’s head. Listen, I got a plan, but the problem is that it involves leaving the Blue and Gold Frames to fighting Sidney alone.”

               “I’m listening. I’ll send Mu to back you up. Go do what you have to.”

--

               Mu La Flaga flew in, the gold wings of the Hyaku-Shiki gleaming in the firelight.

               “Take good care of that suit,” said Cagalli, over the speaker. “It’s a prototype, so I can’t guarantee the transformation will work.”

               Mu chuckled.

               He rapidly stopped chuckling when he saw the burning monoeye of the EFREET staring him down.

               “They sent the golden boy!” Sidney taunted.  “You’re too late; all the bling in the world won’t save you!”

               “For a man who makes the impossible possible…it’s never too late!”

               Mu cranked the lever for the Hyaku-Shiki’s transformation…and an ugly bang echoed from the back. His wings stuck halfway through the transformation, and he fell from the air.

               “Never send a little boy to do a woman’s job,” Rondo Mina said, wrapping wires around Sidney’s EFREET.

               As Gai Murakumo swung his sword down on the EFREET, severing one arm, he noticed that the shoulders were now glowing red, and the monoeye had a gleaming red tone.

               “Crap, is it going to—” Gai wondered, before the EFREET grabbed the sword one handed and crushed its power supply, causing it to fall apart, the chaingun barrel no longer spinning.

               “EXAM MODE ACTIVATED” droned the speakers of the EFREET.

               Sidney no longer spoke, not coherently. As he muttered “diediediediedie” to himself, the EFREET lurched forward, swinging wildly as the superheated club cleaved through the Blue Frame’s leg. The wires wrapped around him melted, and as he turned on Rondo Mina, she shot several spikes through the suit’s leg.

               It might as well have been a splinter. The suit kept moving, kept swinging.

               Lowe, meanwhile, called up to his ship.

               “Hey Professor! Can you get George Glenn’s AI slotted into Project Shield? We kinda need that down here now. Have him target the NEO ZEONG, then pull an Athrun with it. He’ll know what I mean.”

--

Agnes made it to the 109 building just as a blast from the NEO ZEONG clipped the leg of the KAMPFER, causing it to collapse.

               Mercifully, Agnes was there to catch them. Shinn and Lunamaria arrived to protect them as the transfer happened.

               The hand of the Immortal Justice extended, and as Kagan opened the hatch, he ran with Courtney across to Agnes, who knelt the suit down so they could escape together.

               “I lived, bitch,” Courtney teased, weakly, looking up at Agnes.

               “We’ll get you to the hospital. Together.” Agnes said. “Hey, Destiny Dog! Go fight for me, okay? I’m out for the next five until I can get Courtney safe!”

               An Alliance helicopter pulled up beside.

               “Load her in,” said the medic. “We’ll evacuate to a further hospital. Keep fighting!”

               And as Courtney gave a weak nod, Agnes felt full of resolve. Climbing back in the cockpit, she activated all systems.

               “We’re going to take Sidney out of the fight,” Agnes said. “Let’s do this!”

               Charging across Shibuya, avoiding the wild, errant fire of the NEO ZEONG, they confronted Sidney.

               “I’LL KILL YOU ALL!” he screamed.

               “Better not miss, then,” Shinn said,

               “I won’t,” Sidney sneered, as he smashed Shinn’s wing.

               “Shinn!” Lunamaria screamed.

               “How is he…so…fast…” Shinn grunted, dazed. His vision blurred, and as he tried to make repairs on the fly, he knew that Agnes and Lunamaria would be on their own.

               “Lulu, get the two Astray pilots back so they can patch up their systems! I’ll take on Sidney myself!” Agnes said.

               “What?!” Lunamaria exclaimed.

               “Just do it! They need your help! I’ll take on this washout myself!”

               “Well, well, the washed up Moonlight Whore is trying to tell me I’m yesterday’s news,” Sidney spat.

               “Please, you haven’t been relevant since Commander Durandal. You would be rotting in jail if he didn’t need another stupid meathead to throw at innocent civilians.”

               Sidney swung wildly.

               “I am not! Stupid!”

               “You bought what Rau le Creuset was selling hook, line, and sinker. You’re dumber than Shinn. At least Durandal could  be convincing; Rau was just some big dumb  rabid dog lashing out at everyone.”

               “GO TO HELL!” Sidney exclaimed, but it was distraction enough. A spike from the Gold Frame knocked his aim askew, as did a blast from Lunamaria’s rifle.

               “Thanks, ladies,” Agnes said.  “Sidney? I don’t go down for, or on, anyone who doesn’t shower.”

               “RAAAGGHH! DIE, YOU SHE-WOLF!”  

               The distraction was costly. Agnes shoved her beam boomerang through Sidney’s cockpit.

               The EFREET was toast.

               “Agnes’ playground taunting saved us all. My god,” Shinn muttered.

               Lunamaria squinted.

               “Hey, what’s that giant pink shadowy thing approaching?”

--

“Hey, Rau ol’ buddy! This is George Glenn, comin’ at ya!”

               A giant pink Gundam, with an Astray’s head and pink v-fin, flew down at the NEO ZEONG. Athrun did a double take.

               “The Aegis...?” he wondered.

