General Disclaimer: I don't own the Gundam Pilots. I don't own the Gundams. It would be fantastic if I did, but I don't. I do own the characters of Heaven and Hell

Goddess of Death

Prologue:

It was cold and rainy outside. The land hadn't seen a storm like this in almost a decade as the winters had been relatively mild. The snow fell indefinitely from an endless sea of velveteen midnight blue, snow drifts piling over two feet tall in some places. The thunder crashed across the lands above a small town in the heart of a mountainous valley. While the lightning was feral for one moment, the next second it purred after a thunderous clap like a lover come calling, and the entire country, town, and the valley below could be seen in the overlaying whiplash of light. A figure passed by wearing a cloak that blended with the darkness above. The hood covered their entire face stopping the casual eye of a young child from figuring out whether or not the mysterious person was male, female, or human at all.

The child gazed down at the figure moving through the harsh weather, straining against the darkness and a world that couldn't decide if it was light or dark. Aware of the presence of the child, the figure suddenly stopped, turning to face the child staring from the second story of a house , and in the dead of night and a blinding flash of lighting, the little girl in question could clearly see the eyes, glowing a beautiful steel gray color were that of a female. Flowing like music on the rain the child heard something. Like the ringing of a thousand illustrious bells, a voice called out to the child; soft at first, but then clear, and finally soft again as it died away.

"Sleep, my beautiful child. Sleep, and when you wake up, the world as we know it will be yours, for I am a speaker of words. I know who you are, child. You, Anarhria Racello, will become the great Goddess of Death. You will meet five beautiful yet dangerous young men, and you will meet your counterpart in the land of heaven, the Great Warrior Woman. All this will not happen in this time of 1996; you will wake up in the year 184 A.C. where you will flourish in a world of wonders and fanaticism. Sleep now, my beautiful child, and let the world fear you, for when you wake up as your true self your true life will begin."

The child fell on top of the window seat, the window swinging open to bring in the harsh rains, drenching everything in its contact. The child fell into a deep sleep, laying gently over the windowsill, hanging half out in wet. The figure outside, knowing the fact that she was dying even as the child only slept, smiled her last smile. The black leather pants she wore fell as she crumbled to the ground. In the blink of an eye, all that was left of the mysterious soothsayer was only a pile of clothes carried away by the wind, and a cloak whipping in boughs of a tree beyond the house.