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"Sensus Divinitatis"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements,
Ghosts, Demons, Apocalypse, Major character death, blood, gore, violence Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 5x6 Summary: It begins with a prophecy and ends with
Judgement Day. What happens in between will determine the fate of
the human race. The murders of the Gundam Pilots was only the catalyst.
The beginning of the end. " Sensus Divinitatis" Chapter 3: June 23th, AC 206, 5:36am Relena Peacecraft gazed out the large stained glass window in the parlor of her villa located on the outskirts of Sanq. Heavy rain had been falling uncharacteristically for two days, causing ponding and flooding in the region's low-lying areas. Villagers were tirelessly working to minimize the damage by filling bags of sand and building temporary levies to keep out the over-abundance of water and protect the village's infrastructure. The excess precipitation began in the late evening hours of June 21st and had not stopped since. It seemed the earth itself was grieving. Relena hadn't moved much since she'd received the call from Sally about the murder of her friends. She hadn't eaten, or slept. She just sat, numbly watching the rain through the window. The house was silent except for the heavy percussion hitting the roof and pounding against the siding and windows. She'd stopped every timepiece in the house the moment she'd been told what had happened. It was the first thing she'd done. Looking back, she almost laughed at the absurdity of her state of mind. She didn't know why she'd been overcome with the compulsion to cease the progression of the clocks. It was an old-fashioned custom, out of practice long before the colonies even existed. They were the antique kind that her grandmother had been so fond of. In this day and age, digital clocks were the norm, but like her grandmother, Relena preferred the ornate beauty of the hand-carved wooden clocks from the days where life was simpler. When handmade craftsmanship was held in high regard, before the industrial revolution forever changed the landscape of manufacturing. Relena loved to listen to their soothing, tick tock, tick tock, and the melodic chimes that marked every quarter hour. Jillian, her servant and companion was her only company since she'd learned of the terrible fate of her friends. With the exception of her and Sally, Relena refused to see, or speak to anyone else. Instead, she sat, watching out the window as the world washed away in a sea of gloom and torrential rain, and she thought it might not be a terrible way to meet one's end. She imagined herself, sitting as she was now, at the walnut table that was used at tea time. She imagined being engulfed as water filled the room and indeed, the whole villa. She imagined the frigid water swirling around her feet and ankles, slowly rising up to consume her calves and within minutes, it would lap at her waist. She imagined feeling the icy cold grip of hypothermia as the water rose to her chest. She imagined her breath hitching in panic as the water reached her chin, her mouth, her nose, and finally swallowing her whole. She imagined sitting under the water, her body numb from the cold, still staring out the window...and seeing the hazy silhouettes of her five deceased friends, watching, waiting to see if she'd succumb to the freezing temperatures first, or the lack of oxygen. She imagined a flash and suddenly they were right outside her window. All five of them. Looking exactly the same as they had the last time she'd seen them, only a month ago. Their faces wavered and distorted, blurred around the edges as she stared at them through the murky water. They stared back, their emotionless eyes chilling her to the bone. She wanted to go to them, to ask them what happened. Who had done this to them? But she found she couldn't move. She was frozen to her chair. She could feel her lungs beginning to spasm, fighting to take a breath and she pressed her lips together. Her survival instincts took over as the muscles in her mouth and throat convulsed, trying to force her to breathe. She shook her head in a futile attempt to prevent it, knowing that if she did, she would suck in a lungful of water and drown. The eerily calm faces of her friends still watched her through the stained glass window. The edges of her vision began to blacken and spread into her direct line of sight. She felt light headed and woozy from lack of air. She was losing consciousness. She was drowning. She found herself on the cusp of life and death. Her brain fired out desperate signals in a frenzied attempt to hold on to precious life. Trying to get her body to do something, anything to keep it alive. And still she sat, immobile. A fraction of a second before she succumbed to eternal blackness, another flash went off behind her eyes. The dead Gundam Pilots outside the window were no longer there, but instead directly in front of her. Their faces hovered inches from hers. Their mouths opened in a silent scream, but still their eyes remained lifeless. As her eyes rolled back into her head and her body went lax with death, a voice whispered against her ear, sounding ridiculously clear despite the roar of the water. Her dying brain recognized the voice, not registering the impossibility. The voice, non-sensical in her mind, hissed two words in a language long forgotten... "...elena? Miss Relena!" Relena jolted. She convulsed and flailed, nearly falling out of her chair. She leaned forward, gripping the table to keep her balance, overcome with dizziness. Her body, now realizing that there was precious oxygen to breathe, drew lungfuls of it to replete her starved brain. She choked and coughed and hacked, greedily gulping in mouthfuls of air. Her mind snapped to awareness and she frantically looked around the room and outside the window for the five young men who had been so brutally taken from the world. They were here. She'd seen them. Jillian was still shouting her name, shaking her shoulder with a trembling hand. There were tears in her eyes. She was panicked as she tried to rouse Relena from what looked like a horrible seizure. She'd thought her friend was dying. Relena had gone rigid, her body stiffened like a steel beam. It was frighteningly reminiscent of the time Jillian found her dead father, deep into post mortem rigor mortis. Relena had stopped breathing. Then she'd twitched and shook with uncontrollable tremors and her eyes rolled back into her head. She'd been completely unresponsive. Relena finally seemed to come around. The color returning to her face as she regained full cognizance. "Where are they?" Relena asked, desperately. "Who?" "The - the boys...my friends. They were here." "The ones who were killed?" "Yes! They were here!" Relena slapped the table and looked out the window again. She saw only her yard, saturated in heavy rain. Nothing more. Nothing less. "Miss Relena, there's no one here but you and I. Maybe we should get you to a hospital." Relena shook her head. "No. I don't need a hospital. I'm not crazy. They were here and I saw them. I don't know why, but I think they were trying to tell me something." "Miss Relena, I must respectfully disagree. You had some sort of fit. You stopped breathing! You turned blue! I'm really worried about you!" "I'm fine now." Relena waved her hand. "Really, I'm okay! You don't need to worry about me. I'll be fine. I'm probably just tired. I've barely gotten any sleep. Maybe I should just get some rest." Jillian looked dubious, but she knew her mistress was as stubborn as they came. If she didn't want to do something, it wasn't going to happen. "Well...okay. If you're sure. Are you sure you're alright?" "Yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm just very tired." Relena said with mild impatience, not wanting to be coddled. "I'm just going to lie down for a while." "Yes, Miss Relena. Can I get you anything?" "No, I don't need anything. I'm just going to get some rest." "I'll draw you a hot bath when you get up. Do you think you might be able to eat something tonight?" "Mmm...perhaps. I'll let you know later. No need to fuss now, I'll be alright." "Yes, Madame." Jillian busied herself with clearing the tea table while Relena stood and stretched, still a little unsteady. Her mind reeled at what she'd just experienced. What on earth had just happened to her? Did she really just see ghosts? Was she hallucinating as a result of grief and exhaustion? She slowly climbed the stairs, holding the rail tightly to keep her balance. Jillian stood at the bottom of the stairwell, nervously watching to make sure Relena didn't stumble, or worse, and take a fall down the stairs. Relena reached the top without incident and shuffled to her bedroom at the end of the hall. Closing the door, she all but collapsed on top of the chenille bedspread. Air hissed from her lungs in a heaving sigh. Her eyelids drooped and she found she could no longer keep them open. The faces of her murdered friends haunted her mind's eye as she drifted off into a fitful sleep. She suddenly remembered the voice beside her ear. What had it said? She couldn't remember and it frustrated her. But she'd recognized that voice and the implications of what that could possibly mean terrified her beyond comprehension. It was her brother's voice...
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