The unwieldly Not-Gundam tried in vain to close the distance between itself and Arkhan’s creations. The crappy looking knockoff could barely control its own movement in the void, let alone keep moving in a straight line, and thus it bumbled around like an idiot. It would either overcompensate or undercompensate for its own movements and the movements of others on a seemingly random basis, constantly overshooting or undershooting its desired objective with all the carelessness one could have. It was quite humorous to watch it try and wobble its way through the near vacuum of space, only to jerk about in different directions while bumping into debris.

It was almost a game to the Mobile Suit Golems and Mobile Armor Golems, as they would stay just out of the reach of the Not-Gundam’s melee and ranged weapons. They would swoop past it at a distance just close enough to be just out of range, which would cause the Not-Gundam to try and turn to face the Golem only for it to spin and twist wildly as it failed to properly compensate for its own movement. Like they were playing a game of ‘Keep Away’, the creations of Arkhan toyed with the fake for a good twenty minutes before the fake decided to stop reacting to their provocations, something that everyone had not expected an Angel to do.

A Zeta Gundam that bore the name ‘Kamille Bidan’ approached the Not-Gundam to try and offer it a chance to surrender. After all, if they could get one of the fanatically zealous Angels to surrender instead of just killing them, they could use it as propaganda.

“Hello. I am Kamille Bidan of the Arcadian Solar Commonwealth. Since you no longer seem to want to fight, maybe we can have a peaceful, non-lethal resolution to this…”

“Shut up and fight me like a civilized being, Shamwow Bidet!”

“My name is Kamille Bida….”

“Wait… Kamille? That’s how you pronounce it?! That’s a girl’s name! Go back to the kitchen, xenos whore!”

Now, if there is something to be said about Kamille Bidan, it is that he could care less if you mispronounce his name. Another, more potent thing to know is that you never, never say that his name is a girl’s name because if you do…

“KAMILLE IS A MAN’S NAME, AND I’M A MAN!”

As Kamille roared his angry objection over a wideband frequency, he let a pair of explosives fly from the container in his form’s arm. The explosives detonated as they impacted the Angel-made crappy knockoff Gundam, and as the smoke cleared from its vision it saw the light of a beam saber closing in. The beam saber stuck itself into the face of the poorly designed and poorly made off-brand Gundam as Kamille backed up and fired a few shots from his long-range beam rifle, which severed the pilot’s control from the fake mobile suit’s limbs. Finally, Kamille (as a Zeta Gundam) transformed into its waverider mode and sped across the black expanse of space until the front of his waverider form embedded itself into the torso of the Not-Gundam.

The two of them were propelled by the powerful thrusters of Kamille’s waverider form until they both impacted the side of the wrecked Holy Union superdreadnought. Kamille put himself into reverse and as his waverider dislodged itself from the now inoperable fake golem, he transformed back from his waverider mode and tore out the beam saber he had lodged into the fake’s face, not pulling it back, but rather down so it cut through the chest of the Not-Gundam. Putting the beam saber away, Kamille then proceeded to punch and kick the downed mech a few more times while screaming stuff like, “WHO’S THE BITCH NOW?!” and “I BET YOUR NAME IS GIRLY! IT IS, ISN’T IT?!”

Eventually, the only thing that could stop Kamille from his rampage was the arrival of a Psyco Gundam Mk.I that just so happened to be Four Murasame. The massive Mobile Armor Golem managed to pry Kamille away from the pile of scrap that the Fake had become and held Kamille close to her chest. The two of them were each like a pacifier to the other, as they shared a special connection.

“It’s alright, Kamille. It’s over, they can’t do anything anymore. You don’t need to fight it, it’s gone.”

Four’s words calmed the raging mechanical shonen just enough for him to stop trying to further demolish the already wrecked fake, and the two of them flew off together back to base.

…

Asharia awoke to find herself in a bed aboard the ‘Adeptus Deorum’. This time, Arkhan was the one who was watching over her while she slept, mirroring the events of not too long ago. Asharia rose from her rest and pulled off the covers as Arkhan moved to give her space to do so herself.

“You were out for a long time. The war is already over. Not only that, but we control the entire galaxy. And you said that I slept for a long time; you were out for a good fifty years, more or less. Thank goodness for my ability to not age, otherwise I would be a crotchety old man by now!”

Arkhan seemed to imply that she had slept for far too long.

“Are you serious? That can’t be true. Well, even if it is true, I would be…”

A wry smile crossed Arkhan’s face.

“Of course it isn’t true. It hasn’t even been three hours since you fell out of your ‘space-kaiju’ mode. Are you thirsty or hungry? I have lots of stuff, so please don’t emulate Rampage and start eating everyone like a deranged monster, it would be bad for your image. And your waistline.”

Asharia’s face went from one of shock to one that was filled with mild annoyance.

“Please don’t do that again.”

“Then please don’t go berserk again.”

Asharia nodded a bit and acknowledged that yes, she did lose control.

“Hey, it had been quite a while since I shifted into my true form. The last time I did so was ages ago, and I just was out of practice.”

“So, the whole ‘eating people’ thing was just you being rusty with that form?”

Asharia hung on two of the words.

“Wait. I ate people?”

“Angels, more specifically. But yes, you did ‘eat people’. You don’t take massive bites out of a spaceship and gulp them down whole without inevitably ending up swallowing a few of the ship’s crew, either on purpose or by accident.”

Asharia walked over to one of the tables in the suite they were in, using her hands to support herself.

“Oh, fuck… I feel sick just thinking about it…”

Arkhan pointed towards the door and spoke in a solemn voice.

“If you are going to puke, do it in the vacuum of space where everything won’t cause immeasurable damage to my ship. Teleport away if you have to, but don’t you dare sink this ship by having the remains of another ship and much of its crew being vomited up inside of it. Neither of us would be able to live that down.”

Asharia took his advice and teleported to an unknown location, only to reappear a few hours later looking completely exhausted. Arkhan was still in the same room he had been in when his wife had awoken.

“That rough?”

“Shut it, boy. You try being ‘human sized’ and throwing up a good fifty million or so tons of materials of various consistencies when your mouth is only able to eject so much at any given point in time.”

“….”

Arkhan was too surprised to even be able to talk back at first, but eventually he did.

“Would have expected it to shrink with you. Thought it would be like eating way too much and then spitting it all back up…”

“No. It doesn’t work that way.” Asharia stated, her aggravation becoming more audible, “I really wish it did, but it doesn’t. I spent a good hour and a half of just vomiting up everything I could before I said, ‘screw it’ and went big. Only then was I able to get it all out. Thank my lucky stars that I knew the location of one of the biggest waste disposal sites in the Galaxy.”

Arkhan was confused.

“You went to a dump and spit all of that up? Is it some junk planet or something?”

Asharia chuckled as she sat down.

“Not even close. I spat everything up into the event horizon of the supermassive black hole in the center of the galaxy. Or to be more precise, I entered the event horizon and then spat everything up. Didn’t want anything to manage to somehow wind up in the wrong hands.”

Arkhan was now convinced that he should never try and fight his wife to the death. If she could withstand the destructive force of the event horizon of a black hole and walk away with not even a scratch, then it stood to reason that he (at least right now) had no way to counter her.

“What place in the Tier listings are you?” Arkhan thought to himself as Asharia picked up the daily news and began to read like nothing had happened.