Gau/Wirey Dragon soared on the thermals, almost a half-mile in the clear blue sky. His Rage-enhanced vision could make out the town even now, the Auction House prominently in view. He noted with pleasure that they had apparently continued rebuilding, and seemed to be thriving, judging from the people traveling to and from the town. Banking for one appreciative overflight, Gau started to wing southward in a long arcing glide, looking for an isolated place to land near the town. <Don't want to scare people...>

As he closed in on the town, Gau noticed a buzzing noise, like nothing he'd ever heard before. It was very faint, but was growing louder as he approached the town. Although Gau didn't realize it, he was hearing the noise from a lot further off than most people would have, thanks to Rage-enhanced senses.

Suddenly, the peaceful morning was shattered as soldiers and MagiTek armor materialized on the city limits, seemingly from nowhere. In a matter of seconds, they began to advance on the city. Gau was directly above the troops, and he couldn't see any way they could have been hiding through normal means. No sign of trenches, or any physical means whatsoever. Gau also noticed the buzzing noise was now beneath him, coming from something in the general vicinity, still unseen. Almost as if by... magic?

"I thought magic was gone! At least, mine has."

Gau was very confused. How could there be MagiTek when the magic has left the world? Certainly if magic had returned, he would have noticed. Ever since Kefka's defeat, certain Rages were no longer as powerful. It was a loss to no longer instinctively call down spells, to lash out with magic that the others could only cast by learning from the Magicite shards but came instinctively to some creatures. <This is something Dee could figure out, if only she were here.> Gau frowned as a pang of regret flashed over him from the realization he hadn't thought about her that day. All of a sudden, he wanted to turn around and go back. Better she be with him then alone... <No. She's tough, but not an adventurer. Better off back at the cave and out of harm's way then here, whatever this is turning out to be.> Gau wasn't worried about what may happen back at the cave, being as he had cleared out the cave soon after returning to the Veldt. It had taken a hard day's work driving out the Toecutters and one or two Rhyos that were still left. While most of the animals now acknowledged him as master, a few required a show of force, typically the most monstrous ones.

Gau started to close in, to discover the identity of the troops, although in his heart he was already certain of the one source that possessed MagiTek before. When he was close enough to pick out details with his Rage-enhanced vision, he finally saw the dreaded symbol, the one he had thought was gone until the dreams had begun.

The symbol of the Empire.

<So this must be what the dream was warning me of! The Empire must have been resurrected by this Kefka lookalike. But what was the other part about?>

Then it began.

As Gau watched in horror, the troops reached the city proper. Troops that started to torch houses, and slaughter the militia that responded at once, as archers Gau thought were working for Jidoor opened fire on the militia as well. Brilliant streaks of crimson, cobalt, and argent tore through the air as MagiTek armor formations layed down fields of interlocking death and mayhem. Gau was too stunned to react, and all he could do was watch as a vicious battle raged back and forth. Suddenly, he noticed some familiar figures fighting a monster that resembled a metallic Behemoth, only uglier.

"Uwaooh! That looks like... AHHH!"

Pain lanced through Gau as an arrow sliced across his back and through the flickering aura encasing him. Gau/Wirey Dragon threw back his head and roared in fury, all thought of friends gone. Turning in the direction of attack, he saw nothing, except more arrows materializing from nowhere in a lethal hail. Now prepared, and angered to no small degree, Gau easily evaded the barrage, and closed in as he realized what he was seeing.

A vanished airship. Now it made sense, how the troops had appeared from nowhere, and why the arrows where coming from up in the air, as opposed to invisible archers on the ground. Still diving towards the source of the arrows, weaving an intricate series of jinks and evasions to confuse his opponents, Gau began to tick off a list of possible options, as Dee had taught him to. <Let's see, direct assault and stealth are the only ones really applicable. But what to use?>

Suddenly, the buzzing noise increased, and a tingling sensation ran across him as the cloak was pierced and the immense craft appeared. Dropping the Rage, Gau landed amidst the surprised archers, and before they could draw their swords, his eyes flared again. Gau laughed as the dark thoughts and emotions of the Retainer ran through his mind. Lashing out at the terrified soldiers with the gleaming blade that appeared in hand, Gau/Retainer easily parried the few attempts made to hit him. As the nearest soldiers died, the remaining ones started to back up, and tried to get far enough to go back to their bows.

As his blade gutted the last soldier foolish enough to fight him hand to hand, Gau/Retainer turned to face the now re-grouping archers. With his blade describing intricate arcs and slashes in the air, Gau suddenly stopped and brandished the sword at the archers, just as the first shafts left their bows. The archers watched the unusual figure, and wondered why he was just standing there as the arrows whistled through the air at him. Suddenly the figure flinched as one arrow pierced his arm, but the others flew by harmlessly. Still, as the archers nocked more arrows, they started to smile.

Then they died.

With an ear-splitting scream, magenta energy exploded beneath the archers as the Shock detonated. Instantly vaporized, the archers were denied a chance even to scream. As the lethal column faded, leaving a gaping hole in the uppper deck, Gau/Retainer heard the footsteps of approaching soldiers and the shriek of alarms sounding. Taking advantage of the smoke and flames that had resulted from the attack, Gau/Retainer jumped into the hole, and as the first Rage faded, another began to flicker into place. <Outsider!> Gau thought, as he hit the floor, and immediately slipped into the shadows, becoming effectively invisible. More troops pounded by, as sergeants screamed at them to find and stop whatever had attacked them. Once the troops were gone, Gau paused to pull the arrow out of his arm. It hurt, but it was a clean hit, and nothing to worry about now.

