Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Mahasamahdi ❯ One ( Chapter 1 )

Mahasamahdi

Warnings: I think its AU, though there are still Gundams. Maybe its just TWT. Not sure. It's also Yoai, has elements of a deathfic, though it is not exactly a deathfic (can't explain any furher you'll have to wait and see). Duo POV. It has…err…Angst, torture, sci-fi themes…yeah. The usual.

Death row is a state of mind.
--Doris Ann Foster

-One-

What does it feel like, you ask? Well, to know that you would have to hear the whole story, and to hear the whole story is to step so far out of the things you have known and into the unknown, that you will not come out alive. I do not mean you will experience death in a physical sense, but that you will no longer be who you are now. You will be someone else; a you that is yet to be yet might not be. The only question is, are you strong enough to take the plunge?

A month ago I would have said yes, had you asked me. I was cocky, self assured and firm in my belief that I was indestructible. They say it is the curse of the young, to believe god cannot touch you, but that has never been true for me. God has touched me all my life, and will no doubt continue to do so. He has taken things I cared nothing for and things that meant everything in equal proportion, for in his eyes they are so. That does not make them such in my own vision. A life, to me, means everything. Which makes it rather ironic that I was so willing to give up my own.

I was, and am, fifteen years old. My name was, and is Duo Maxwell. These things are changeable; I was given each. I was born with neither. They are not important to me. Why? I did not earn them. My braid I have earnt with much spilt blood and shed tears. My braid stands for things other people would rather forget, but my enduring them has made them mine, and hence too the braid. I say once more; I have earnt them. Why is this important? How is it not? It is in the earning of something that value is derived and the value of life is immeasurable.

What I am about to tell you is how I earnt my life. How I squandered it, toyed with it, plunged it through fire again and again thinking it immortal and untouchable only to discover I was yet to feel the heat of the flame. This is the story of how I won that life back from myself; won it back from Shinigami.

It starts with a war. It often does. Why? Because wars makes us believe in things we otherwise would never see, and in those things we find ourselves. We discover what it means to be me. I found myself, and I found a family. I also found fear, and that fear was all consuming. I did not fear death as so many did. I feared I would bring it in such grievous amounts that none would ever forgive me.

When it began I was nothing. A street rat; social vermin. I have a past I am not proud of and I certainly didn't earn it. It was given to me on a tattered, broken platter and I had no option but to accept. However, when death touches you it cannot fail to change you, and I was altered. I discovered early the implications of death's totality. I learnt my lesson well. So, when confronted with a machine capable of bringing death in volumes even I could not contemplate I did the only thing I knew how. Stole.

I stole a Gundam. An ingenious machine capable of extraordinary destruction, this beast was aptly named Deathscythe. It was the tool Shinigami used to bring death to offenders. Offenders of what, you ask? Peace. Life. Happiness. All the things I had never experienced and hence had hungered for all my life.

It was while piloting Deathscythe that Shinigami met his downfall. A man. Simple, ordinary, living flesh. Flesh that could not die. I watched in fascination as it tried again and again to meet my maker; our maker. Never once did it succeed. It made me wonder if death was escapable after all. If there wasn't at least one person in the universe I was incapable of destroying.

*

"Heero!" I bellowed because I knew my normal speaking voice would not carry across the hanger. I also knew it would be more likely to annoy the perfect soldier, and my main aim in life, at least on the outside, was to annoy Heero Yuy. Can you blame me?

"Baka!" Heero snapped back as he clambered over the arm of his Gundam trying to fix a hole in the thick arm. Wing had been damaged during a recent failed attempt to self detonate that had left me fuming and Heero in a hospital for ten days before I had managed to break him out. I was still mad. How could I not be? The man was determined to kill himself when everyone knew he was the heart of the resistance against Oz and Romafella.

"I need a new guidance system. This one's shot. I won't be able to find carrier in harbor with this, let alone one at sea!" It was true. My latest mission had left my precious Deathscythe out of commission to the point I hardly recognized it. It had taken two weeks of endless labor to get it operational. All I needed was the guidance system. That did not mean I had to get it from Heero. In fact, I had a perfectly good replacement in the cockpit. I just wanted to annoy Heero. Death wish? Nah.

Something came flying through the air. My eyes must have looked like Quatre's tea saucers when I realized whatever it was was going to crash against the arm of Deathscythe. I leapt to my feet and ran, hoping my balance would hold. Luckily it did and I found myself standing in Deathsythe's palm, a circuit board in my hand that could only be a guidance system. Ten points for efficiency to the perfect soldier, not that is would have been any good had I not realized it was going to plunge to its doom.

Frowning, I disappeared inside my cockpit to brood. Yes, brood. I'll admit it. Get me in the right mood and I'm the best damned brooder there is. Okay, so maybe second. Even I'll admit Trowa is good.

I sat in the pilots chair and began stuffing the new guidance system into the front panel. I wasn't concerned with how messy it all looked. Whether or not it was pretty was not a concern. It just had to work. I flicked the switch and my buddy came to life. Flicking a switch the system immediately honed in on Wing and the Scythe lined up perfectly with Heero's cockpit. I was over the moon. I had finished my repairs before Heero, the not so perfect after all soldier.

So I have a complex when it comes to Heero. Don't you? You should try working with him! Climbing down Deathscythe, I couldn't help a low chuckle of triumph as Heero continued to beat away at that busted arm. I even whistled as I left the hanger and headed for the safe house.

Safe house. I wonder why they call it that. I mean, its not like the house is actually safe. It's the lack of knowledge in people's minds about the location of a place that makes it safe, not the building itself. People make things safe. The lack of people.

Shaking my head, I opened the door and nodded at Wufei, who was coming down the stairs to the kitchen. He seemed annoyed. It didn't take long to find out why.

"Suit up Maxwell, we have a mission."

"With you?" I was completely tactless with Wufei, entirely on purpose. Wufei was almost as fun to annoy as Heero. At least he made indignant responses at times!

"Now Maxwell!"

And that was how it all began. A mission, seemingly no different from any other, only this one would decide whether I lived or died. At least, it would bring me to a point where I would have to decide.

-End One-