11 - Cast to the Winds

[Shadow Phoenix]

OOC: Continued from Page 1, two posts in a row

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The large steel door slammed shut behind them, clicking and whirring as hundreds of bolts snapped into place. Bax shook a little and he stopped to look back at the entrance. Black Spider took another couple steps before he stopped.
“Something on your mind?”
Bax looked at him with wary eyes, “It is going to be a lot harder to get out.”
The shape shifter laughed. “I suppose we won’t be able to get out the same way once we have what we want. And Lieutenant whatshisname will be expecting us, probably some time in the next 20 minutes. After that, they’ll be looking for us and might figure out that we’re not who we say we are. If we have to enter a combat situation, I won’t be able to keep your disguise. So we gotta move quick.”
“Get in, get the maps, and get out.”
“Right. You know where we’re goin?”
“We are going to the 47th floor of the Murphy building.”
“And where’s that?”
Bax looked left, then right, and sighed. “I do not know.”
“Well shit,” the shape shifter said. “Let’s get movin then.”

The two disguised men began moving swiftly through the city. Bax noticed immediately that this place was a lot different than Midgar, or either of the other two cities Bax had been in on Earth. Midgar had a lot of slums, and its buildings were often in various states of disrepair. It had a minimal police force, and seemed to be mostly filled with lower middle class people. It had high rises, but appeared almost haphazardly thrown together. It functioned, but was very crowded with urban sprawl. The Super City was absolutely gigantic, with lots of large buildings and good technology. And Nibelheim was dusty and had mostly one and two story buildings.

But Zion, while fairly small in circumference, stretched upward to crown the high walls with enormous buildings wrought of steel and glass. Though it was nightfall, troops were still actively patrolling the city with shouldered guns and stern faces. Lights were on everywhere, but the city still seemed somehow dark and foreboding. Almost every building looked the same, and the streets were narrow. Bax felt claustrophobic—like everything would fall in and crush him at any moment. It was also cold, especially compared to the desert. Bax felt a chill in the air. The city buzzed with noise and activity, but the people here barely seemed alive. The soldiers shuffled by, never turning to the side except to go down a different road. Cars rolled by humming, and civilians on the sidewalks rushed back to their homes with blank faces. Everything and everyone seemed distant even though they were so close.

The air was thick and heavy, though there was no layer of smog like there usually was over Midgar. It was almost as though the dark air was suffused with the unyielding power of Senate rule. There was no graffiti, no appearance of crime or pollution, and very little color. The city was gray and dull, even though it teemed with activity. It made Bax shiver…

More than once, Bax had to remember that he was disguised. Some obviously higher ranking officers looked his way and he almost froze in terror at being discovered here so deep in enemy territory. But all he had to do was look down at his hands to remind himself that no one here would recognize him.

Black Spider and Bax swiftly passed through the streets, making a point to look like they were in a hurry on official business so that no one would bother them. Bax knew that they would be lucky to find the Murphy Building before people started looking for them, but he clung to a little bit of hope as they rushed around. Both men looked up at buildings, trying to remain inconspicuous as they gazed upward like the tourists they were, searching for building names.

“What happens if we do not find it in time?” Bax asked in a terse whisper.
Black Spider gazed around for a moment to make sure that no one was listening to them. “They send soldiers after us to inquire why we haven’t reported in. They’ll try to take us into custody, which we won’t let happen. So we’ll have to fight.”
“Then the whole city will be after us.”
“Right. It’ll be hard as hell to get out.”
“Could you manage?”
Black Spider was silent for a moment. Bax could sense he was uncomfortable with the question. “Black Spider?” he said, checking to see if he heard him. But the shape shifter remained silent. “Fashalt?” Bax reached out, using the man’s real name.
“Don’t call me that, Bax,” he snapped back.
Bax bit his lip, “Sorry.”

“I don’t know, Bax” the shape shifter admitted, after a moment. I could get myself out no problem. But you…I can’t guarantee getting us both out if things don’t go well.”
Bax’s mind raced. He hated being weak like this…he felt like he was holding Black Spider back, weighing him down. What could he do to help their chances? What could he contribute? What could he…

If he let him take over…just for a while until they got out…maybe that could…

Bax shook his head. No. He couldn’t think like that. Besides, he could handle this, right?

“Bax, you look like an idiot. Stop the inner monologue and focus.”
Bax felt a cold sweat overtake him and he breathed out harshly as he wiggled his fingers and tried to defuse his tension. “Right…could you redisguise us? New identities?”
“The moment I change, I won’t be able to focus on you. There’s nowhere for else to hide, either.”
Bax picked up the pace and caught up with Black Spider, whose strides were a little longer than Bax’s. “Can we ask someone? Find out somehow?”
Black Spider thought for a moment and glanced back at Bax. “No asking. And I would put out a blanket telepathic search, but that requires too much focus to maintain your illusion.”

Bax realized then that they had rushed into this situation without the proper planning that such an operation probably should have required. But time was of the essence, and they didn’t have any to waste. But they knew next nothing about this place. It really was a suicide mission, and Bax had let his excited emotions get the best of him. That wasn’t like him. That wasn’t like him at all.

“Bax, your nervousness is not helping at all. I’m an empath, remember? Cut it out.”
Bax gasped as he looked down and saw the area around his hands blurring and shifting back.
“Fuck,” the shape shifter said. “I was afraid of that.”
Bax’s hand returned to normal and he looked up, trying to stifle the terror on his face.
“That’s why I wanted to talk out loud. I’m at my mental limit maintaining my shape and yours.”
Bax took a deep breath and nodded. “Right. Sorry.”
“Just keep looking.”

Bax’s sense of time was blurred, but he felt like it had been about twenty minutes by now. And they still had not found the Murphy Building. It was only a matter of time now…

Black Spider stopped abruptly and held his hand backward to indicate that Bax also ought to stop. Bax held his breath (as though the soldiers in the area would hear his breath and know he was an impostor) and waited for further instructions.
“The soldiers near here were just informed that they should look for us. We need to be careful.”
“How do you know?”
“I heard the transmission.”
Bax furrowed his brow. Phoeniyans were known for their hearing…he hadn’t heard anything. How could Black Spider have heard…

“Come on,” Black Spider said after a silent minute. He surged forward and Bax lurched ahead as though he were being dragged by an invisible leash. Unknown to Bax, , there were three squads of soldiers converging on their location because of their typical patrol routes—one from behind, one from ahead and to the right, and one from even further ahead. Black Spider was trying to time their movements so that they would stay ahead of the soldiers behind them while avoiding detection by either of those in front of them. They would have to be perfect.

Bax saw a squad pass ahead, and he felt his head-flame flicker in nervousness. They moved to the left, across the street, about half a block ahead. Black Spider kept moving, so Bax did too. As they reached the other side of the street, the impostors reached the corner and turned abruptly to the right. On the other side of the street, looming large in the night sky was the Murphy Building. A small modest sign on the ground outside announced its presence, illuminated by a handful of lights. The two looked at each other, exchanged staid smiles, and scampered across the street.

At the building’s entrance, the two found themselves in a slight predicament. The process to even get into the lobby of the building was ridiculous. Eye scan, fingerprint scan, and voice recognition. If just the entrance was like this, Bax was worried what else they would find inside. But he felt confident that Black Spider could get them in with his shifting abilities.
“This is not a problem, is it?” he asked with a tinge of hope in his voice.
Black Spider mulled that question over in his mind for a moment as he examined the system before him. “Unfortunately, yeah, it is.”
Bax’s eyes widened. “Why?”
“I’ve never been here before, and I don’t know anyone who has. For all I know, an unauthorized person who tries to access this could be arrested in ten seconds flat. We have to be careful.”
Bax fought the urge to pace, and threw out the first thought that came to his head. “Eve! She used to work here as a student before her days in the Magi.”
The shape shifter considered that. “But if your other information is correct, then the Magi have been exiled from the Senate. Even if her credentials were still on file and could let us in, her appearance would raise as much alarm here as our own.”

The two went back and forth for a minute, trying to figure out what to do while keeping an eye out for soldiers. They barely noticed the bespectacled, white-coated man who walked near them and said “Excuse me, sirs.”
Black Spider whirled around and saw the man wanting to access the terminal they were standing near. The wheels started turning in Black Spider’s head almost right away. His face lit up in surprise and a smile stretched across his face. “My God, it’s Dr. Pennington!” he exclaimed, slyly reading the embroidered lettering on the man’s coat.
The man appeared surprised, and he looked around as though there might be another Dr. Pennington nearby. “Why yes, that’s me,” he said meekly. “And you are?”
“Private Roberts,” he said. Bax noticed that even though Black Spider’s appearance hadn’t changed, the insignia and name on his uniform had. Sly.
“And this is my friend, Private Dunham.” Bax nodded his head politely, but kept his mouth shut. He had changed their names just in case this scientist, who obviously didn’t recognize them, had heard the report.
“I’m a big fan of your work, Dr.,” Black Spider said. He extended his hand excitedly. “May I shake your hand?”
The scientist blushed and sheepishly reached his hand out. “I didn’t know that anyone in the military found botany interesting.”
Black Spider didn’t miss a beat as they shook hands. “Oh yes. I’ve always been interested in plants. I read your thesis, on the effects of um…”
The scientist beamed at the idea of a fan, and he quoted the paper’s title in response, “The Effects of RH-1 Growth Formula on Desert Star Cacti in Areas Affected by Nuclear Radiation. Yes, I was quite proud of that.”
“I found it enthralling, sir.”
“My goodness…I’ve never heard anyone describe my writing as enthralling.”
“And I liked your theory, too.”
“Well, it seems like common sense to me, but no one else seems to understand that we could cleanse the planet with science. The desert could teem again. The war doesn’t have to end everything. But they’re all just interested in what we can still get from it, rather than giving anything back.”
“Exactly. We could stand to benefit so much from your research.”
The man sighed, and Bax had to stifle his wonder at how Black Spider was pulling all of this out of his ass. “I know,” the researcher said, “I just wish the Senate took my work seriously. I could always use more funding. But what of it! I’ll show them.”
“It’s so good to finally meet you! I look forward to your next paper.”
Another blushing smile appeared, and the scientist nodded. “Well, thank you young man. It was good to meet you too. But I’m afraid I need to get inside and check on my research. Good night.”

Black Spider smiled and stepped aside to let the man go. He motioned for Bax to walk away for a moment, and they watched as Dr. Pennington let himself into the building. After he was gone, Bax looked at Black Spider skeptically, “What was that about?”
“Research,” he said. “We can get in now.”
Bax’s eyes widened. “How?” he asked incredulously.
“I was able to look him in the eye long enough to memorize a good copy of his retinal image. When I shook hands with him, I grazed my hands over his fingertips and mapped them as well. And I kept him going in conversation long enough to analyze his vocal pattern. Now we just wait a minute. Let the computer think he forgot something outside or something.”
Bax chuckled a little. Black Spider’s powers of observation, analysis, and tactical know-how amazed him.
“How are we doing with area soldiers?” Bax asked, looking around as he waited.
Black Spider closed his eyes and listened carefully. “We don’t have much time before we’re discovered. Come on.”

They moved to the terminal, and Black Spider focused a little. He cleared his throat, and began molding his vocal muscles, fingertips, and retina to match Dr. Pennington’s. He stepped forward, placed his hand on the print scanner, and placed his face near the eye scanner.
“Voice recognition,” came a female electronic voice. “Please state your name.”
Black Spider opened his mouth and calmly said, “Nigel Pennington.” The voice was not his own, but Dr. Pennington’s. It was unmistakable.