<Now what do I do? I can't fight them all, but I can't just leave now. People are dying, and my friends may be hurt, if that was indeed who I saw.> Suddenly, the eerie presence of the Outsider began to intrude on his consciousness, and a plan began to form. <Didn't Setzer's ship have an engine, something to make it run? Hit that, and maybe I can stop things without any direct conflict. But where would it be in something this size?> The Outsider's presence seemed to consider this, and an idea formed in Gau's mind. <Ask someone! Chop off a finger until they... Wait a second!> Gau shivered in revulsion. He wasn't a torturer, but the Rage seemed to consider this a swell concept. <It's one thing for an opponent to die in honest combat, but this, this, this just isn't my way.> One downside to Dee's teaching him to let the Rages extend, and to utilize skills and knowledge as opposed to simple fighting abilities, was that the Rages sometimes took on too much of a mind of their own. This was one side Gau didn't really like, but he would have to deal with it later.

"Need some help, Gau?"

"Dee!"

Gau spun, and saw a familiar figure standing beside him. Long brown hair, green eyes, and a smile that sent shivers up his spine... wait. Green eyes? And how did she get here? Unless...

"Hello Gau. I have some news for you."

Enygma smiled sweetly at Gau. <C'mon, you lug, fall for it.> By all indications, this form should have no trouble lulling Gau into trusting him. <Natasha's going to love this, once EVERYONE finds out who Daddy Dearest is for her.> Suddenly, Enygma found rough hands wrapped around his throat, as he was hoisted into the air.

"You not Dee! Gau know Dee have brown eyes, and back in the Veldt. Talk or die!"

Gau's anger started to build. How did this thing know Dee, and why was it shaped like her, only with green eyes that suddenly glowed brighter as he stared into them. The Outsider presence suggested several ideas, most involved creative uses for Tack stars and other sharp objects as incentive for this thing to come clean. In Gau's present state, he was starting to consider them seriously, and apparently the thing before him realized it.

"Ok, Ok, you can put me down. I'm sorry, I just thought this would be the best way to make your acquaintance, and offer some information."

Enygma thought quickly, as Gau only tightened his grip and slammed him into the bulkhead. <I could probably easily fight my way out, maybe even kill him, but that wouldn't help any. I want everybody to know, and he's got the potential for some serious mayhem on this ship.> Enygma's form started to shift as Gau stared in shock. Suddenly Gau held form #222, inoffensive young man. As Gau continued to stare at the black haired, green eyed man in his grasp, Enygma started to speak again.

"I said I was sorry! Look, you want to find the engine room or not? I also have a nice little tidbit concerning dear departed Emperor Gestahl, or rather, the spawn of his loins, if you know what I mean!"

Gau/Outsider dropped the young man, and started to finger a Tack star that appeared in his hand out of nowhere.

"Alright, speak. But quickly, or..."

Enygma started to giggle.<Boy, is he always like this? Or did the little lady give him a case of testosterone poisoning?> Quicker than Gau could react, Enygma snatched the star out of Gau's hand, and began to casually pick his nails with it.

"Don't threaten me! I'm trying to do you a favor. First, the engine room is here..."

An image formed in Gau's head. Suddenly he could see the whole ship, and the true size of it awed him. But he could make out a path to the engine room, down two decks and past the troop carrier bays. No problem for the Outsider to negotiate with minimal trouble. <How he do that?>, Gau wondered.

"Secondly, Gestahl, the old coot, had a daughter, who's just the sweetest little swordswoman you could imagine. And you know what that means."

"No, I don't."

Gau/Outsider was getting impatient.

"Geez. Get a clue, beast-boy! That means there's another heir to the Empire, you twit! Her name is Natasha, and she's a looker..."

Once again, an image filled Gau's mind, this time of a blue-eyed blonde carrying a black blade and wearing armor of a similar hue.

"How did you do that, shifter?"

Looking around, Gau realized that the figure was gone! Where the man(?) had been up against the bulkhead there was now three words burned into the wall.

<Enygma was here? What kind of name is that?>

"GET HIM! THERE'S THE INTRUDER!"

Gau/Outsider was suddenly snatched back to reality by the thundering footsteps of 30 or so soldiers pounding towards him. Before Gau could react, the Outsider took over. Suddenly, a hail of Tack stars whistled down the passageway into the oncoming troops as the Outsider started to hurl them, seemingly from nowhere. More troops died as the lethal shower of ethereal stars tore into them, ignoring armor and burying themselves in hearts, throats, and heads. As the remaining soldiers stopped and brought up shields, the barrage died out. The first soldier to peek over the corner of his shield stared, for there was no sign of the dark figure that had stood there before them. <But how? That passage is too long for anybody to run down in so short a time?>

"Alright, fan out. Check every corner, and BE CAREFUL!"

This was from the Sgt. in charge. Fortunately for him, he had been in the rear, and the first to remember his shield. He was still trembling, as the intruder had killed over half his men in less than 10 seconds. The thought occurred to him that if the intruder showed up again, it would only take 7 seconds to finish the job. <Here's hoping...>

Gau/Outsider smirked as he made his way past the troops, pressed between the beams in the shadow-filled ceiling. <As long as they don't look up, I'm fine.> he thought. <On second thought, as long as they don't look up, THEY'RE fine!> Reaching the end of the passageway after a minute, he dropped to the ground and stepped into the stairwell, a clear image of the ship and his destination still in his head...

