Worlds Apart

By Mieren


Naruto Uzumaki was not a happy camper. In all of his infinite compassion and wisdom, Kakashi had sent Team Seven into the Forest of Death to train. That in itself wouldn't have been so horribly bad but for the fact that the man, in a moment of sheer sadistic evilness, had waited until the skies had started to pour down freezing rain to send them out. A layer of ice was forming on the trees and ground, making the dangerous area downright deadly. Shivering violently, Naruto was already devising ways to make the silver-haired jounin suffer, mollifying himself with visions of paper clips, feminine products and four hundred pounds of flour. Over the three years he'd studied under Kakashi, he'd become damn creative and more than a little vindictive.

Unfortunately, the vengeful plotting distracted Naruto from what he was supposed to be doing. Absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't notice a tripwire until he'd hooked his ankle around it, setting off dozens of exploding tags and a single blood-streaked scroll. Panicking, he teleported to escape the blast, vanishing in a cloud of smoke just as the shockwave hit him. Something within him jarred painfully and he lost consciousness.


It was not Duo Maxwell's day. He'd been sent on what was virtually a suicide mission out in the middle of freaking nowhere to destroy a suspected arsenal of mobile suits. Much to his dismay, he learned quickly upon arrival that the anonymous tip had been partially accurate, leaving him alone against more than a thousand suits. The problem was that they hadn't been informed that the things would be occupied. Gundam or no Gundam, he was boned.

"Screw this," Duo muttered, yanking open a control panel. He fiddled with the wires expertly, altering the feed to his thermal scythe. If he was going to die, he was going to do so in the midst of a massacre. Closing his eyes, he punched a command into the keyboard.

Air whipped by him at physically damaging speeds as Deathscythe ejected him in a predetermined sequence, still strapped into his seat. Duo could feel gravity reverse as he headed back towards the ground, his stomach rising into his throat. He didn't dare open his eyes, not wanting to watch as he plummeted back to Earth, protected only by an altimeter fitted to the parachute built into his chair. The oversized chute would violently unfurl at one hundred and fifty feet above the ground, slowing him down almost instantly at trauma-inducing speeds but hopefully preventing the fall from becoming lethal. He didn't want to be in the air for any length of time as a target, but he didn't fancy the idea of becoming a human pizza either.

A massive jerk almost ripped him from his protective strapping and knocked the breath from his lungs. Despite himself, his eyes snapped open just in time to see the ground rushing up to meet him. And a blast of energy slam into him from his self-destructed Gundam.


To Be Continued…

And so the madness begins. This is just a little teaser to set the stage for the unholy terror of a story I have mostly written. I have roughly 160 pages of this written up in a notebook somewhere. When I'm able to read what I wrote, I'll type it up. Inspire me and R&R!