The door slid open and Black Spider smiled. “Success.”

[The Waffle King]

Within the walls of Claude's head...

At the window...

Stood the tall, steady figure of Zack. The real Zack. At least, as accurate a rendition as the mind of his brother could conceive, based completely on the memories of the real person. Until now, he had been hidden away in the subconscious, along with the real, complete Claude avatar, kept out of the Conscious along with all the nightmares of the past. Because one of those nightmares was his loss.

But now there he stood, amidst the fractured Claude facets, all of them lying on the floor, wounded and shaken. The walls themselves were scraped and scored and bleeding like living flesh, with holes exposing pure blackness outside. Instead of a pink rabbit, five black ones with red glowing eyes were now hopping about to eat up the pieces of wood which had been torn from the walls. They were fat and glossy, having recently been fed a lot.

Zack looked over his shoulder for a moment, giving an apologetic grin to someone behind him. "Heh, sorry for sayin' 'shut up' like that, I was under a lotta pressure."

Glancing back at him for a moment, the tattered and bloodied Dark Claude was still on his feet, but barely, leaning against the back wall in front of the door to the subconscious, which was hanging ajar. It was propped halfway closed by a brown misshapen, roughly-hewn something with the word "deny" on its side. He was doing his best to keep fighting the now roiling and screaming demons back. "Least of my problems," he answered, growling as he swung the white sword, slicing another demon in half. It usually took them a minute or two to regenerate... but with how many there were, he could never tell if he was fighting the same ones several times or not. "You just need to hurry up though. I can't keep this up much longer."

Zack, who was tethered to the dark innards of the closet by a black chain on his ankle, nodded grimly. "I know... I'm sorry. I gotta see what's comin' up next though; it might be even worse."

Dark Claude hew another dark beast open, but then had to move a small step backwards and check his footwork, glancing down at the form that was partially out of the door and lying on the floor. It was the true Claude avatar, from whom all the others had originated. He was barely recognizable past the myriad of wounds, old, healing, and new, covering his body. He was half-curled on his side, his eyes glassy and distant yet locked on Zack. From all points touching the wall and floor outside of the doorway, black decay was slowly snaking outward, like cracks in previously wet dirt rendered quickly and completely dry.

Dark Claude said quietly, "I'm sorry, this isn't personal," and pushed on the avatar's shoulder with his foot, moving him back within the boundary of the doorway. But as the more fit one continued to fight, the avatar mechanically returned to trying to crawl out again, spreading the decay more, inch by inch. Dark Claude tried to hold his foot on him to keep him at bay, but his boot crumbled apart and the flesh on his foot began to ooze dark blood. He winced and backed away a bit.

"Shit... Hurry," he growled.

Meanwhile, from the floor, the child form of Claude was looking between the man at the window, and the doll that he so often pantomimed when style was called for, when girls needed flirted with, or when words needed to pour out at random. He looked at Zack, then at the doll, then at Zack again.

"...Not the same..." he murmured, "...They're... different."

Zack sighed, closing his eyes in a pained moment. He knew he was making things worse by being out here... but he had no idea what was about to befall the being, and figured he could take it at least for one round to buy all the others time... At least, he hoped so.

[Shadow Phoenix]

Eve wandered through the desert, fully cloaked to avoid the dreaded desert sun. She was a lone black dot on the seemingly endless rolling dunes, scorched by heat and tortured by ripping winds. She wandered away from Nibelheim, but was not going towards the new desert headquarters of the Order. She had a different destination this time…

Eve retrieved a canteen from under her cloak and gingerly took a sip to ease her dust-dry throat and cracked lips. In her mind she mulled over her recent visit to Nibelheim—in particular her meeting with Bax in the graveyard. Eve had gone to look for Adam in the hopes that he had survived the battle. She had gone looking…for what? Friendship? Understanding? A new beginning? Romantic validation? She hasn’t entirely sure…

Eve held a hand to her face and felt a small crease—a line—the start of a wrinkle. She was nearing 30 rapidly. Her mother had told her when she was young that if she didn’t settle down with a man by 30 that she probably wouldn’t stand a chance. And there was the wrinkle to prove it. She felt like she was starting to lose her edge…

Not that she hadn’t tried of course. She had been engaged to Adam a few years ago. After things fell apart there, she became attached to Ben. If he hadn’t died, then maybe things would have worked out there. At one point, Eve even wondered if maybe Rivel would be okay. But he was too much of a megalomaniac. He didn’t really care about anyone but himself, and about anything but his research. Being in the Magi, her options were fairly limited. But she felt this…need…

She hated that. She had always been strong and smart. She had never needed the attachment to anyone else. Romance got in the way of work. It was tricky. Why was she feeling this way? Like she was losing a part of herself, like control of her emotions was slipping away. This was totally unbecoming of a priestess of the Magi.

Would she even stay with the Magi? Perhaps if she defected and went elsewhere, she could start over again. Fuck this war, all this bullshit. She didn’t have to deal with it, did she?

Eve felt tears rolling down her cheeks and tasted the saltiness filling in the cracks in her lips. She could try to think like this, but she knew there was nowhere for her to go. The Order didn’t like losing its own. Eve knew too many secrets, and she was a liability. She was surprised that they hadn’t sent anyone after her yet to drag her back in. She had made the decisions that locked in her fate long ago. Her place was with the Order. She was a Magi. That was all there was to it anymore…as much as she wished she could change her stars, it felt impossible.

She was still looking for answers, though…looking for opportunities and chances. Something, just…more…

Eve wiped the tears from her face and steeled herself. She couldn’t show any more weakness. People might start to get the wrong idea about her…

Bax had mentioned Sephiroth X, too. He had revealed that the silver-haired warrior was working with Dark Crono. He was working with the man who had created him. It seemed too odd and uncharacteristic of Sephiroth. Eve hadn’t known him very well when she was first working on the Mako Project—the X Project—but he had never seemed like the type to make a pact with someone he considered the devil. He had always been a self-righteous bastard, focused and determined in his goals.

But this last time that Eve had seen Sephiroth X, he seemed…very different. As he appeared in the midst of the Magi’s in-squabbling to save Bax and the shape shifter, Eve had felt an overwhelming power from him that literally froze her where she lay in the sands. Terror gripped her as she looked into his eyes and saw darkness and powerlust. He enjoyed tearing them apart, and he had come inches away from killing Rivel. And yet even though she was scared stiff during the incursion, she was intrigued by this new side of Sephiroth X.

So the Warrior of Prosperity was her target. Perhaps he could give her answers to some questions she had. And maybe…a little bit more…

* * *

Bax and Black Spider walked into the research building and quickly located the elevator. Bax pushed the button to summon it and watched as the numbers counted backward from 104. He nervously looked over his shoulder through the windows and saw soldiers marching past.
“They will know we are here soon,” he surmised.
Black Spider shrugged, “Now it gets real hard. The cameras are recording us. Staying as we are, we might be able to buy a few more minutes. The moment we change, we’re gonna have to fight like hell the rest of the way.”
Bax figured that out for himself. “We probably will not be able to make it all the way up in the elevator. They will stop us.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
Bax smiled. “I am okay with that.”

After a moment the numbers finished their count to 1 and the doors slid open with a metallic whoosh. Bax and Black Spider stepped in with some slight trepidation. Bax pushed the button for the 47th floor and took a deep breath. “Here we go.”
The elevator lit up in blue and green flashes, and began ascending through the hollow glass and metal tube.
“How far do you think we will get up?”
“Twenty floors,” Black Spider estimated. “You?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Ooh, confident? Let’s see.”

Up and up they traveled, floor by floor. Bax’s breath accelerated, and Black Spider cracked his knuckles and rolled his neck around.
“Any minute now,” the shape shifter said.
And then it happened. The elevator shook, and the blue and green lights turned red as they stopped. Bax looked up at the floor number. “Twenty-three. I win.”
They were halfway. That was pretty good. Only twenty-four floors to go.

“Attention, Sergeant Major Flynn and Private Gibbs. You are in direct violation of an order to proceed to your superior. We are coming to take you into custody so that you can explain your actions. Stay there.”

Black Spider looked up at the camera that had allowed them to be seen and smiled. “They’re pretty good,” he said. “Well, this is it, Bax. You ready?”
The Phoeniyan wiggled his fingers and moved his illusion gun back to its sheath on his back. “I am as ready as I will ever be.”
Black Spider raised his hand to the camera and snapped. It exploded in a rush of flames, and he grunted as he began to shift his form. His clothes melted away to reveal coarse black fur, and two gnarled horns poked forth from his head. A tail burst out of his backside and wings grew in the cramped space of the tiny elevator. Bax looked at himself and recognized his own hands and clothes as the mirage blurred away. This was the real start of the danger. From here on out, they would have to fight their way to the information and then bust out of Zion.

Black Spider completed his transformation and kicked the door in front of them out. It crumpled and snapped as it crashed through the floor before them. Black Spider stepped out and spread his wings. “Ah, that feels good.”
Bax followed quickly and drew his swords. “We need to find the stairs.”
“Right.”
They started running through the halls and the scientists roaming about scampered away. But the infiltrators weren’t interested in destruction—this was purely a mission to gather information.

Inevitably, though, they would have to fight.

The two found the stairs and started running up. They got halfway to the next floor when a cacophony of whirring echoed down the walls. Black Spider looked up and saw large mechanical attack droids crawling down the steps. They had four legs and several mounted cannons. As they came into view, they started firing a seemingly endless barrage of bullets towards the invaders. Bax and Black Spider swung back down the steps and out of the way of the bullets.
“Research?” Bax asked.
“Something like that. We need to smash ‘em.”
Black Spider clapped his hands together and darkened spheres of destructive energy formed around his hands. He dodged back into the line of fire and started firing his own blasts towards the entourage of enemies. “Take this motherfuckers!” he screamed.

Meanwhile, Bax heard footsteps thundering from below. Soldiers were starting to come up. “Um…Black Spider?” Bax asked.
“A little busy!” the shape shifter shouted as he blew one of the bots to kingdom come.
“I am about to be!” he responded.
“Hold ‘em off.”
“I will do my best.”

Bax focused and held his swords in front of him. This reminded him of so many tight spots he’d been in before. Except this time, Bax couldn’t pull out the tricks of his younger days. He was going to have to rely on pure skill against hordes of highly trained soldiers.
“Good luck!” came a shout from above.
“You too,” Bax said as his face darkened. He grit his teeth in preparation for the onslaught.

[The Waffle King]

As Zack came to, the first thing he sensed was his aching limbs. His legs felt like had run a marathon, and his arms throbbed and tingled. The cold wall felt like it started to slide behind him, Zack's eyes snapped open as he realized what was happening. His now free arms scrabbled at the concrete to maintain balance as he teetered on his toes on a dish sized outcropping of reflective floor beneath him. He pressed himself up against the wall like a post, empty shackles dangling above him, an abyss of nothing around his feet. Zack scanned the room for a way to solid ground. The far side of the room had a full run of floor about the width of a sidewalk, but the gap between him and it were too far for his weary legs to jump.