* - * - *

Captain Brazier of the N.I.A. Fury leaned back in his command chair on the bridge, and drummed his fingers as the nervous lieutenant before him gave his report. Apparently the intruder that had singlehandedly wiped out most of his archers, as well as half of the security team sent to find him, was still at large.

"And now the intruder, no identification yet, is nowhere to be found. After attacking the security team, he disappeared. The sergeant in charge requests a heavy armor party, at least three MagiTek suits if possible."

Captain Brazier sighed, and started to toy with the dull silver fittings on his black greatcoat, an elaborate affair covered with toolwork and metal trim, his one concession to individuality that all commanding officers in the new Empire seemed to embrace now. He guessed that when your new emperor dresses like a colorblind loon, dress codes didn't make that much of a difference.

"Very well, he may have them. But I had better see results this time, or..."

A small glance to the left, where a well worn set of whips hung, was all that was needed.

"Yes sir! Right away, sir!"

"Dismissed."

Lt. Kron snapped a hasty salute, and left as quickly as possible. Captain Brazier had a reputation for ordering whippings without so much as a twitch to indicate he was angry at all. But at least he was equally quick to reward success, so it balanced out. Still, if only it weren't for those damn floggings...

Captain Brazier pondered some more. He would have to notify General Renshield eventually, but how to phrase it? There's no way to write off the deaths of 24 archers, and 17 soldiers as a "minor problem", especially when the cause was ONE figure, which no one got a good look at. The closest soldier that survived mentioned something about a "flicker", or double image, but beyond that, nothing. <Damn. This was supposed to be an easy assault, just sit back and drop troops. Sascha promised us the ships were untouchable!>

Meanwhile, three decks below, Gau slipped through dark passageways, as the Outsider presence guided him from shadow to shadow. The image the stranger had implanted in his mind was still crystal clear, and so far everything matched up. <Take a right, should be a small crosswalk across the main armor storage, then...> Sure enough, the next turn revealed a large bay, two decks in height, that had spaces sufficient for over a hundred suits of MagiTek armor, now only holding about twenty or so. Troops walked between the storage supports, doubly alert and looking around nervously. As Gau/Outsider sized up the situation, he noticed a small group of soldiers activate a trio of MagiTek suits, and then start sweeping the area. <Must be ready for serious trouble, and all because of me! I'm touched.> Still, Gau had never had trouble taking out MagiTek armor before, and wasn't about to worry now. <I could take them now, just drop down in the middle of them and start lopping off heads...> Gau pushed back the Outsider's thoughts and started to look for a way across that wouldn't draw attention. <Or maybe something else needs to draw their attention.> A moment later, a conveniently placed tack star caused a suit to crash to the ground, immediately drawing a crowd of guards and the MagiTek armor soldiers to the far end of the bay. <Not bad, for an amateur.> said the presence in Gau's mind as he sprinted across the walkway and down the next corridor.

<Almost there, just another two turns and we can, well, I guess I'll figure it out when I get there.> Gau suddenly realized he had no set plan beyond "Blow up the engine room". As he began to turn over options ranging from simply tearing it apart with the largest rage he had, to Shocking it to pieces, or maybe it was time to try Io. That one had potential, but Gau had never had time to fully try it out.

Suddenly, as he padded down the last stretch of corridor, a lone figure strode around the corner and headed straight for Gau. Gau snapped into an attack posture, but paused when he realized the figure was not a soldier of the Empire. Odd leggings, a yellowish tunic and black pants, and a huge backpack with an umbrella strapped across it. The young man looked at Gau, black hair held away from his eyes by a yellow bandanna with black stripes on it. Noting Gau's stance, he only smiled wearily, then spoke.

"Furinkan kouka, wa dokoda?"

"Beg pardon?"

The young man frowned, then turned around and headed back the way he came. Gau relaxed, then started to follow the strange figure. As he rounded the last corner, he stopped in shock. The young man was nowhere to be found! Then he realized there were 3 guards, one in Heavy Armor. Before he could be noticed, Gau/Outsider slipped back around the corner. <Time for a new approach. I can't sneak over them, and the Heavy Armor is a tough customer. Plus this will definitely draw a crowd unless I finish them quickly.> Gau let the Outsider fade away, and thought for a moment. <Aha!>

Gau's eyes flared again, and this time the figure that enveloped him spread out not two, but six arms, each holding a wicked curved blade. As the Hemophyte's brutish thoughts began to run through his mind, Gau braced himself. <Three, two, one...>

"RRRRRAAAAWWWWWRRRRRR!"

The three soldiers jumped, and one turned the Heavy Armor to bear on the source of the shout. All that could be seen was a large blur that ran towards them, and suddenly leaped into the air, coming down directly at the suit of armor. The pilot quickly punched a button, and a Tek missile slammed into the figure, knocking it to the side and into the wall. The soldiers cautiously advanced on hulking figure, squinting as the monster warped and shifted, occasionally disappearing altogether to reveal a blond teenage male. <Uwaooh, that HURT! Gau feel sick to stomach!> thought Gau, not able to appreciate the fact that if it weren't for the Rage encasing him, he would currently be sporting a gaping torso wound.

<LET ME OUT, BEFORE THEY GET TO US!> bellowed the Hemphyte inside his head, and for a second the Rage's presence almost took over completely. <Why not?> thought Gau, and with that he let the Rage loose.

"HAHAHAHAHA! A FIGHT!"

