It was so easy.
A turn, raise the arm, strike-- almost like dancing, he couldn't help but think. Arm down, smooth and steady, straight through-- two more Leos fell. The explosions reminded him of bright flowers.
Oops, missed one. Slash, like reaping wheat, easy and practiced. Another explosion, no trouble at all. Briefly Duo imagined what the pilot saw-- brightness, and then nothing. Death was swift.
Flames, everywhere, causing shadows in the cockpit to dance. Duo watched them, smiling still. They were the flames of Hell, come to embrace him... He had danced with them, with their music, their great crescendo of destruction. His soul spiraled down with the aria of Death.
"I am the God of Death..." he whispered, closing his eyes. "They were unbelievers, and now they are no more..." He sighed, reveling in the dark beauty of the music and the dance.
His comm crackled to life. "Duo? Are you okay?" Quatre's voice was tinny, but concerned.
Duo opened his eyes slowly. I am the God of Death...
"Yeah," he replied at last, "I'm just peachy." His voice sounded distant, even with the comm's distortion-- cool and strange. Quatre frowned and flipped on his vidscreen, needing to see the braided boy...
The figure on the screen raised his head very slowly. Eyes like stained glass peered back at him, beautiful and shining and utterly--
Quatre was shaken. "D-Duo?"
The other boy smiled, a twist of the lips that did not reach his eyes. "Yeah, Quatre. Let's go." The vidscreen flipped off.
Quatre sat for a moment, heart thudding in his ears. So that's... the face of Death...
Then he turned Sandrock around, leaving the dancing flames and the wreckage behind.
Duo sat in the cockpit's darkness and smiled, staring off into infinity. It truly had been a lovely dance...