He breathed deeply, trying to slow his heart down from the panic, keeping all of his weight back against the wall. He continued gauging his situation, but so far saw nothing to aid him in getting to less risky ground. His face was fairly neutral, but it was a frightening situation. Any misstep, or sneeze, or collapse of his legs could send him plunging into they abyss. "Oh man... if I die, Claude w--" he blinked, then lowered his head with a bitter chuckle and eyes closed. "Heh, great... how's that for irony... I'm not much help here..." Then his eyes opened slowly, now narrowed, stressed but again probing the surroundings. "...What the hell can I do now?"

Nothing but silence prevailed for what seemed like minutes, Zack trying to devise a way to the other side or prepare for what would probably happen. But his concentration broke as the heavy bolt of the cell door was unlatched. The door creaked open as four Zion soldiers marched in onto the stable piece of floor. They spaced themselves out evenly and stood at attention, facing the boy. Zack was surprised to see something human for once in this place. "H-Hey! Did you guys assault Midgar or something? You gotta get me do--" He was immediately cut off as they picked up their rifles from their sides and readied them, all four barrels pointing straight for his head.

His eyes widened and his heart stopped, then pounded away at triple-time. He began to shake. "Oh what the hell... I didn't do anything! Don't!" Then his eyes changed focus once more, and he snarled, "I won't let you!", and he leaped as hard as he could toward the soldiers, a desperate battle-cry roaring from his throat. Sadly, Zack's jump didn't match the power of his voice. He flew nearly half way over the darkness before he started to descend. The sound of fear crept into his cry as he fell towards the pit in what seemed like slow motion. Then something he wasn't prepared for: he slammed into the hard, slippery surface of the "hole". An inch of perfectly still water covered what felt like solid glass under him. There was no friction as he fell straight onto his back. The fall knocked him dizzy. All he could do was lift his head up to see the soldiers squeezing the triggers, and then...

A loud gunshot next to him blasted him awake. The cell gone in the blink of an eye. He lay on a warm sandy ground, around him the walls of a green canvas tent. He could hear occasional distant gunfire outside, but nothing close enough to be threatening. The inside of the tent was dim. What little light from the dusk sun seeping in through the fabric not aiding much the single lantern on a table to his left. He could smell fresh gunpowder residue and looked around the tent. Typical military gear and bunks, but a very atypical corpse. Next to the table used to sat a man in dusty, worn clothes, a Rolling Thunder insignia stitched onto the arm. A rifle between his legs, head blown apart, thumb still on its trigger. The lamp light reflecting off a pair of rectangular glasses and an old-looking book.

The boy sat in shock, his mind trying to sort out what had happened, what didn't happen, and what he was seeing now. It was getting difficult to know past from present. And it was getting difficult to find someone who could take helm in his mind. Finally, given the military situation, he settled on the one with the eyes for it, and he gravely approached the corpse, though still keeping a distance.

"...Why? Why would you give up like this? Why not die on the battlefield instead?" Despite his hard expression, his voice quavered a bit, and he sighed hard. Then he started for the exit to get a superior officer and tell them what had happened. But then he paused. Wait... One, why does this feel natural? And two... I can't be back, can I? Aren't I still in Valtiel's court? He turned around and stood at ready, expecting the corpse to suddenly be more than what it appeared.

The body continued to sit motionless, slowly bleeding out. Zack scanned around it for anything unnatural lying in wait. Nothing odd on the ground or on the walls, but as his eyes passed over the table something felt strange. He locked his gaze on the book, and at that moment the knife in his hand felt cold and heavy, but bristled beneath the surface, almost like a subtle vibration. Zack looked at the knife, then at the book. He then approached the desk, and picked up the book with his other hand, looking over it. He turned it around in the light, looking for a clue. The light from the lantern caught the cover just right. An embossed emblem shined back at him, an instantly recognizable symbol, the one he had seen Valtiel use before. Zack grew angry simply finding this marker here. His other arm was tugged downward as the knife gave off one strong pulse in his hand. He looked down and saw not a clean knife, but the huge blade his enemy wields clutched in his fingers.

Gasping, eyes wide, he threw down both the book at the Great Knife in disgust and backed away from them, looking around apprehensively. Then he scrambled to get outside, turning and running but not quite coordinated, half-stumbling forward to keep from falling just as much as running. He flew through the tent flaps and into the rest of the camp. Stumbling, he slowed down as he entered a large open space at the center. The camp was empty, not a single person anywhere to be seen. Zack slowly spun around, searching the camp for anything living.

As he turned, he tripped on something sharp. He looked down and picked a sizable piece of broken mirror out of the sand. The rest of the ground in the open space was littered with them. Without warning, an old air raid siren from somewhere within the camp screamed to life. Zack dropped the shard and looked around; something was definitely happening.

The ground started to shake with the force of a thousand footsteps, a trampling roar closing in from all round him. And then they came in force. To his right, hundreds of faceless figures dressed in Zion military uniforms flooded through the tents. At the same time, hundreds more figures in all sorts of different gear streamed in from the right, all wearing the Rolling Thunder insignia on them. The flowed through the camp toward each-other, suddenly halting at the edge of the clearing Zack stood in. Their weapons readied, they opened fire on each-other with a roar. He hit the dirt, bullets whizzing by overhead, but none seemingly aimed at him specifically. He looked around, trying to calm his heart. He was completely surrounded, both sides taking heavy casualties, but having what seemed like an endless supply of replacements pushing forward from the rear.

From the ground, he took in the situation. Rolling Thunder... My comrades... I want to fight with them. But... this isn't real. I have to get out of here.
He rolled to his feet and began to duck, weave, and zig-zag diagonally into the Zion troops. Better to be at punching-range than shooting when he had no firearms, and better to use them as shields against Rolling Thunder's bullets. Once among them, the bullet hail was halved. He shoved and leaped and rolled between soldier after soldier. Any that did not easily get out of his way, he kicked or punched aside to clear a path, aiming to get out of this sudden battle.

Zack shoved through the soldiers, sending them to the ground. As he climbed over the fallen he saw something else had the same idea. Another path was being formed as soldiers fell, but heading toward the battle for some reason. It blazed past Zack with lighting speed, followed by a light sprinkling of blood. A monstrous figure burst through the Zion front lines and immediately went to work on the RT forces with a mammoth sword. Nearly 7 feet tall, it was clad in dingy Zion uniform. Almost off of it's skin was missing, if it had any to begin with, exposing solid masses of muscle and ligament. It's facial tissues were stretched back into a gaunt skull-like visage. Red embers hung in the dark pits where eyes should be, all this framed with black, oily, spiky hair.

It continued tearing through both sides as they all focused their attention on the berserker. It took the bullets like they weren't even there as it turned, swinging at the air. The thing caught a glimpse of Zack pushing through the crowd. Bearing its teeth, it roared out its own battle cry and took off toward him. Gasping, Zack tried to continue running, but it was catching up too fast and he knew it. He also knew that it seemed unaffected by bullets, but he still grabbed a gun from the nearest Zion soldier and haphazardly sprayed at the beast on full-auto. Muscle memory dictated that this was not familiar, yet not the only time he'd ever fired a gun either.
It raised an arm to shield it's face from the bullets, buying Zack precious moments to react.

Zack looked around quickly but discerningly, knowing that many Senate soldiers also used swords, and he saw one nearby with a blade still sheathed on his back. He rushed toward him from behind and drew the broadsword. It was light and small compared to a Buster. It would be able to slice or stab, but probably would not tolerate too many impacts with such a large blade. Thus Zack instinctively dove and rolled off to the side, just as he heard the huge enemy's blade cut through the air toward him.

The huge blade sank into the sand from the impact. It went to raise its hand for another strike, but just tugged at the well grounded sword. It snarled, released the handle, and cracked its knuckles. Its booming voice permeated the chaos like thunder. "Puny thing, I'll crush you myself!"

Zack took a light defensive stance, geared more for dodging than for attacking. He knew running from this thing would only waste his energy, yet he did not want to rush in rashly without gauging a few of this thing's moves. And meanwhile, he felt the urge to know more about the situation. "Why are you fighting?" he asked, putting his weight on his forward leg, ready to use it to spring back.

The berserker raised its boot and stomped down at Zack, who was prepared and skillfully dodged out of the way. It peered through the dust as the shock toppled soldiers around it. "My orders are to kill, slaughter, destroy... It's my birthright...and it's what I'm going to do to you..."

Landing lightly in a kneel, Zack glared up at the being with surprise. "Is that all? Orders? Birthright? That's your excuse? Have you tried thinking for yourself?"

"Duty doesn't need thinking! I have my orders and I will complete the mission!" The berserker lifted the corpses of the fallen easily and began hurling them at the boy, making for heavy projectiles as they slammed into the standing soldiers behind him.

The Strife teen rolled away from one throw, ducked under another, and sidestepped a third while rushing toward the enemy. "Orders from who? Why would they want everyone dead?" He rolled to avoid one more thrown body, then leaped from his knees upward with a diagonal slash at the berserker's body.

The blade sliced into its chest, leaving a deep gash. It reared back in pain and howled. But recovered as Zack flew past its face. It reached up and grabbed his ankle, pulling him back down to the earth. It slammed Zack onto the ground and pinned him by the throat. Zack cried out upon impact. The creature raised a massive fist behind it. "I...I cannot disobey the commander..."

Zack gritted his teeth and quickly raised his lower half, wrapping his legs around the being's arm and extending his body to push him partially away. This dragged his head against the ground, but the grip was loosened from his throat enough to slide away from the fist. It impacted close enough to pull some of his hair out. With the berserker's momentum now off-balance from the punch's power and its arm still captured, Zack then braced his hands on the ground and, with all his strength, flipped the giant over himself and into the ground, screaming, "WHY NOT DO WHAT YOU WANT?!"

It flattened out onto its back, stunned from the impact. The constant barrage of bullets were taking its toll on it as they were continually pumped into it. The berserker rolled over and wearily lifted itself up on all fours. "I just.....I just want to rest..."

Zack rolled onto his feet, noticed the creature's condition, and appeared to begin running past it. But on the way, his hand grabbed its upper arm and pulled. "Then come on, let's get outta here."

The beast hefted himself up and sat down on the ground, shaking loose Zack's grip. He looked over at him with dimming embers. "No, no more. This way I won't have to wake up to this again.." It looked away and hung it's head low as he absorbed more and more gunfire, eyes dimming with each second.

Zack shook his head, and quickly swung his sword to deflect several bullets. "It's not the only way! You can change without just being dead!" He tugged again as he tried to defend the being he had so recently been battling.

Its voice was much quieter, almost a whisper. "No.......this....is best..." It's shoulders slumped down as the last of the light left its eyes. It released one last breath as crumbled into a gray dust. The soldiers on both sides slowly ceased fire, and just looked on at the scene. After a moment of quiet, they too crumbled away into the wind, leaving Zack by himself yet again.

Zack closed his eyes and sunk to his knees, still breathing hard, head lowered. It was difficult to place whether relief or sorrow was winning out inside him. "...When will this end...? How much more of this...? Why does it always have to...?" He covered his eyes, too drained to weep, too tense to relax, and too expectant of more to believe it was over.

The sound of resonating glass echoed all around him, and he felt a cool shadow over him. He looked up just as the last pieces of mirror lifted themselves out of the sand. Floating in the air about 10 yards in front of him was a massive, concave mirror, blocking out the evening sun. It magnified Zack's own weary image to larger than life proportions. But one piece of his reflection was still missing. It looked as if his head was made of porcelain, and the face had been chipped out. Zack touched his face to make sure that the texture did not mimic that of the reflection. Then he thought about how the image of himself had been progressing through this ordeal. "...Almost... But... is that good or bad?" He sighed resolutely, figuring he would find out soon enough.