With that, the Hemophyte jumped to it's feet, and charged the surprised soldiers. The soldiers bravely attempted to stop the monster, but even working in tandem, one high and one low, they still found all their attacks easily parried. The Hemophyte finally tired of playing with them, and suddenly slapped the soldiers' blades away with one set of arms, and decapitated one, while disemboweling the other with another set of arms.

"Stop, or I'll shoot!"

Hemophyte/Gau just laughed, and sidestepped the Tek Laser that lanced out from the suit of armor, and suddenly slammed a blade into the wooden floor. The sword flared, and a ripple of energy shot out at the Heavy Armor along the floor. With a loud booming noise the shockwave slammed into the suit, knocking it to the ground. As the pilot struggled to regain his feet, two more gleaming blades impaled him, *through* the suit. Hemophyte/Gau snapped the blades into a victory salute, then staggered as Gau struggled to regain control. <NO! DON'T SEND ME BACK! THERE'S STILL MORE FIGHTING...>

Gau took a deep breath as he finally banished the Rage back wherever it came from. Looking around, he realized that there were no signs of an alarm, or indeed any sign that anyone had noticed. <Hmm, this isn't right. I at least expected more guards from the engine room. Unless...> Suddenly comprehension dawned. Gau smiled, and his eyes started to flare once more...

"Remember, hold your fire until you're sure of what comes through that door. I do NOT want to have to explain to the captain why we toasted our own soldiers. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

The 5 MagiTek suited soldiers chorused this more or less in unison, and brought their weapons to bear on the door. Friend or foe, it was obvious that whatever came through the would be annihilated, regardless of what the Sergeant had said. Twitchy trigger fingers and an unknown foe tended to do that to a soldier. As they watched, the door flew open, and a hail of chromatic elemental death in the form of cobalt ice, alizarine fire, and argent lightning poured forth from the MagiTek suits, engulfing the figure that came through the door.

As the hapless figure was immersed in elemental fury, the soldiers cheered over the din, certain that they had finally stopped the mysterious intruder.

They were wrong.

As the jubilant soldiers plodded over to the remains of the unknown intruder, they noticed it was a little bigger than the reports had said.

"Gee, Sarge, looks kind of like... a heavy armor suit?"

The Sergeant started to open his mouth to shout at the troops to spread out, but just as the first word started to come out, it was quickly drowned out by the sound of a wall caving in. The Sergeant turned in time to see a huge white reptilian head snake through the gaping hole, followed by an equally large body, as Gau/White Dragon plowed through the wall. Bellowing an earsplitting challenge, the massive beast lunged for the closest figure, namely the hapless sergeant.

"Get it! Before it has a chance to... AAIIEEE!"

The Sergeant's last thought as the fanged maw closed around him was <How did a dragon get on the ship?>

The MagiTek soldiers gaped, then quickly tried to spread out, in vain, as the scaled horror lumbered towards them. A tail like a white tree trunk smashed into three suits, crushing the armor and the soldiers inside like eggs dropped off a cliff.

<Three down, two to go...> thought Gau, as he struggled to retain control. Something this powerful was a massive strain, now that he was utilizing the knowledge, not just the form, of the creatures he Raged as. Especially the more intelligent and malevolent ones, like this one, or the Retainer, and especially the Dark Force. <Now that is a rough one to use!>

The fourth MagiTek soldier had finally retreated far enough to try and bring his weapons to bear, or so he thought. Just as the weapon nozzle on his armor began to flare, Gau/White Dragon leapt forward, and landed on the suit with a massive taloned foot. Metal caved in, and energy from the suit's power core arced around the dragon's foot for a moment, then faded away. <Four down...>

As the massive creature spun around to locate the final suit of armor, a crimson bolt lashed out and trailed across Gau/White Dragon's rear right flank, burning deeply into the flickering form. The final soldier had finally drawn a bead on the monster, and was determined to at least try and keep it busy enough for reinforcements to arrive.

"RRAAAAAAARRHHH!" screamed the beast inside Gau's head, a scream of pain and anger that was echoed by Gau, and finally by the form surrounding him. <YOU, YOU.. HURT ME! GAU MAD!> Gau finally gave in to the Rage, and let the White Dragon decide what to do next.

As the soldier powered up for another strike, he realized with sudden clarity that it wouldn't do any good. In fact, he had been a fool for even trying anything except a full retreat. This sudden moment of clear thinking was brought about by the appearance of the dragon's head directly in front of the suit. As the massive jaws opened, a pinging sound indicated a full charge on the bolt beam. With renewed hope, the soldier desperately stabbed his finger at the switch, just as the dragon began to exhale...

There was a loud noise, as of space tearing apart, coupled with a flare of white light, followed by a sudden silence, punctuated only by the creaking of cooling metal.

The White Dragon sniffed at the slag that was all that remained of the last soldier's armor, and peered around for more enemies. Seeing that none remained, the dragon turned to deal with the matter of trashing what was left of the engine room. Already, a third of the room had been smashed, and what was left appeared to be losing power rapidly, as gears wound down, and lights began to flicker. <HMMPH. EASY ENOUGH...>

Captain Brazier staggered to his feet as another bellow echoed through the ship, punctuated by the hull shaking beneath him. As he yelled for someone to tell him what was going on, his newest lieutenant came flying into the bridge, screaming about a dragon loose below. In the engine room, of all places!

"A dragon? How in the hell did a DRAGON get on board this ship, without being noticed? I WANT AN ANSWER, DAMN YOU!"

