(Heartbeat)

Shi no Kami, the God of Death

 

There is no light in space.  It’s just dark and cold.  Everywhere you look on your monitors there is nothing but chunks of debris.  An arm, a leg, a head of what use to be a Leo... now nothing more than pieces of scrap metal with wires hanging off of it.  There’s nothing on your radar to indicate the source of the carnage, only the endless expanse of slagged mobile suits that surround you as a dying testament to failure.  A whole squadron, decimated.

 

Then it is there.  You feel its presence more than you see it, like the icy grip of Death’s hand that now sits on the back of your neck.  As you break out into a cold sweat, you realize just exactly how vulnerable you are strapped into the belly of a titanium-skinned tin can.  And while you’re contemplating your new-found mortality, it speaks to you over your communications relay, its voice quite a bit younger than you would have imagined, husky with anger bordering on rage.

 

“The God of Death is back from Hell!”

 

Suddenly, it’s before you, a darkness that threatens to swallow you like a black hole.  The demonic green of its eyes chills you more than the hand and commands your undivided attention.  Your heart pounds as the adrenaline pumps through your system in rapidly increasing doses.  But you still can’t tear yourself away from those eyes...or the flaming twin-bladed scythe that has burst into life.  Black and silver wings, four your soldier mind duly notes, open, revealing the golden ribcage of the monstrosity before you.  In the open chest cavity, you can swear you can see a heart beating.

 

Alarms sound around you as your radar finally picks up on what you’ve been seeing all along.  Startled shouts and curses filter through the comm., indicating the others have picked up on what you already knew; this behemoth was the source of the destruction around you, and your squad is next on the list.

 

The creature rushes you, moving with startling speed and agility.  On instinct, you throw your control in reverse, somehow managing to escape under the charge.  As it passes over, you can see the ornate white tribal tattoo running along the edge of its helmet, its golden headdress bent into a devil’s horns.  It reminds you of a gargoyle you once saw in the ruins of an ancient Earth castle; both beautiful and terrible, all at the same time.

 

The shield upon its left arm opens in another explosion of fire and light, scissor-like blades extending before firing straight through a companion not more than two hundred meters away.  The very small part of your mind that’s still rational finds it amusing that a spiked star, or is it a cross?, decorates the front like the coat of arms of a medieval knight.  Screams of terror and denial echo through the cockpit as suit after suit is destroyed, perfectly counter pointing the low chuckling of the demon striking them down.

 

Now you are the last one standing, your team nothing more than fizzling circuitry and ripped armour platting.  The white skeletal being wrapped in a cloak and armour of shadows finally turns to you, green eyes flaring, scorching your soul to ashes.  Your instincts scream at you to run, to fire your weapon, to do something other than sit there.  But you can’t, and you don’t, because you finally understand that this creature, this demon, this dark god is the manifestation of Death itself.  And as it slowly approaches you, an expert swing of the scythe rending your suit in half, you find yourself for the first time ever reflecting upon the afterlife and whether or not you’re already in hell...

 

Silence falls, the minute of excitement over and forgotten already.  The black shade known as the Gundam Deathscythe Hell floats in the halo of rubble, as cold and as unforgiving as Space itself.  Its chestnut braided pilot let’s out a sigh of relief and leans back in his chair, one hand behind his head while the other idly plays with the chain of the cross around his neck.  This true incarnation of Death, the soul of the machine, smiles smugly to himself, violet eyes alight with satisfaction and mischief.  After letting the silence stretch for a few more moments, he opens up all his speakers to let the heavy bass beat of his victory song ring out over the wreckage.

 

The heartbeat of Shinigami continues on...

 

OWARI ~ TK’02