Prepared, his mind faded out as he knelt in its eclipse.

[Shadow Phoenix]

Bax sliced through the barrel of a gun and delivered a swift kick to the chest of the surprised soldier. He tripped over the metallic limb of a spider-drone and dominoed into the soldiers behind him, dragging them all flailing down the steps as their bullets sprayed all over. Bax ducked down behind the metal shield and looked up at the bullet riddled wall at the floor number. 40. They had fought hard up and didn’t have too much further to go. He continued to swivel his head around and looked up at Black Spider’s head haloed by a corona of fiery explosions.
“Tell me that we are ready to move again,” Bax shouted over the noise.
“Just now. Let’s go,” came the barked response.

The two leapt through flames and over twisted metal slag, swinging up the stairs as quickly as they could before facing the next barrage. They had been at this stop and go game of carnage for about an hour now, and had gained ground on 17 floors. Now they only had seven to go. Bax was surprised they hadn’t taken more damage. As he ran, he gingerly felt the bullet hole in his hip. It stung like hell, but he had trained and meditated for years to suppress pain. He had managed to remove the bullet thanks to some quick thinking by Black Spider (an electromagnet), and resolved to cauterize the wound better when he had time. Bax was sure that the shape shifter had taken even more damage. This was madness.

Around the 43rd floor, Black Spider swung around the steps and was quickly blown into the wall behind him. The wall gave way under the impact and the cracks extended out to the edge. Bax skidded to a halt and dropped to the floor, peering up and around the corner. At the top of the 44th floor were a few soldiers manning a massive energy cannon that had just blasted Black Spider back. Behind them were a bunch of the spider drones, with their guns aimed at Black Spider’s body and prepared to fire.

The shape shifter twitched in the small crater, looked up, and snarled. “Fuck no!” he screamed. He lifted himself up and got a look of pissed off determination in his eyes. The drones began their hailstorm of bullets and Bax winced and wondered if his friend had lost it. He couldn’t do this without him!

But the bullets stopped inches from Black Spider. Some exploded there, and others glanced off and careened off somewhere behind him. It was some kind of shield, and nothing was getting through. Black Spider took a few steps forward, then smiled and spread his wings. With a quick flap, he surged forward with his claws extended and ripped the cannon in half in a swift motion. He smashed the soldiers brutally into the walls on either side and then tossed the cannon halves into the spider drones. Then he disappeared from view as he flew onto the floor to do his business and clean up the mess.

Bax sensed soldiers approaching from below and he turned to see a soldier at the bottom of the 43rd floor where Bax had just left. Bax’s eyes widened and he flipped up to an upright position as the soldier opened fire. Bax didn’t have time to dodge, so he put his bare hand out instinctively and brushed it to the side. The bullet changed course and breezed past him, just clipping his clothes. A thought occurred to him right then—he didn’t know he could do that. But this was no time to marvel at his undiscovered skills.

The soldier fired another round and Bax swung his Valermos forward and deflected it. He swung the sword forward in an arc and the runes glowed as he concentrated on releasing its power. In a flash, a stream of fire shot out from the blade and consumed the bullets as they rose. The flame continued on and knocked the soldiers back. Even though this was war, Bax was trying not to kill the soldiers—just repel them. That was his nature, but it was hard as hell to do if we wanted to keep living. Black Spider didn’t have the same sensitivities—it was a major difference between the two of them. To each his own…

Bax stabbed the Valermos down into the steps before him, then drew the Diroxauralis out and stabbed it down next to the Valermos. He grasped the handles of both, closed his eyes and concentrated on both of them. Even though it would mean they would probably have to find another way out, knocking down these stairs would also cut off the enemy advance. Just as another wave of soldiers appeared below Bax, he opened his eyes and thrust the swords down. A wall of flames roared up and then cascaded down the steps. The soldiers scrambled away down the steps, but the wall of flame turned and followed them down the rest of the flight before dying away. In its wake, the stairs cracked and then crumbled away.

Satisfied, but feeling spent by that last attack, Bax staggered up and sheathed the swords. He walked up the steps and caught a glimpse of Black Spider flying around. He slammed a ball of dark energy into a drone, causing it to explode. He flapped his wings and landed. He looked around him, cracked his neck, and then noticed Bax.
“You done?” he called out.
Bax nodded. “I think so.”
“Then let’s stop waiting around.”
Bax took a deep breath and followed Black Spider up.

Surprisingly, they didn’t run into anyone else until they got to the 47th floor. Things were…surprisingly quiet, actually. It was too quiet, really. Bax and Black Spider walked around for a few minutes, expecting some sort of trap. As Black Spider saw cameras, he destroyed them. Bax checked every room and office they passed, looking for one that might contain maps. Then right before him was a sign that read:

RESTRICTED! Materia Maps, 4718

Why wasn’t there anyone else around here?
“This looks like the place,” Black Spider said.
Bax nodded and approached the door. There was a keypad on it, and he looked at quizzically. “What do I do?”
“You don’t break into places very often, do you?”
Bax shook his head. “I am a king, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. Look. They know we’re here already. No need to be stealthy anymore. Get out of the way.”
Bax stood aside and the shape shifter punched his hand through the door and ripped it off its hinges. He tossed it aside and looked at Bax.
“You’ve got a good memory, right?” he asked.
Bax nodded, “So I have been told.”
Black Spider started walking away. “Then find the maps and memorize what you need. I’m gonna try and throw them off our trail, make them guess as to what we were looking for. So you can’t take the maps.”
Bax wouldn’t have thought of that. He would have just grabbed the maps and left with them. But as he thought about it, it would not take long for the Senate to figure out what they had come for and where they had gone. The less he had to deal with them, the better.
“Okay. I will try to be quick,” Bax said.
Black Spider punched his fist through another door and went in to mess the room up and make it look like he was looking for something in it.

Bax walked in to the map room, flicked the light on, and started searching. There was a table in the center of the room that had a lit-up display of the surface of Earth. There was also a computer at the far end of the room, but he was wary of using technology that might foil their efforts. Instead, he went around to the filing cabinets around the room. He was surprised at the sheer number of different types of raw materia. And if they had to have a different cabinet for each one, then there must be lots of different pockets.

Bax came to the F cabinet and looked down for Fire. Sure enough, he found it and pulled the cabinet out. He grabbed the maps and took them to the table in the center of the room. He took the largest of the maps in his collection and stretched it out on the table. Right away, he saw three red circles on the map. One was on the far edge of the Beta Continent, one was in the middle of the Alpha Continent in the desert, and one was on an island just off the coast of the Alpha Continent, called Franca. The easiest would be the one on the Alpha Continent.

Bax put the next document down on the table. It was an enlarged map of the area on the Alpha Continent, which here appeared to be around a city. A few notes were scribbled down here. “City of Balamb. Location of Raw Fire Materia Source One. Destroyed during War. Materia Source lost. Look for new source.”

Damn. What about the one on Beta? Bax spread that map down, and looked at the notes scribbled there. “Cavern of the Djinn. Home to a malevolent demon. Locked up, guarded by soldiers of Beta. Not recommended. Look for new source.”

No good there either. Last chance—the island of Franca. Bax lay that map out, and saw a handful of notes scribbled here, too. Not looking very promising. “Mt. Beli. Inactive volcano. Warning: Hand of Belenus activity suspected. Approach with caution.”

Bax looked at those words and smiled. This one didn’t come with a “look for new source” marker, which meant that it was probably all right. He hadn’t heard anything about the Hand of Belenus, so he assumed that they probably wouldn’t pose too much of a problem. Besides, if Bax was going to feel comfortable anywhere it would be near fire. So now he just had to figure out how they were going to get to the island. He still couldn’t summon Keldira, and it would be unwise to make Black Spider carry him all that way. They needed some kind of ship. Maybe there was something they could take from the research building (if they hadn’t destroyed it yet). After all, Jack had gotten the Earth Breaker from a Zion shipment. If they had something like that, then surely they had a seaworthy ship or something that could fly.

Bax memorized the map to the best of his ability and tried to make sure he had the right island in his head. He was going to Franca—not Nihon, not Ahab, or any of the others. He made a mental note, then wrapped the maps back up and put them where they belonged, then jogged out of the room.
“I have what we need, Black Spider. It is on an island.”
“Well that’ll be fun,” the shape shifter shouted. He walked around a corner and looked around. “So we need to get to the island, huh? Keldira?”
“I am unable to contact her.”
“Shit.” The shape shifter thought for a moment. “Well, first things first. Let’s get out of Zion.”
“I was thinking that we might look for something in this building.”
“We’ve got no time, Bax. It makes no sense that we haven’t run into anyone on this floor. They’re about to bust us. We gotta get out now.”
Bax nodded. He was probably right. They would find some way to get to Franca once they got out.

Black Spider motioned towards a window. “There’s our exit.”
“Are we going to jump?”
“That’s the plan.”
Bax sighed. “You can get us out? I thought you said you were unsure.”
Black Spider’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Right…um…”
“You don’t have a plan?!” Bax shouted.
“Ease up, I’m thinking.”

As the two stood there in the empty hallway with destroyed doors all around them, they noticed a distinct whirring noise getting closer and closer. They looked up at the window before them and their eyes widened as a helicopter slammed into and through the glass. The building shook and shattered glass rocketed lethally towards them. The whirring blades of the helicopter sliced through the walls until they became lodged into the metal girders. Both Bax and Black Spider were blown back by the initial impact, but quickly dodged behind other offices to avoid the raining shards.

Slowly, the glass settled down and the only remaining sound was a few fires that had been kindled around the floor. Bax and Black Spider looked at each other from across the hall, wondering what the hell had just happened. And then they heard footsteps crunching over glass. They had company. The Senator? The Apprentice? Who would they have sent in such a destructive way? Bax pulled his swords out and looked at Black Spider again. The shape shifter held up three fingers, and started counting down…

[The Waffle King]

Zack slowly came to, back in the cell. By now he knew what to expect and took in his surroundings. He sat against the wall he used to be shackled to, feet sprawled out on the now complete mirrored floor. He felt a warm breeze rolling in through the open door. No sounds of life, just the wind and a quiet squeak of the door on its hinges. He looked at the open door with a myriad of tumultuous emotions roiling through him. What was this now? Freedom? The gateway to yet another horror or sadness? A passageway to death? He felt nauseous at the overwhelming possibilities, his wrought body shaking from the exhaustion of his mind and spirit. But what else was he to do? Remain where he was, where he may be confined forever? If it stayed quiet like this, that would not be too bad, perhaps... But nothing was predictable here, nothing stable.

"I've come this far... right?" he murmured, his voice shaking more than he meant it to, "Heh... if it can be called progress... Well, there's the mirror... Do I want it complete though? I mean what do I get, a billion gil?" He tried to laugh, but it cracked in his throat.

Slowly, though, he forced himself to his feet. He stared at the door. Stared at it, eyes haunted and exhausted, wavering weakly between several nuances, before they finally dimmed with tired determination, and he stepped toward it... and past the doorway. He found himself in a narrow concrete hallway; his cell door had been at the end. A wall to his left, the corridor extending out toward his right. There were no other doors or windows except for a single set of double doors at the far end. A bright white light seeped in through cracks between the doors, as well as the warm air. Looking at it made Zack feel lighter, as if the breeze was washing away his aches and exhaustion. He took a step closer, and the comforting feelings increased, his bruises visibly fading away.