Captain Brazier ended this last statement by grabbing a whip off the wall and smacking the hapless lieutenant with it, spraying blood and knocking him to the floor. As the lieutenant sputtered around the remains of his mouth, the enraged captain turned and began shouting more orders at the terrified helm crew.

"Send everything we've got to the engine room. I don't care what or who we have to sacrifice, I want it stopped! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

The crew nodded in blind terror, and one bright lad ran off to do as the captain asked. Captain Brazier sat back down, breathing heavily, and looked down at the lieutenant, still sputtering and moaning.

"SHUT UP! Or I'll give you something to REALLY cry about!"

<This has not been a good day>, the captain thought.

"Send a message to General Renshield, top priority. We have a... what? He's missing? The post was raided? I thought it was as well hidden as anything on the ground! In that case, send a message to Afkek's flagship, and tell them, well, tell them all hell is breaking loose. A monster is on the ship, and we can't seem to stop it."

<Well, there goes my chance for a fleet command anytime in the next century or so. Oh well.>

Meanwhile, soldiers suited up in the remaining MagiTek armor suits, and thundered towards the engine room, trampling unfortunate engineers who had had the good sense to flee when all hell broke loose. Coming around the corner, the lead soldiers came to a halt as they took in the BIG hole torn in the metal wall that shielded the engine room.

"Hang back, men. You two, take a look inside."

The two soldiers picked did not appear to be happy with the assignment, but nonetheless stepped forward and tramped into the engine room. To their surprise, there was a lone figure standing there, apparently taking in the size of the place and nursing a massive burn down one leg. <A teenager?> thought the lead soldier, one Corporal Vance by name. <I thought they said t'was a dragon. Did the boy do this?>

"You there! Turn around slowly, and keep your hands out where we can see them. If you attempt anything, we will burn you where you stand. Just who..."

Corporal Vance stared, as the teenager leapt over a pile of wrecked machinery, faster than he would have believed possible. <How'd he do that?> Then the air was filled with a hissing sound, as his partner belatedly fired at the spot formerly occupied by the intruder. Corporal Vance looked over at the private, who was now grinning sheepishly.

"Idiot. Why they ever recruited anyone from Zozo is beyond me."

Stepping back cautiously, the corporal shouted at the troops outside to enter, but carefully, as the intruder was still loose."

The Sergeant in charge looked around, as the corporal described the intruder. He frowned, and ordered the troops to spread out and search for the mysterious teenager.

"A boy, you say?"

"Yessir, roughly 17 or so, right healthy lad if you ask me."

"I didn't. And he moved faster than you could react?"

"Yessir. Like a cat, sir."

"Now, you wouldn't be lying to me, would you? I heard someone firing. Maybe you just MISSED, and didn't want me to find out what a lousy shot you were? Hmmm?"

"No sir! T'was the private over there who had a twitchy finger." This last remark was punctuated by a pointed finger at the private in question, still grinning sheepishly. As the sergeant opened his mouth to berate the unfortunate private, a sudden clicking noise, as of metal on metal filled the air. As all heads, and weapon turrets, spun to face the direction of the sound, easily heard over the whir of machinery and the clanking of MagiTek armor, a mechanical form clanked into view. Fifteen feet long, on six metal legs, with a long blunt snout and bristling with weaponry, it paused and regarded the troops with mechanical calm.

"An Io? But we weren't assigned any mechs, and Io's are for major installations only! What is one doing here?"

As the sergeant, and everyone else stared, two things became evident. One, the Io flickered, almost as if it were a mirage. Two, even while the form was solid, the shadow cast was not. Before their astonished eyes, it flickered between that of the Io, and a human shape, poised and mimicking the stance of the Io!

"Illusion! Open fire!" shouted the sergeant. <Now we have him!> he thought with jubilation.

Gau/Io noted the words, his now-silicon thoughts racing. [1000101111001...] [THREAT RESPONSE: WORKING...] [MULTIPLE TARGETS, SELECT APPROPRIATE OFFENSE...] [ATTACK MODE ALPHA, COLLOQUIAL REFERENCE: "BLASTER", INSUFFICIENT...] [1001100110001010...]

As weapon ports flared with elemental energies, the Io rage sorted through possible attack modes, discarding attack after attack, until at last it came to the one it was looking for.

[110011...] [ATTACK MODE OMEGA, COLLOQUIAL REFERENCE: "FLARE STAR"] [INIT GENERATORS...] [POWERING UP...] [ENGAGE...]

As fingers closed on triggers that would never fire, the Io flared, and fiery death streamed out from it, a deafening concussion following behind the globe of plasma that engulfed the unfortunate troopers. Almost as if hungry for more life to feed it, the Flare Star expanded even more, vaporizing the remnants of the engine room machinery and tore at the metal walls. While unable to melt the walls leading to the rest of the ship, the outer hull proved not to be nearly so durable, exploding outward.

Down in Jidoor, as the battle raged on, a low rumbling sound filled the air, and as troops and townspeople looked up, an airship slowly shimmered into appearance. The vast ship appeared to shudder, as a section on the rear glowed, then exploded, raining slag upon the Imperial troops below. Then, with an almost graceful lurch, the N.I.A. Fury began to fall.

Captain Brazier's eyes widened in terror as the ship lurched, and a sickening feeling of free fall came over him. A quick look at the skyline verified that they were indeed headed on collision course with that big hard object called the ground. Closing his eyes, he awaited the impact, and tried to think happy thoughts, as the crew around him began to panic.