               “Yep, Athrun, Lowe got a real good deal from you! Enough to rebuild this old thing. But he did do one other thing—time for the Athrun Special!”

               “What?!” raged Rau, from the speakers.

               The Aegis Astray transformed into a giant pink claw, clamping firmly around the NEO ZEONG.

               “Three, two, one!” the George AI cheered, before ejecting its consciousness from the MS.

               It glowed hot, then exploded with far more force than the original Aegis.

               As the smoke cleared, the NEO ZEONG fell apart, leaving only a SAZABI desperately clinging to its wreckage.

               “I w-will not die…” said a faint, mechanical voice, one faintly like Rau’s.

               “No. Die like I did,” spat Nicol, crushing the core of the NEO ZEONG in his SAZABI’s hand.

               He lay in his SAZABI, shaking.

               The battle was almost over…everyone hoped.

               Just then, the golden armour of the Hyaku-Shiki appeared.

               “I guess that Kai Mode button really does work,” he said, the wings having ejected and two large gatling guns having taken their place. “Nicol, old friend, are you in there?” he said, knocking on the Sazabi.

               “N-no…no more…” Nicol said, thrashing and twitching. “Please…”

               “Kira,” Mu said into his comms. “You almost done?”

               The Mighty Strike Freedom soon filled his view—but it was standing on top of a large screen.

               “Attention, citizens of Shibuya. This is Kira Yamato. Please direct your attention to the screen.”

               Lacus Clyne and Reverend Malchio appeared onscreen.

               “Hello, everyone! Please, listen to my friend. To the man who raised me. He has a message for all of you!” Lacus said, stepping away to let the reverend speak.

               “I have heard a great deal about All We Like Sheep lately. I don’t listen to a lot of music, I’ll admit. Why, Lacus had to convince me to listen to one of her albums once. No, my music…is the world. Nature. The song of birds in the morning, or cicadas in summer, has always been enough for me. But…I know a lot about sheep. And the lambs of this world’s flock have been running astray for a long time. Coordinators, Naturals, Accords…all these labels for so many lost lambs that have never known a shepherd. Too many bad shepherds in this world—Rau, Durandal, the Kingdom of Foundation—all of these. And, well…Lacus did ask me to tell you one thing, one that I think is important. She didn’t come to this battle because she wanted you to decide for yourselves to choose a better tomorrow. It is a hard choice to make, but…you should want it for yourselves, not because someone tells you you should want it.”

               And with that cryptic statement, the reverend left, and Lacus reappeared.

               “Please…choose for yourselves. Nicol, choose for yourself. Is Rau’s nightmare what you really wanted?”

               Nicol opened the cockpit of his SAZABI, and as he climbed out, he lay back on the wreckage, crying softly.

--

The reports from the facility on Mendel leaked almost immediately. The world, naturally, was in outrage for all of a week before it was forgotten for an Alliance member’s scandalous private affairs.

               ZAFT, meanwhile, blew Mendel to dust.

               “Never again will this be used for unthinkable atrocities,” Yzak vowed.

               And as Yzak retook his post at his desk, he buzzed for Dearka.

               “Dearka, bring in the new Task Force X.”

               As the door opened, Dearka led in Courtney Cobain, Kagan Rose, and Nicol Amalfi.

               “Welcome to Task Force X, All We Like Sheep,” Yzak said. “You answer to me now. I believe you can turn your lives around. Prove me right.”

               “Does this mean we can’t release the new single?” Courtney asked.

               “New single?” Yzak said, surprised.

               A CD landed on his desk.

               It read, in black Sharpie, “SUCK IT, RAU.”

--

“The She-Wolf of Shibuya. That’s what they’re calling you,” Hilda said, over breakfast.

               Agnes blushed.

               “R-Really? That sounds even worse than Moonlight Valkyrie!”

               “No, I think it suits you,” Lunamaria. “You finally found people you wanted to protect. You took injuries for them and fought like hell to keep them alive.”

               Agnes’ efforts to hide her face led to her getting a face full of rice, which even Shinn had to laugh at.

               Kira Yamato appeared in the doorway.

               “My thanks to you for earlier, Destiny Dogs. You saved a lot of innocent lives. I would stay and chat, but unfortunately, I’m getting billed for repairs by several mercenary organizations, and I’m going to be busy for quite some time. If you decide to go on shore leave that is none of my business.”

               And with that, he left.

               “Shore leave where? Isn’t Shibuya toast?” Shinn wondered.

               “That still leaves a lot of other places,” Hilda pointed out.

               “Sweet. You wanna all go to Akihabara? I have an itch for some gaming, and they’ve got an online Gundam simulator there. Wanna go practice a bit?” Shinn said.

               “Shinn, if you wanna go to a maid café so badly, we could just buy the outfits for you,” Agnes teased.

               Shinn was crimson.

               “Hey, it’s not like that! I wanted to game!”

               “Oh, I know Shinn loves his games,” Hilda teased. “Take him to get some toys and if he’s a really good boy…”

               Shinn, far too crimson to finish eating, bolted for his room, Lunamaria noticing his suit was far too tight around the groin.

               “You devil,” Lunamaria said, laughing, as she and Agnes went to go relieve some of Shinn’s clearly post-battle tension.

               Hilda laughed.

               “My work here is done.”