Could this be it? Could this be the end of the ordeal? Even as part of his mind argued this could not be the case, to remain cautious, it was difficult to argue with his heightened spirit and the lifting pain. He increased his pace, until he was running lightly, eyes now wide and bright, reaching out with his hands and using his momentum to push the doors open.

He burst into the light, momentarily blinded. But he felt his feet sink into warm sand, he could feel the sun in the sky and wind moving past him. His eyes adjusted to the environment: he was in a desert. The frame of the doors behind him jutting out of the sand, nothing back behind it but more desert. It was like a sea, there were no landmarks to get a bearing, nor was it blistering. Just warm sun, sand, and a breeze. He could see a faint glint at the top of the dune ahead of him, another mirror perhaps? With his new energy, but still maintaining an air of caution, he climbed the sand hill toward the sparkle. Sand sliding under his feet and hands, it took longer than expected. He reached the top on his hands and knees and looked up.

In front of him was the central blade of Fenrir poking up out of the ground. He used it to hoist himself to his feet. Ahead of him lay more glints of light, the closer ones recognizable as other parts of his sword. All lined up over the dunes for what looked like a mile, a trail made of blades.

He glanced around tentatively, then allowed himself a small smirk, and with the sword in hand he started running for the next blade. The sensation of moving freely, running headlong, with the clear goal of re-assembling his weapon, made him feel quite good. He embraced this relief enough to breathlessly giggle a few times, reaching the second blade, pulling it from the ground, and clicking it back into place against the core blade. Then he continued onward, his spirits lifting with each segment he collected.

He was practically hopping to the last piece of Fenrir as he quickly reassembled it, his sword whole again, and so was his spirit. Ahead of him was one more point of light, he knew what it was even before he could make out its shape. It was Fjalar, waiting patiently for him in the sand. His emotions were flying high as he got closer. But just as quickly began to sink as he noticed that his old weapon wasn't alone. A shriveled arm poked out from behind the wide blade. Zack's smile faded and his step slowed as he approached it more cautiously. He circled around to the side of the sword, keeping his distance, knowing that his captor had one last card to play.

Leaning against the blade was a dried out corpse. Shriveling, but well preserved by the sand and heat. It wore an old Zion military uniform, the Zion logo crossed out with large scratches. Longer, but still somewhat spiky black hair hung off its slumping head.

The teen felt his heart jolt to a momentary stop. His knees began to feel weak, and he began to feel sick. "...W...What's the big deal, eh, me?" he wondered with a slowly weakening tone, trying to brush it off. "I've... I've seen dead people plenty... Did I?... Yeah, I think..."

He started to reach toward the hilt, but his hand was shaking hard. He looked at it, then back at the corpse. He swallowed hard, his heart beginning to beat harder and faster, his eyes growing more and more upset. "...Why... Why's this... so...?" He took a few stumbling steps away, eyes locked on the corpse. Then he squeezed them shut, shook his head hard, and turned away, hands covering his face with his fingers spread out.

His voice changed for a moment, like a shocked child. "It looks like... it feels like... that guy who was in here." Then his voice lowered in tone, teeth gritted. "No, no, don't think about it. It's nothing, just grab Fjalar."

He spun again and his arm swung out toward it... but hesitated again, now clenching his hand into a quivering fist. A few quiet patters sounded. Tears were falling from the boy's narrowed eyes onto the sand below.

"Why...? Why am I...?"
He shook his head hard, and forced his hand to close on the hilt. With the other, he tried to carefully dislodge the mummified hand. The dried fingers crunched and loosened their grip on the blade. Zack carefully began to pull the sword from the sand, his breath catching every inch, like disarming an explosive. Slowly, the tip of the blade neared the surface. Just as the point lost contact with the last grain of sand, it shot back into the ground, the hand clamped back onto the handle, its other latched onto Zack's arm. The corpse rose, limbs groaning from disuse, using the sword as a crutch. It looked up at him, purple embers burning inside of its empty sockets. It's mouth stretched open, coughing and gaging as nothing but dust was expelled from its lungs. Its mouth moved, trying to form words. "G...guh......." But nothing expect guttural spurts were audible.

Its eyes were opened as wide as Zack's own, both with the same look of shock etched on their faces.

The blond's own mouth hung open, shaking like the rest of him. His pulse felt like it would tear him apart from the inside-out. What he was seeing was clutching his feelings in a way that could not be argued. It wasn't the shock of a moving corpse. It wasn't a cold hard fact that could be argued as another of Valtiel's illusions. The core of what was happening, was clutching his very soul, and there was no defense against it but what remained in his mind, and that was crumbling away.

His mouth slowly formed sounds, triggered by reflex, no more stoppable or logical or illogical than a doctor's tap-kick test. "Z...Za...ck...?"

His hand slowly, falteringly moved to the mobile corpse's shoulder. He tried to stabilize his grip on the bony, brittle joint, while at the same time fighting the urge to completely embrace this rotted form in spite of what it was. "Y...You can k-keep Fjalar! I won't take it! Just... just don't..." He was trying not to sob too hard so he could keep his eyes on the form, but it was growing difficult to control.

It fell to its knees, pushing the blade out of the sand, the sword falling over with a metallic thump. Still coughing up dust, it tugged at the blond's shirt. "Ghu......vbuh...............nuuuuuh...." One of it's hands curled into a fist as it gurgled in an impatient anger. Slamming its fist into its own chest, but spewed out foul smelling dust onto the boy's feet. It sat there wheezing for a moment. Then, it looked up, its eyes squeezing shut, it looked sad.
"Ghi....give..it b..back......my n..nnnnaaaaaaaame....give it...back......"

The blond's madly thrashing heart managed to grind to a halt for a moment once more, with painful suddenness. He was frozen for what felt like an eternity, completely still, mouth agape, the only motion being the wind moving his hair and his tears still sliding down.

"...B...but... It... was left out h-here... I... wanted it to... wanted it to..." He was wrenched with a hard sob and with his eyes forced shut, he burst forth, "I wanted 'Zack' to make it to Midgar! *sob* And I could still walk..." His forehead collapsed forward against the corpse's chest, crying hard.

The corpse's breathing slowed, becoming more clear and resolute. A pair of warm, living arms wrapped around the boy, holding his head to its chest, a smile across its face. "Hey....thanks. You did what I couldn't, kid. I guess I won't be needing it anymore, eh? So...its yours if you want it." The once corpse crumbled and collapsed into a dense pile of dust in his arms, leaving him leaning over Fjalar. His own, whole reflection looking back at him in the worn blade.

Zack?... Claude?... The teen was left staring at his reflection, filled with too many emotions to process. Everything was so terrible and so perfect and so wrong and so confusing. He slowly shook his head, tears still falling hard, but face blank and distant as he tried to register everything, his mouth allowing the excess thoughts to flow. "...But... that's not fair to you... It's... But... I didn't need it... I needed... you."

He curled down, leaning his forehead down, now against Fjalar's blade, arms still clutching dusty remnants of the apparition to his chest.

He spent a long time on the ground, listening to the howl of the wind. But something else leaked in from behind him. The sound of boots on a wooden floor, uneven in their gait. He opened his eyes, seeing his own reflection yet again, then looked up. Yet another reflection of himself. Around him were the dingy halls of an apartment building, he turned toward the steps, his vision blurred. A long red coat approached him. "Zack! Whatcha doing on the ground? We need to leave, right now." Dante grabbed Zack and his sword, dragging them back down the hall, away from the mirror.

The boy Dante had called "Zack" made no effort to stand, still clinging onto Fjalar, eyes forlorn yet distant and glassy, quietly crying without blinking.

Dante kicked through the rubble to the passenger side of the APC, throwing Zack and his sword into the seat. Stumbling as quickly as he could, he climbed into the driver's seat, looking back into the cargo area. A family of three huddled in the seats.

He slammed the truck into reverse, freeing them from the side of the building, pulled a quick 180, and floored it for the edge of Midgar. Fresh blood dripping off the seat and onto the floor. He glanced over at Zack, gritting his teeth. "Dammit, kid, wake up already! Now's not the time to be sleepin' on the job!"

Slowly, the surroundings were registering in the boy's perceptions. It appeared he was free from Valtiel's domain... at least, the other one. It could have been another trick, of course... but this all seemed like background in his fogged mind.

[Shadow Phoenix]

OoC: Brought to you through the joint efforts of Zacloud and Shadow Phoenix. And now Zacloud is going to go huddle in a corner with a blanket after dealing with...him...*pats*

---

Silhouetted darkly against the flames behind him, the six-foot two-inch soldier strode forward with long yet slow steps and a menacing smirk on his angular face. His black hair was tied back in a short pony-tail, and his gold eyes sparked like live wires. He was clad in standard Zion soldier uniform, sans shoulder-pads and with an added bullet-proof vest. He wore a pair of metallic arm-guards which seemed unusually thick and contained possible moving parts, and he fairly bristled with combat knives. He wore two different pistols at his hips, had a machine gun strapped to his shoulder, and two wicked split-bladed short-swords in his hands.

He spoke out in a confident tone, which seemed to carry malevolence with zero effort. "What a boring night, in a boring week. I haven't heard a good scream in four days." He flipped the blade in his left hand backwards, sheathed it at his chest, and pulled a round metal object from his vest.
"About fucking time I got one," he continued, bringing the object to his mouth and pulling out the pin with his teeth. "How long's the fuse on this, I wonder?" he idly said past the pin, as he threw the grenade to where Bax and Black Spider were hiding. It rolled to a stop nearby.

Black Spider's countdown ended just as the grenade rolled between them, and his eyes widened. Judging by the square grooves, it was a shrapnel grenade. He waved his hands frantically at Bax and scampered quickly around the other way, motioning for Bax to do the same. Bax warily eyed the grenade and followed suit, dodging around to avoid the blast. He didn't recognize the voice, but he certainly didn't like the tone of his voice. It was sadistic and malicious...

A second passed. Then another. Then yet another. There was still no explosion. But there was no relief. The grenade lay there, loaded and dangerous, yet silent and, for the moment, harmless. How long would it remain thus, however?

The soldier spit out the pin, which pinged against the floor, and he laughed. A painfully warm laugh, searing in its situational joy. "What now?" he asked, stopping and standing with his arms crossed, at a distance that may or may not be out of the explosion's range. "What... now...?"

Black Spider never heard the expected explosion, and he was sure Bax would start to freak out soon. "Wait where you are, Bax. I'll take care of the grenade."
Bax did as he was told, but slowly inched towards the other edge so that he could catch a glimpse of their attacker. He looked and saw the tall, heavily armed man. No, he certainly didn't recognize him. But he looked dangerous enough. Before he was seen, Bax withdrew his head and waited for further instructions.

Black Spider took a deep breath and began to transform into an Arysian. The Arysians were a race that migrated to Auralis about 800 years ago after their planet succumbed to a nuclear winter. They had a total absence of melanin and were thus albinos, and mostly lived in the mountains and caverns below the surface of the planet. Black Spider's wings disappeared into his back and his black and purple fur was replaced with the pale skin and a crown of short blue hair. Black Spider chose this form because of one ability that was amplified in this race due to a glandular evolution in their brains. The Arysians could create and control semi-sentient golems from any material.