Gau stood up as the Io Rage faded away, and then fell down again as the once-mighty ship began to fall. <Got to get off! What Gau use?> Deciding to at least get to the new exit on the side of the ship, Gau jumped to his feet again and ran for the massive hole punched in the outer bulkhead. Leaping into the air, Gau summoned the first rage he could think of, and the familiar form of an Aquila shimmered around him. <Made it! Now find others to finish battle...>

This last thought was never completed. Behind him, just as Gau made it through the hole, a last piece of machinery exploded, sending chunks of debris everywhere. One fragment shot through the air with uncanny precision to clip Gau in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious, and completing his path out of the ship. As he plummeted earthward, the Rage flickered and warped, changing forms, until at last a Behemoth struck the ground, making a nice new crater just outside the city proper. Seconds after impact, the Rage vanished, leaving a broken and battered Gau, barely alive.

<I... hurt. Why Dee not here to make it better?> Gau opened his eyes, and tried to stand up. At just that moment, the N.I.A Fury plowed into the ground scarcely one hundred feet from him with a deafening noise, the impact and concussion knocking Gau down once again. A wave of darkness overtook him, and he knew no more.

Setzer had sequestered himself in his quarters once the airship had flown to relative safety. Merine wasn't even sure if the ship's hull would hold in its seemingly endless flight toward Jidoor. She wasn't even used to the idea that she was Banon's successor yet. In fact, the only thing she was really sure of was that something was wrong with Setzer. Something seriously wrong.

*******************************************

Inside the captain's cabin, Setzer sat dumbly in his hammock, a glass of fine Nikean brandy clenched tightly between his fingers. Silence filled the cabin.

For any who had an eye for pattern and art, there was a single piece of ornamentation missing from the room. The atmosphere of the room had been carefully crafted to subtly bring attention to a picture that hung on the wall. A picture which now was missing.

Setzer's gaze drew inexorably to the port window he had scattered the torn remnants of Daryl's portrait from. Another drink of the brandy. 'Hmm.' The room had stopped weaving back and forth. 'I must be drunk.' Setzer smiled humorlessly. The brandy had merely caused him greater introspection. Not something he wanted right now.

Setzer's eyes slowly closed and he soon slept.

****************************************

The air surrounded him. No longer requiring the airship to fly, Setzer flitted back and forth, revelling in his greatest fantasy - to fly without wings.

Daryl flew by, laughing gleefully as she shared in his pleasure, in his passion. Nothing could stop them, for they were forever free. The white, fluffy clouds flew by them, looking for all the world as if they had become another land, high above the earth most mortals dwelled.

Suddenly, a searing pain overwhelmed him, originating from his shoulderblades and coursing over his body and soul; the whole of his being. Eyes flaring with anguish, he looked one last time to the skies from which he plummeted, only to see Daryl's laughing, mocking face as she brandished the blood covered blade she held toward him.

Further and further he fell, falling from that which he had sought his whole life. And he knew that once he landed...he would never again attain the heights he had just fallen from.

His wings were clipped.

***********************************

Setzer awoke, body bathed in a cold, shivering sweat. He looked at the mirror, watching the aging gambler who stared back at him with a look of frank terror.

And then he wept.

***********************************

Setzer's airship had seemed empty after transporting all his friends to Doma to find Valron. Now all that remained were himself, Merine, and Valron.

He had roamed the airship for almost an hour, slowly realizing that he missed the constant bickering between Kary and Tiamat, the silent, omnipresent Lich. Even Xyo, regardless of whether she thought he had turned traitor or not.

And Garland. There, Setzer's feelings were mixed. Though he had initially joined the irritating man in his seemingly endless journey to rediscover his 'orbs', his loyalty to Setzer seemed unswervingly misplaced.

There was no reason for Garland to attach himself so fervently to Setzer...except for that small fact that Setzer had the only airship in existence. Setzer walked toward the bow, musing this little segment of misguided revelation.

Soon, he would learn how wrong he was.

***********************************

Slamming the telescopic device shut with a curse, Setzer leaned back from the edge of the ship. He frowned, displeased with the billowing clouds of smoke emanating from Jidoor. This did not bode well.

Even from the height Setzer flew at, the sounds of metal clashing upon metal and the screams of the dying and wounded wafted up to the airship, sending Merine's face pale with horror. She had never seen war, not of this magnitude.

Neither had Setzer.

An airship could do nothing to aid the battles. Uncharacteristically vulnerable, it could be crippled with a single crossbow bolt to the balloon, if applied properly. Setzer wracked his mind for ideas, but came up empty. The only thing he and Merine could do at the moment was to wait. And hope.

And then Setzer saw an airship uncloak, burning in a furious frenzy as parts of it exploded, crashing to the ground.

"Of course!" That's how they were able to attack Jidoor so easily, without alerting the defenders to set up barricades. Somehow, Afkek had managed to cast some sort of invisibility spell on his airships and everything in them. No matter how he had done it, Setzer finally saw how he could contribute to this battle. Now all he had to do was....

There! Now that he knew what to look for, the soldiers shimmying up and down invisible ropes were obvious from this vantage. And if that were so, then the airship should be just...there!

His plan was simple. Ram the balloon of the airship. A target that big would be difficult to miss, even invisible. Unfortunatly, there was a bit of a problem with his plan. The hull of the ship was an awfully large object. And Setzer wasn't entirely certain his ship would survive a collision of that magnitude. Oh well, when in doubt...

Heads! And so the airship accelerated, the wind rising in volume until it screamed like a tormented banshee.

