I Dreamed of Angels [Epilogue]
At fifteen, Trowa felt damned to be living in an era of war and bloodshed. Having lost his family as an infant and having lived the life of a stray orphan had taught him how to survive the hardships. Perhaps being taken in by kind enough mercenaries had given him the necessary skills to survive and yet it wasn't enough to shelter him from the emotional backlog that he had to deal with in the battlefield. Despite the cold exterior, Trowa was just like any other frightened child at the sight of destruction. It was a horrific sight that seemed to follow him around at every corner.
Operation Meteor, as the eccentric scientist had called it, was probably his most meaningful retreat. It provided him with a reason to fight and it provided him with a reason to continue his battles. In truth, the colonial wars had not gained much of his interest. The usual missions since he landed on earth were no more than a distraction from his aimless search.
Ever since he'd woken up from a mysterious nightmare, he hadn't been able to get his mind off the scene. It was a dream just like any other that many had told before. But there was something different about this dream that bothered him to no end. It was as if it was a puzzle waiting to be solved or perhaps a warning for what was to come.
Nevertheless, Trowa kept his mind focused on the missions. One wrong move meant his destruction as well as the ruin of the cause he was fighting for. Perhaps childish imaginations were filling his head, making him satiated amidst the loud wracks and pitiful screams of the soldiers that lost their lives.
As he secured his gundam, the symbol of his fight, he stared at the polished red metal that glinted off the feeble light penetrating its covering. It would be dark soon and it was best that he got some rest and start his day by finding a sufficient place where he could hide himself. He was a bit reluctant to close his eyes, knowing that his dreams would be filled with fantasies that only existed in dreams. Nevertheless, he gave in, hoping that the next day would prove to be different.
The days continued as such keeping him busy with mechanical chores. Every mission meant the annihilation of another base, another incompetent group, and another foolish leader. His newest mission was no different.
Corsica, as the base was called, was huge, looking formidable despite the weak defenses that presented itself before him. Estimating how much firepower he needed to use against the enemies, he knew that he would have enough to complete his mission. It was going to be easy. Their leader was weak.
Commander Bonaparte was a fool and his foolish decision lead to his destruction. Now his soldiers were coming toward him, intent on destroying him the way he had mercilessly killed their leader.
"It's only natural," Trowa thought to himself as he prepared his gattling gun to fire.
When no bullets came, he used the alternative, retrieving the knife that the mobile suit had hidden. He wasn't going to die yet. There was still a reason to fight. He would not leave the earth until he found what he had been looking for.
Just as he thought about that a rain of bullets came from behind, effectively completing his job of defeating the enemy. What came next was an unidentified mobile suit that jumped up in the air and crushed the last of the enemies.
"Interesting," he thought. "Oz has a new ally. But, they should never underestimate my capabilities."
He swung his knife forward, intending to finish off the new mobile suit with whatever he had left. It was distracted at the moment and that was his chance. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough. Maybe he underestimated the potential of the new suit that suspiciously looked like it had wings coming off from its shoulders.
He continued to swing his blade and kick but it seemed like the enemy had as much power as he had. It was a useless fight but he still believed that he was going to be the victor. He wasn't prepared to die.
"Not until I find what I'm looking for," he thought.
After that, the other mobile suit shut down, it's pilot coming out of the cockpit as if in surrender. Trowa blinked at the sight. It was not as he expected. The pilot was even more glorious than the suit itself. The sun was shining bright that day, beaming down on the imprudent but nevertheless beautiful boy. Now what kind of person would he be if he sliced the boy in half like he originally planned?
Losing his resolve, Trowa left his cockpit as well, raising his hands in surrender. He was quite satisfied that he came out and had a closer look at the enchanted figure with the sweet voice. Perhaps, it was time that he did surrender. He knew somehow that this was going to be his most magnificent defeat.
"Let the show begin," Trowa though in his mind as he continued to stare at the pleasant blonde who had a smile on his face and some silly looking goggles on his head.
His search had finally ended.
The wind blew in through the cockpit of his mobile suit, forcing open a journal that lay hidden within the compartment of the red mecha. The sun filtered through the clouds, illuminating the open book while the wind continued to go through its pages. When the skies were satisfied, the wind died down, leaving the book at an open page. The page looked blank save for the small inscription that was placed simply in the middle of the page.
"I still dream of angels. The only difference is that this time, I'm sure that they dream of me too."
Note: I'd like to thank everyone who supported me in writing and completing this fic. Your comments and suggestions have been wonderful. You've all been a great inspiration. ^_^