As he completed the transformation, Black Spider looked around and saw the room through the Arysian's off-setting but very helpful thermal imaging vision. He sensed the location of the grenade and clapped his hand onto the ground. The gnarled blue carpet, rough gray concrete, shattered glass, vinyl pipes, and steel girders began to twist and raise, hewing together in a monstrosity that rose up and developed a head, a torso, arms, and legs. It was said that the Arysian put a part of their soul into their golems, and could feel their pain. It was a risk that the shape shifter was willing to take--and one he had experienced many times in the past. As the golem formed fully, Black Spider began to see through his second sight. The golem stretched up nearly to the ceiling—a good 10 or 11 feet. He looked down at the Zion soldier, and then down at the grenade. In a blocky movement, the golem reached down and grasped the grenade in its massive hand. It completely closed its hand around it, then crouched down and looked like it was ready to charge at the soldier.

Black Spider walked behind the golem and called out to Bax. "Out here, Bax."
Bax carefully stood up and walked around the pillar. His eyes widened as he saw an Arysian and its golem. He never expected to see this here, but it had become a familiar sight on Auralis. "Who are you?" Bax asked as he leveled his swords towards the Zion soldier.

The soldier, rather than being shocked at what was unfolding before him, simply smirked even wider, eyes narrowing into thin slits. "A good question; you'll hear my name plenty in the near future if you live... which is what I hope for." His tone made that sound like a negative thing... And he began power-walking toward the golem, grenade and all, drawing his second blade once more. "I am Colonel Jadus Krieg."

Jadus...where had Bax heard that name before? It wasn't completely unfamiliar, but...it felt like a passing reference. Bax didn't know this man, but he had heard his name. The sole possibility was the only other time he had been in Zion--months ago during his interrogation. Bax suppressed this thought for now and noticed that his adversary was also comfortable with a dual-blade style. That would make things interesting.
"Well, Colonel. I am sorry to disappoint you, but we were not planning on sticking around. We must be leaving."
Black Spider's golem curled its open fist into a vicious palm and poised it directly over Jadus. It was tempting to crush the man here and now, but part of him thought that might be a bad idea.

Without skipping a beat, Jadus flicked his thumbs over the hilts of his blades, and the Phoeniyan could barely hear a nauseatingly low-pitched whirring, quickly followed by a sudden grating crackle, as Jadus swung both blades at different angles and severed both of the golem's hands at the wrists with synchronized upward sweeps. With his next step, he tucked and rolled between the golem's legs, landing in a crouch behind it, blades spread to his sides. The tip of one was still three feet from the nearest pillar, but the structure popped and formed cracks in line with the blade's angle before the whirring stopped.
"Not yet," he purred venomously.

Bax recoiled in surprise. His blades were holy, blessed, but even he wasn't sure how they would hold up against vibrating weapons. This could be problematic. Meanwhile, Black Spider felt the severing of the golem's limbs as an intense searing pain in his own body. He grit his teeth and fought the pain and the urge to pitch to his knees. Bax noticed his pain and drew up next to Black Spider to protect him. "Dismiss the golem," he said simply.
Black Spider quivered and shook his head. "Right," he seethed, breathing heavily. The golem swung its weight over towards Jadus and collapsed into its individual components in a crushing heap. Black Spider withdrew backwards and left Bax to face Jadus as he transformed into something new.

Jadus heard the form behind him crumbling. He quickly rolled forward again, twisting sideways and kneeling to face the avalanche of heavy materials. He crossed his arms and his blades, and leaped directly into the deluge with a roar. The sub-sonic whir bellowed forth more loudly, and his arm-guards opened into full-fledged metal shields, about two feet across and extending half-a-foot past his wrists and elbows. He bored through the concrete chunks and metal, pulverizing them into dust and shards as he passed through.

Standing atop the pile in the gray debris cloud, he slid his left blade under the grenade which was now lying there, as he stated over his shoulder, "Ahhh, I sense pain, gargoyle... How refreshing." He then turned and approached Bax. He was balancing the loaded-or-not-loaded ball of potential death on the sword's split-blade, idly rolling it back and forth down the length of it... hilt to tip and back again, as he continued to advance slowly.
"I remember you, actually," he said casually, his cold eyes boring into Bax's like those of a coiled snake, "You've been here before... In the same cell as my favorite toy."

Bax glared at Jadus. Favorite toy? What was he talking about? When the Senate had captured him, he was held in a cell somewhere with Sephiroth X and Zack. Could...his 'favorite toy' be one of them? Bax considered that thought and carefully watched the grenade. Clearly, Jadus was insane. Anyone who would so casually handle a grenade with the pin out had to be. "I do not remember you, Jadus."

Meanwhile, the shape shifter had chosen a new form behind them, having seen that the slow-moving golem had been unsuccessful in diffusing the grenade. This form was his own creation and did not resemble any other race. It was only vaguely humanoid, actually. His arms and legs withdrew into his torso, and eight black appendages replaced them. Each of these appendages split at the elbow. One branch formed a large ivory talon, and the other revealed a hand that held blades that resembled Jadus's. His body thickened and segmented, gleaming with a hardened gloss armor. His head reverted back to the Gargoyle-like visage, but pincers replaced the horns and the eye count rose from 2 to 8. This was where he got his namesake from...

The formation of the Black Spider was awesome and other-worldly. It would have rendered any man beyond speechless with its magnitude and complexity. This form clearly possessed frightening power and near-impenetrable defense. But as Jadus glanced at him, then casually back at Bax, someone might as well have told him that sometimes the wind blew outside.

"I hadn't gotten a turn with you, unfortunately... I was merely Chief Warrant Officer back then... Stripped of commission for my zeal, but then put into proper position to use my specialty in breaking prisoners. Some for business... all for pleasure." He then flicked his wrist, causing the grenade to fly through the air, and he quickly raised his shields, sub-sonic whirring cycling once more, and fell to a kneel as the unpredictable sphere almost instantly exploded a few feet in font of both intruders.

Both of them were instantly blinded by the hot, white light, and deafened and disoriented by the high-pitched, cruel burst of sound from the shrapnel-disguised flashbang, and they were pelted by pellets which pinged harmlessly off of Black Spider's form, but drove painfully into Bax, who at that moment could feel the pain of them all over and was flung back several yards into the floor by the force of the explosion.

Jadus, meanwhile, followed through immediately, slashing both of his blades in quick succession against Black Spider's limbs along his left side, then landing on his knees on the still stunned Bax's chest, blades halting their humming just as one of them went to the Phoeniyan's throat.

Jadus, knowing the Phoeniyan's ears were still ringing, said with loud volume, yet a still sinister calm tone, "I want that gold Strife... Where is he?"

Black Spider felt the blades, and sensed a crack in his armor, but quickly repaired it and prepared to strike until he saw Jadus leaning over Bax. Any sudden move might mean the end for Bax, so he held off for a moment and calculated his next move.

Bax on the other hand was shaking on the ground. Everything sounded hollow and unreal as blood seeped down from his ears. He looked around and saw rubber pellets around him. He had been wondering how he had survived that explosion at such close range--it was non-lethal. He saw Jadus moving his mouth, but his words just echoed with tintinabulous ringing. He noticed the word "Strife" on his lips through his blurred vision, and his eyes crossed. "Zack?" he spoke in his delirium. "Zack Strife...desert...drifters..."

Black Spider reared back as the plan cemented in his mind, and he slammed his legs down into the ground between him and Jadus. He grabbed Jadus's arms and legs, then wrapped his remaining appendages around Jadus with his talons pointed towards prominent arteries and veins, and dragged him through the hole.

Jadus smirked a bit. The wrong name... But the other soldiers had mentioned that. Still, he did not appreciate the interruption. His heart rate automatically rose as he was grabbed and sent plunging downward. And this reflex made him angry, for he had not intended such a situation. "Do you MIND?!" he snarled, clamping his teeth down on a button on his raised uniform collar. A mid-pitched zipping sound accompanied a series of high-tensile wires emerging, shredding the fabric of his vest and a layer of his pants, pushing the Spider's limbs away and wrapping around them. The man kicked away from him in time to avoid hitting the ground until a moment after the larger form did. He then pulled at the wires, which seemed anchored to his right arm-guard, binding most of the limbs together. With his other hand, he pulled a small trigger and sent a high-voltage electrical shock through the wire.

“It's rude to interrupt a conversation,” he growled with a smirk.

Black Spider had perfected this body over the last few decades, so the electric current felt like little more than a vibrational tickle. He snapped the wires into pieces and rose up to face Jadus. Blades slipped out of his hands and he grasped them menacingly. “It is my understanding that conversations happen over coffee, not grenades and swords to the jugular.”
The shape shifter started spinning his own blades and lunged at Jadus.

"That would be boring as hell," Jadus answered, likewise charging straight toward Black Spider with both blades drawn. He did not activate the sub-sonic frequencies at first as he quickly clashed blades with the large alien. His body and arms blurred, having to move double-time to counter twice as many blades as he held. He parried and dodged a flurry of swings, blocking several with his forearm shields, sparks flying from the metal. It was an unusual material which had a bluish sheen to it.
"It's difficult to beat Lumakian ore in durability," Jadus educated his foe. But then another swing from Black Spider sent him stumbling several feet back. "Heh, but nice momentum you've got there!" He shook the vibration out of his hand and then squeezed on his swords. The undulating current now flew at Black Spider's blades with destructive force.

Black Spider crouched down and lashed all four swords in Jadus's vicinity towards him. "And yet you only have Earthly materials. I have traveled the galaxy, and the best minerals are not of this world."
The shape shifter's muscles tensed and he drove his full force into Jadus.

Multiple blades clashed. Two of Black Spider's blades shattered on impact with the frequencies, allowing Jadus's blades to strike his chest and hew into one of his front limbs. One of Black Spider's blades glanced off of Jadus's right shield. One of them dragged against and into the Kevlar vest and found flesh in Jadus's side, non-lethally but bleeding visibly.

The soldier stumbled back quickly, still on guard, emitting a grunt, but his smirk only growing as if being wounded were a bonus. Then his right sword ran out of power. He noted this, and tossed them both a bit into the air, switching hands to keep the still-active one at his best hand. He then charged at Black Spider again with more rapid swings. "Perhaps, but Earth technology is constantly evolving."

Black Spider felt his front limb crack again, and he stopped using it for a moment as it healed. He rotated around so that four good arms were still facing Jadus. He retained two blades and left those in a defensive against Jadus's remaining blade.
"Technology," he said, gritting his teeth as he fended Jadus's slashes with quick glancing blows and the right amount of force. "People always think technology is enough. But those who rely too much on technology around bound to fail."
The shape shifter grinned. A part of him liked this Jadus--he was confident and powerful. An interesting, albeit twisted, bastard. But Black Spider had to keep him busy while Bax figured out a way out of here. Even with his skill, Bax wouldn't stand a chance against this guy in his current state.
Black Spider felt his remaining blades beginning to weaken, and he gathered his dark energy into the other two close, free arms. He was going to pulverize this bastard into oblivion.

The soldier smirked. "I see it more as assimilating what's useful for the moment. You, on the other hand, change your body for each situation. My changes are external. In the end, it's all the same."
Noticing the charging of energy, Jadus quickly tossed his left hand backward and disengaged his right from combat long enough to pull another trigger on his arm-guard. A three-clawed grappling hook launched behind his back, sinking into a far wall, and as it rapid-reeled he jerked swiftly backward from the blast's intended path.