************************************

The cacaphonous CRACK of an airship's hull demolishing an abandoned hut resounded throughout the city. Setzer crowed in triumph, raising a fist up in the air in ecstacy. For just a brief moment, he allowed himself to forget the fact that he couldn't steer.

Merine was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she was wise and was taking cover. Setzer didn't have a prayer of getting in crash position, so he simply had to enjoy the ride while he could. It might be the last time he had a chance.

***********************************

The final resting place: Main street, leaving a trail of crushed Imperial and Returner bodies behind it. Setzer blearily reminded himself not to ram another airship ever again before he reluctantly lost consciousness.

and tense with a strange expectation. He sat at his private desk in his own quarters staring blankly at the arcane designs scrawled on deteriorating Eucalyptus pulp. Hard at thought, he absently fingered the small healing stone embedded in his chest, it had been with him ever since he obtained the Arch druid's mantle over a century ago. He smiled as the thought of Gaia's pride in her star student flooded through him. It had been a long time since he was a young man dancing in her grove.. oh the times...

He blinked himself out of his daydream and turned his attention toward the parchments again. The talismans, they needed to resurface. He studied the instructions, the language was all but forgotten. They need to be translated, very few had the lore of this speech. He picked up his pen and shook his head as he began to write.

A hand rested lightly on his shoulder, startling him. He looked up to see the beloved Gaia smiling at him. **Leave it be.** her words echoed in his mind, **There is one of our cause who knows it, it is not meant for common knowledge.**

Bannon said nothing for a moment and laid the pen down, "What do you wish me to do?"

Gaia looked up stiffly, he moves echoed by the constant russell of leaves.. or was that the dancing of water? She closed her eyes as if concentrating on something.

**They are comming.** She sent to him urgently.

"Who?"

Gaia's mouth twisted into a slight frown **I cannot see their faces, Male and Female, armies tearing upon my skin. Piercing the air.. My breath is choked.. they come.. the come for you!** Her face fell with fear and her mental echo cave a wailing cry.

Bannon stood up in shock and held is chin in his hand, "So, Valron has failed. I feared as much and my main force is away looking for him. I must ready what I can, we still have the military might of Figaro on our side. I must make preparations, but we must be quiet, or the town will panic and it will be pandemonium!"

Gaia began to fade, **I feel it.. I feel the element...Why? Why has he gone to their side?**

"What? who?" Bannon asked feeling his dread rise even higher.

**Ready yourself.. I can stay no longer!** She faded out with a choking cry.

"WHO??!" Bannon cried to the empty air.

He whirled around, frustrated and grabbed his walking stick and hobbled out of the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

Garnan awoke at his post as he was shaken awake by his leader, Bannon. He immediately snapped to attention, an embarrassed look on his face.

Bannon didn't even care to notice "There is only a few hours to dawn and we are facing an attack, I want you to gather your best runners and send word to the figarrian troops. And do it QUIETLY. If Akfek gets any idea that we know he will attack sooner and we need what time we have to get ready. Send for the council heads.. We are to have a meeting now. And send the fastest pigeon to shattered island. If Scarecrow is there, he knows I will pay him well. I wan NO alarm sounded in the town! We have very little time and we are about to face our greatest challenge yet!"

Garnan absorbed the information with dawning horror, he took off down the corridor waking up every solider as he went. Also telling them to keep their fears silent and to prepare.

And so silently the word spread and fear grew like a virus through the silent soliders.

* * * * * * * * * *

Bannon sat in somber thought as the council gathered together, each of the members found their sleep shaking off as they talked in hushed feared tones with each other. As all of ther members took ther seat, the place became hushed as all eyes turned hopefully at Bannon. Suddenly, Bannon felt very old. He looked sternly at each of the council members, even the oldest one there was half his age. Grunting, he straitened his back to appear taller and cleared his throat.

"As you all now know, we are most likely facing an attack within the next two hours."

A low murmur rippled though the room, and Bannon arched a smooth eyebrow hushing the room again. He swallowed and continued, " I don't know how this will turn out, we barely had any warning, but I want all the entrances of this hideout set with explosives, if it comes to that I want this place sealed. I will not allow this home to be overridden by a spawn of evil!" He slammed his fist painfully on the stone table to emphasize his statement.

"How will we get out ourselves?" General Mirkat intoned.

"We have the lower tunnels that run all the way to Narshe if must be. But the Jiddor tunnels will be sealed. And I want you, Fen, to take my documents into the tunnels to a place I will specify later. No one else will know where he goes but I."

"I also want all those who wish to stay behind in Jiddor Do so at the beginning of the attack, all who are going to work in the relocation will consult with me.. I will stay behind though. Someone else will come and lead you, it is time for me to go a different path, this will be my last stand with you for a very long time."

The room erupted.

"What? you can't leave us Bannon!"

"What will we do? No one else can lead us? Everyone looks to you!"

"Enough!" Bannon snapped, " I am old, I am tired, and I have been summoned by Gaia herself to walk on her own direction. I MUST go, I have confidence in my replacement."

Bannon calmed himself down for a moment. "I have sent word to the Figaran armies, They stand ready, and I have no qualms fighting by their side . most have no loyalty to the late Edgar's regime anymore. I also am praying for a miracle that Setzer will return in time. We need the strength of air power right now right now the only defense we have is the old Empire's

Magitek armors. Have they been readied?"

"Almost we are working on them. That Sprite got into the armory and damaged one of the armors.. it should be nearly repaired."