The blast sliced through the floor and out into the streets below the building. It sent concrete rubble up in chunks, almost in seeming slow motion. Jadus landed in a three-point stance on the wall for an instant, glaring and smiling at Black Spider from across the hall as the dust and rocks floated around him.

Black Spider changed the course of blast two just before he threw it and sent it as a deadly fastball back to Jadus. Seeing this coming at him, Jadus took the quickest route of evasion: down. He released the grappler and rolled to the floor and forward as the blast hit above and behind him. The wall blew open, rubble raining down around and upon him, partially blocked by his up-curled arms, but still piling over his form.

Black Spider viciously dashed forward and began rapid stabbing motions down into the rubble with his elbow talons with his four free arms. With the remaining two that he wasn't standing in, he began to gather more dark energy. He had to be careful not to do too much lest he annihilate Bax as well. But he needed to ground this bastard.

While the rubble momentarily made Jadus an ambiguous target, it quickly crumbled away, and he scrambled to keep blocking the blows. He was effectively pinned by their power and speed. He gauged their trajectories, then made a sacrifice, allowing one of them to gouge into his left thigh as he flung his left hand forward with a loud "HAH!" of mingled pain and satisfaction. A knife was in his hand one moment, and the next only the handle: a ballistic knife. The launched blade sang the brief distance through the air as his sword had in sound-frequency, aimed into one of the spider's book-lungs, penetrating into the flesh beyond... and then it exploded into shrapnel inside.

Black Spider's eyes crossed and he let loose a massive roar of pain. He lost control and let loose the dark energy randomly. One took out a pillar and caused the floor above to collapse and the other shot up into the sky, where it exploded high above Zion.

"FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" the shape shifter screamed, grabbing his gaping chest. His insides felt like they were on fire and blood flowed freely from the massive wound. He pitched down to the ground and vomited a huge amount of blood. "Fucking bastard," he seethed, glaring at Jadus with all eight eyes. He raised a hand, picked Jadus up without giving him a chance to fight back, and smashed him through the concrete into the floor below. He didn't follow him this time, but crawled away from the hole and collapsed onto the ground in pain.
Breathing had become nearly impossible with one lung obliterated and the other leaking air faster than it could draw it in. Black Spider reached his hands inside his chest and felt the metallic shards and gunpowder. He focused as much as he was able and directed his cells around the materials. The shards were broken down into their base elements and absorbed into Black Spider's body. The iron was sent into the bloodstream, the sulfur was taken as nutrients, and everything else found a place. Black Spider removed his hands from his chest cavity and grunted as the wounds began to close. His fast metabolism was working just fine, even if it was an incredibly painful process. After a few agonizing moments, the wound shut. He let his body take care of his internal injuries for now.
"Bax," he called out weakly. "Please tell me you're not dead."

Bax jumped down from the floor above and looked at the mess around him. "Adi disht! Varsad!" Bax let loose a stream of Phoeniyan curses and then looked at Black Spider. "No, I am not dead. I am looking for a way out. Where is Jadus?"

Jadus lay coughing on the floor below, surrounded by smashed concrete. Had it not been for the vest and armored belt, he knew he would have probably been dead. As it is, he wasn't quite sure if he was on his way to that or not; the wind was knocked out of him, and when he finally could gasp in air, he felt the distinctive sharp stinging of cracked ribs. He coughed painfully several times, yet still relatively calmly tested his limbs even during such throes. Both legs worked. His right arm worked. His left would not obey and hurt like hell at the shoulder. Dislocated.

So he manually lifted his flaccid left arm with his right, and aimed it at the second ceiling up through the hole. And he fired his grappler. It sailed up, then pulled him upward slowly, effectively hanging him straight from his dislocated arm. This caused it to pop back into place loudly. He floated back up to the floor the two were on, growling and rubbing the joint. "AAAAAH! You two are quite the challenge!" And amidst the bloody scrapes on his visible skin and smudges and dust covering him, he was still wearing that sharp, hot smile.

"He is a demon," Bax whispered.
"No. Just psychotic," Black Spider replied.

"I take as much of this world as I allow myself to," he said simply. Then he zipped quickly to the floor they had started out on and leaped out of sight past the ceiling. An instant later... a grenade dropped down and rolled between the two beings.

Bax freaked out and backed a few steps away, looking up at Jadus with incredulity. Black Spider picked the grenade up and sighed. "I want to shove this down your throat," he said. He glared and pitched the thing as hard as he could through the hole in the ground to the floor below.

The grenade plunked on the floor below, bouncing into the distance a bit, then hitting a wall and rolling back a bit closer, but still about half a room away from where they currently were. From above, Jadus laughed. His voice echoed off of the walls. "Hahahahaha! You two are LIVELY! I LOVE it!" Then he bent his upper-half upside-down through the hole in the ceiling and sprayed machine gun fire toward both of them, aiming quite directly toward Black Spider and at Bax's feet.

Black Spider leaped back and pumped dark blasts back up towards Jadus. Bax ran off to continue his search for some way out of Zion as Black Spider gave him some cover fire. Black Spider gritted his teeth as Bax scampered away. If the Phoeniyan king wasn't such a close friend of his, he would have ended this battle a few minutes ago by just annihilating Jadus. He hated holding back, especially against such a crafty opponent. He had nearly been killed playing this careful game of cat and dog before. He might have to try something...drastic.

Jadus had obviously avoided the blasts; his voice was more muffled, but still seemed to come through the hole due to acoustics. "Amazing. You recover so quickly. That would be a dream-come-true for me! Imagine... torturing you for weeks nonstop, never running out of places to damage... Though you would be slippery to contain. We have the means, though."

Black Spider knew the torturing type--he had done plenty of torture of his own. This guy seemed like he knew his shit. He would hate to deal with this man's...technique.

"Fashalt!" Bax screamed. Black Spider's eyes widened. The only reason Bax would use his real name would be if he found something good. He knelt down, clapped his hands together, and sent a large blast up towards Jadus--10 feet in diameter. In the wake of the explosion, Black Spider disappeared from the area and followed the sound of Bax's voice.

Black Spider found Bax in a sort of small hangar, poking around at a small ship. "Do you think it will fly?"
Black Spider looked at the thing. He felt like the thing, if it was actually fueled and had a power cell of some sort, could probably fly. Whether it would make it out of the city, Black Spider couldn't tell for sure. "It's better than nothing," the shape shifter said. "Get it open and let's run."

Meanwhile, Jadus rolled down onto the pile of new rubble from above. He had been lucky; the acoustics had been odd enough that the blast missed him, though it had still knocked him tumbling to the side. He was sore... which made him feel more alive and awake than he had in a long time. His eyes wide and eager, he drew each of his pistols and ran the way he figured the intruders had gone.
"Where do you wish you're going?!" he managed to say in a casual tone that also carried great volume. Despite being silhouetted by light behind him, his teeth and eyes showed brightly his zeal. "I'm having the time of my life, and we've only just started." He fired one pistol at each of them. At Bax, a series of bullets. At Black Spider, a spread of flechettes.

Black Spider waved his hand quickly before him and a large flash of light exploded, destroying all semblance of shadow as the light blanketed the hangar. He then leapt towards Bax and knocked him out of the way. The flechette shards whizzed past him, but the bullets grazed Black Spider's bulky shoulders. As he grasped Bax in his arms, he began to shift into something new...

Bax and Black Spider hit the ground and rolled near the ship. As the light cleared, Jadus looked on and saw two Baxes staring at each other in shock and surprise. They were identical, down to the bangle on the right wrist, the tattered clothes, and the smudges and bruises of battle. Black Spider obviously had a plan, but he sure as hell wasn't telling the confused Bax.

Jadus chuckled deeply, continuing to stride toward them once his vision cleared. "Creative. And easier to deal with." He continued to fire off bullets at them on semi-automatic, the ironically less dangerous of his two pistols as far as he could tell, aiming for both extremities and mass.
Both Baxes dove out of the way of the gunfire in opposite directions. They took off running and drew their blades out.

"Black Spider, this is insane. What are you thinking?"
"It's a one seater. I told you I could only get one of us out. This is your shot. Go. I've got your back."
"No," Bax thought. "I can't let you take my place here. I won't let you be captured."
"I'll be fine. I know Jadus's type. Go."
"...damn it."

The real Bax (though unknown to Jadus) jumped up and landed in the cockpit. The other one followed suit, and then looked incredulous as he couldn't find a seat. "Damn it," he cried. He looked over at Jadus and deflected a bullet with one of his swords.
Jadus gritted his teeth and shot several times at the ship. But the bullets pinged futilely off of its armor; the downside to superior Zion technology being stolen. There was a lot Jadus could do... but not so many without killing one or both potential prisoners, or one escaping.

The Bax in the cockpit seat looked up at the other with uncertainty, and started smashing buttons. The engine suddenly roared to life, sending a rush of bluish flames down and out. The other Bax suddenly looked like he was about to lose balance, and he tried to find something to grasp. The ship slowly rose up and hovered there, demolishing the stand it had been on.

Jadus looked a bit un-amused at this occurrence, and started fighting his way toward the hovering ship, shielding his face with his left arm-guard and drawing one of his short-swords, teeth gritted at the pain still in his shoulder. "I guess I've gotten rusty behind the damn desk," he lamented over the roar of the engine as he slow-motion ran while leaning heavily forward. He began to power his sword as he pushed gradually two meters from the craft, and attempted to plunge the tip into the fuel tank.

Inside the cockpit, lights were flashing and messages were screaming out. "Attention: Unable to close cockpit. Unsafe to launch. Please clear the area."
Both Baxes screamed "Varsad!" at the same time. Jadus then slammed his sword towards the fuel tank. While it did not manage to puncture the cell, he did impact the steady ship with a great deal of force. The unbalanced Bax was knocked clear of the ship, and he skidded into the far wall. The ship, sensing it was no clear of obstructions, snapped a black bulletproof glass roof over the top of the cockpit and accelerated quickly out of the building.

Through the intense button mashing, guns began firing directly ahead, creating a clean path for the ship, which rocketed over Zion, weaving between buildings and careening up and over the wall out of the range of a hail of gunfire.
"Noooo!" screamed the remaining Bax, who got up and ran towards the hole before realizing that he still had company. He leveled his swords and twitched with a look of fear and determination in his eyes.
Jadus glared at the receding ship, slowly lowering his arms as the gale force lightened. Then his gaze slowly leveled on the Bax that remained... and he grinned predatorily.

"It's just you and me now. The question is... which are you?" This seemed more idle wondering rather than a direct inquiry. He slowly half-knelt, right foot moving forward to angle his body, slowly raising his sword.

The figure before Jadus was, in fact, Black Spider, but he wasn't going to let on. While he had hoped to escape with Bax, he was adapting his plans with each passing moment. If he could give Bax a chance to search that island without Senate interruption, he would have a higher chance of success. So if he could convince Jadus that he was Bax, then maybe he would be fine. But could Bax survive without him? He wasn't entirely sure, but...
Black Spider roared and lunged at Jadus with his replicas of the Diroxauralis and Valermos, which surged with fire.

Jadus eagerly leaped straight at the disguised foe. He aimed his sword carefully, snagging the edge of the Diroxauralis between the segments and using his momentum to push it, and "Bax's" arm, to the opposite side. This caused the Valermos to clash with both other blades. And in that instant, the fire-being's side was made vulnerable. Jadus's left hand flew forward, the shield receding mechanically and the grappler-claws gouging several inches into the flesh.

Next to "Bax's" ear, Jadus whispered acidly, "Either way... your skin is soft." And he jerked the claws out and leaped backwards, flinging the fiery blood away with a jerk of the wrist... and dropping a used syringe in the process.

Black Spider grabbed his side and decided not to heal himself just yet, lest he give Jadus more ammo. "You are a bastard," he seethed in Bax's voice and odd way of speech. He righted himself, sheathed the swords, and held his hands before him. Luckily for him, the bangle on his wrist was a fake and he was uninhibited by Bax's circumstances. He could still use the Phoeniyan physiology to its full potential. His red eyes flashed and he shouted "Draca Roglia!" as a massive column of flame exploded out from his hands, rocketing towards Jadus.

Just as he unleashed this attack however, his vision blurred and he noticed the syringe on the floor. Though the attack continued, he felt the serum beginning to take effect. He felt it acting on his synapses all throughout his body, and he tried to speed up his metabolism beyond Phoeniyan limitations to counteract it. But something was wrong...this was...powerful stuff...

Jadus's eyes widened at the incoming propelled inferno. In the glow, he was clearly excited rather than shocked or frightened. His grin grew as much as his eyes did. He then dove forward and flat onto the floor, while folding the Lumakian shield on his right arm over his head and back. "HAH! This is HOT!" he observed in an impressed tone as the cloth on his back and legs were singed by the close passage of the attack. The material in the Kevlar became quite searing. The attack exploded against the far wall, smashing crates and igniting paint and wood, red-heating exposed metal beams.

Just as eagerly as he had dove, Jadus popped back onto his feet quickly, unstrapping and removing the vest, his hair now loose and frazzled as he tossed the shell aside. "HAH! I LIKE YOU!" he exclaimed. "You fight back... That's the best kind." He slid his tongue across his smiling lips slowly.

Black Spider focused on maintaining his form. Unconsciousness was coming swiftly. Somehow Jadus had managed to incapacitate him, the tricky bastard. He bit his lip and staggered about. He pitched to his knees and closed his eyes. This was bad. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't get out now.
"Good luck, Bax," he projected to his friend. The shape shifter looked up at Jadus delirious but defiant. What would Bax say in this situation?
"You...are insane."

Jadus walked slowly toward the downed figure, giving a slightly sage edge to his smile. "All the better for expanding my place in an insane world," he said. Then he stopped a few feet away, bending down and pulling a small hand-radio from his boot, straightening as he said into it, "Colonel Jadus Krieg here. I have secured one of the subjects. Deploy collector team Beta... in seven seconds.”

Six seconds later, the grenade that had been abandoned the floor below exploded, rocking the floor and tipping a few more crates over. Jadus looked pleased, as Black Spider's senses faded to black.

[Shadow Phoenix]

The acceleration of the ship plastered Bax to his seat in the ship, and he was barely able to clutch the controls to guide it out of the way of the tall deathtrap buildings. In an instant, Bax heard the ship calmly tell him that he was under fire. Zion knew that this ship was being piloted by someone they didn’t want flying it, and so they were trying to ground him. Bax zoomed up and around buildings, narrowly dodging volleys of bullets from ground and air. As he neared the wall, he began to get a grasp on how to really fly the ship. It had been at least two years since he had flown a small ship like this, but it was like riding a bike. It was all coming back to him.

This thing wasn’t the fastest thing Bax had piloted, and its handling wasn’t the best thing ever, but it was damn good—very impressive for Earth. Maybe the initial assessments of Gaian—Earth—technology had been off. With something like this, they weren’t far off from making true first contact of their own. Bax grinned as adrenaline coursed through his veins. It would have been fun—if the Senate wasn’t trying to shoot him down.

Bax hated the idea of leaving Black Spider behind. He had never known him to be self-sacrificing like that. Something big had changed. The shape shifter said he would be all right…but Bax wondering exactly what he was thinking. Would he try to escape? Or let himself be captured?

“Alert—change your course or the ship will crash.”
“Shut up!”
Bax pulled up on the controls and the ship rocketed up. It shook as it was pelted with bullets from the wall guard. Bax grit his teeth and half-thanked the Senate for building something it couldn’t shoot down as he cleared the wall and soared off through the midnight sky towards the moon. He whooped and hollered in excitement at the first dangerous reconnaissance mission he had pulled off in years. It was only after a moment of humming flight above the glassy sand dunes that Bax was reminded of his personal combat creed.

Never leave a man behind.

“Black Spider, I’m out! Have you kicked Jadus’s ass yet? Please tell me you’ll be joining me any minute!”
Bax waited for a moment for his shape shifting telepathic friend to respond. But nothing came.
“Fashalt?”
Then, a faint, weak voice. “Good luck, Bax…”
Bax’s eyes widened. That didn’t sound good at all. Bax clutched the controls and started to turn the ship around. He couldn’t let his friend fall into the enemy’s clutches like this.

But…this isn’t what Black Spider would want. If Bax went back and couldn’t get out again, then the whole operation would be in vain. Bax sighed and righted the ship. He looked around him and started pressing a few buttons. Eventually, one brought up a map of the world. Bax quickly located the island of Franca, noted his present location, made a few calculations and charted a course to his next destination.

---

OoC: Just a quickie. I've noticed that Bax has been escaping from everywhere lately. Nibelheim, then the Super City, then Midgar, and now Zion. I could almost turn his adventures into cheesy "Escape from New York/LA" rip-offs. Snake? Meet Bax.

It was awful tempting to call this post “The Wind’s New Direction” or some derivation thereof, but FZU took that 5 months and 4 days ago…and hasn’t done anything since I wants more Lynx stories. We’ve got Bax, Zack, Dante, Onikage, Valtiel, Catrina, Hodia, Azriel, and some implied Seph and Dark Crono action in this chapter. What happened to our (undead?) feline friend?

New chapter? Or keep going in this one?

[The Waffle King]

Its structure was barely being held together, gaping holes in the floors, walls, and ceiling. Including holes into the Subconscious, which were trying to close off with bandages and stitches and rope and tape on their own, to the protest of beasts grudgingly returning to it after their rampages. The usual figures all lay torn and unresponsive, nobody able to get to the window.

But then slowly, one of them crawled painfully over the floor. It grasped at the rough walls, pulling itself into a kneel, straining painfully as the motions further opened its bleeding wounds.

“...I... have to help...”

Finally, the figure of the Quiet One managed to get his eyes to the ledge.

***

The teen slowly looked toward Dante, the tears now silent but still sliding down slowly. Still distant, he quietly said, "...You're hurt..."

"Not exactly hard to miss....at least they're safe" Dante pointed to the back of the truck. A mother and her two sons occupied the space. The mother was fairly young, the eldest son about 12 years old, and the third just an infant in his brother's arms. They were shaking, but wore weary smiles, glad to be getting out of that place. But something was off; there was a missing passenger.

The boy blinked a few times, eyes slowly going more into focus. "...Where... Where's Onikage?" Dante's head drooped. "He...didn't make it, kid. He's the reason me and these folks made it here. Don't know what happened to him, but he ain't coming back with us." The boy felt dizzy, sick... and wanted to slide back out of awareness.

***

Inside his mind, his one standing persona lost strength in his legs and began to collapse. But he was caught by a pair of strong arms. He started to look back at who it was, but he was interrupted by a familiar voice saying, "No no, kiddo, don't look at me... Just hang in there. I'll help for a few minutes till the wall closes."

The blond facet complied, nodding and keeping his desperate eyes forward. Behind him stood Zack, a hybrid of freshly dead, and the decaying form that had appeared in Valtiel's hellish world. Fresh blood, congealed blood, and tattered organs hung from his patchy flesh. One of his feet was missing; the one that had been shackled on the past appearance of the real Zack in this part of the mind. A new shackle was forming on his other foot, though, materializing in snaking forms, and a chain was slowly growing toward the biggest hole in the Subconscious wall.

***

The boy's eyes widened and he cried out, "What do you mean, 'don't know what happened to him'?! Valtiel does messed up things! Are you sure we can't save him?!" Dante snapped back at him. "No! We get these people to safety first. And if I know him at all, he'll be ok. He wouldn't let a place like that kill him." The teen sighed with shaken relief, running a hand over his face. "Jeez... Don't scare me like that..." He then looked at his door. Despite the facet of himself usually being soft, he then spoke with uncharacteristic determination. "...You get these people out, maybe I'll go back for him now."
No no no, don't you dare!

Dante smirked back at the boy. "Not happening, kid. You gotta protect these people if we run into anything between here and Libertas. I won't be doing much fightin' with this hole in my gut." Dante coughed. "Speaking of which, I hope you know how to drive stick. I don't know how long I can stay awake like this."

The Strife's eyes widened. "Uhhh... I uh..."
You're trying to say 'yes', but that's not you...
"I was told how to once but, I never actually did it... Maybe I should stop the bleeding instead."

---

The APC slowly pulled into Libertas. Dante flung the driver side door open and dragged himself out. Pressing the button to lower the rear hatch, he started ushering the family out. "Alright, last stop, tents and sand, everybody out!" He pushed back into the truck after the family filed out, reappearing with a cold half-gone box of pizza, and began cramming it into his mouth. A medic checked the family, all uninjured, but saw the stained bandages on Dante and rushed for him. He quickly stopped in his tracks with the barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead, Dante at the other end with his diminishing pizza and an annoyed expression. "I'm busy, call back later..." The medic backed off slowly as Dante resumed devouring the food.

Shortly after the family was cleared, the Strife teen approached them. The mother was speaking to other Libertas citizens, though with her hand on her elder son's shoulder to keep him near. In turn, the boy was still clutching his tiny sibling, who was winding down from loud protests due to the doctor's poking and prodding. The teen bent down slightly, smiling sagely at the boy. "You're a good brother," he said with quiet admiration. The child lowered his eyes and readjusted his grip on the baby, finally nodding once and turning to keep closer to his mother. And the teen moved back to lean on the APC with his own head lowered, exhausted in all ways possible.

You're a good brother too...
".........."
...I hafta go now... Can you stand on your own?
"...I think so..." he whispered.
The others are doing better too. But it looks like you're the boss now. Take care of yourself...
The other entity faded from his mind, then slowly, his memory. For a moment, he felt the absence heavily, and covered his face again.

But then, he straightened, and approached Dante, though careful to keep a respectful distance.
"Valtiel messed with my head... That's why I was such a sandbag..." His head was lowered, eyes slightly narrowed and troubled, yet seeming to keep himself distant from the event in this factual statement. Dante finished up his pizza. "Yeah, i know. Don't let a couple bad dreams get to ya though. We're safe now, that's what matters. As long as we stay alive, we'll have as many chances as we need."

The boy took in those words, then slowly nodded. Then he straightened. Something in his mind quietly clicked. If I get the helm... then he gets the name. It was a last moment of memory before it was gone. The Strife was still Zack... in name. For now. It was all he could keep. The name had to endure. Even if the Quiet One was no longer quite so quiet.

"We'll have to be careful though,” Zack said, “in case that creep tries that crap again. Meanwhile, what's the plan for getting Onikage out of there?"