Bannon nodded.. "Prepare for a ground assault.. Remain hidden till you hear their battle cry. They are hear to surprise us.. I intend for us to surprise them.."

* * * * * * * * * *

As the sun began to peek it's blood stained rays over the horizon. Bannon gritted his teeth as he began to hear the cries of the outlying armies. He turned to his own men as he saw the scourge stream across the pain towards the city and the archers reveal their bows on the rooftops.

"Now!" Bannon screamed,"Go! Go! Go!"

On que the trapdoors flew open the torches flared and the returners rose to meet the oncoming horde in an answering cry....

Bannon hurried down into the caves to finalize the move.. and to check the explosives. He smiled in satisfaction, each one will set 2 tons of rock covering all the Jiddor entrances to the tunnel system. He went over in his mind the instruction he is supposed to give Merine and then took one last look around at the beloved home. Sighing he turned back up to the surface.. hearing the silent ticking of the explosives beginning to count down.

* * * * * * * * * *

He emerged into the din of the battle.. he kept to the side walls and he headed towards the outside of the city, he looked to the air and squinted in puzzlement where was the air strike that Gaia spoke of? Could she have been wrong? He shrugged as he began to use his long stagnant healing powers on the wounded.. The People of the city were panicked but not many ran.. many of the commoners had picked up whatever they could use to fight. He had a feeling this would be a long battle... A long one indeed...

"Maybe I've outlived my usefulness," Banon mumbled to himself. "Maybe it's just time for me to..."

"I'll say, old man!" shouted a voice from behind him. "You probably can't even remember where you put your dentures every morning!"

Banon whirled to face the black-shrouded figure. "Probably because you assassinated them, scum! At least they would be SOMEthing you could defeat!"

They glared at each other angrily for a moment, before Scarecrow extended a hand. Banon clasped it, grinning. "How did you get here so fast?" Banon asked. "I only sent the pigeon half an hour ago!"

"My... sources... informed me that the attack was coming. I figured we could make some sort of deal."

"The first good news I've heard all day. So... does half a million GP sound adequate?"

"Actually, I'm interested in something else, this time. I need a favor from Setzer. There's something I'd like to have him build..."

"An airship, maybe?" Banon pursed his lips. "Sorry, but Setzer's not..."

"I know. He's not here. But I'm sure that he would be willing to do it if you asked him... and when he finds out what part I will play in this skirmish."

Banon shook his head. "I suppose I'll ask him... what are you planning today, anyway?"

"I have an idea to get some of the women and children..." Scarecrow trailed off, looking up into the sky.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure... it just feels like there's something up there."

"Well, there was a dragon up there a while ago... it just dissappeared, though."

"Odd..." Scarecrow shook his head. "I'll have to figure it out sometime. Until then, I have a plan... but I'll need twenty of your best men, suited up with Magitek Armor."

Banon looked at Scarecrow quizzically. "Oh," Scarecrow continued, "and I'll need them to be volunteers. I don't want anyone with me who doesn't want to be. And they have to know that their chances of survival are minimal."

"None of my men are in this because they want to stay alive. You should know that, Scarecrow."

"Yeah, yeah... So, anyway, is there some chance you could call a quick meeting of a few of your men? I'll also need some of your normal soldiers to round up all the citizens of Jidoor who haven't been able to get out through the tunnels. And if any of your men are interested in hitting enemy forces from behind, they can get out too."

"What are you planning?"

"Just a little breach in what Sascha and Akfek thought was 'surrounding' us..."

**********************

Scarecrow smiled as he looked down on the battle from his vantage point high in the air. His forces were even now getting into position. Just a few more seconds...

Scarecrow whooped as he skyrocketed down toward the ranks of archers and Magitek soldiers. Raising his autocrossbow to eye level, he let out a stream of arrows.

Many died before they even got the chance to look up. Those who did look up died as he swooped into them, sword swinging wildly. As the remainder struggled to bring their weapons to bear against him, he pulled back, hard, sending the chocobo up again.

Archers aimed weapons toward his retreating figure, intent on finishing this menace...

And then Scarecrow's small band of Magitek warriors sprung from nearby buildings. The Imperials, who only moments before had been intent on stopping any attack from that direction, were now concentrating on Scarecrow. Scarecrow's band of twenty slashed into their opposition, overrunning them in no time flat.

Scarecrow smiled in satisfaction. There was now a gap in the Imperial ranks, enough to get the women and children out of Jidoor. As his small band of warriors--the Knives, they had chosen to call themselves--split in groups to defend the gap, he alighted on a rooftop.

"Die, Returner scum!" shouted a voice from behind him. A single Magitek warrior suddenly appeared on the roof, cutting loose with a spray of needles as he did so.

Scarecrow dove to the side, though some of the needles connected with the armor he wore under his cloak. Only a few of them actually pierced his armor, but it was enough to worry about. His chocobo took the brunt of the attack, and dropped to the ground seriously wounded.

Scarecrow raised his autocrossbow, letting fly a flurry of arrows. The arrows merely bounced off the Magitek's armor plating.

Scarecrow could see the soldier inside the suit smile. The soldier sent another wave of needles hurtling toward him. This time Scarecrow dropped to the ground. The needles whizzed by over his head.

"Damn!" Scarecrow shouted. The Knives were all busy keeping the gap open, and not one of them had even noticed his plight. Meanwhile, the Magitek soldier raised his needlegun again, still smiling.

"You're finished, dog!" As the soldier foolishly took time to speak, Scarecrow hurled two knives. One went off target, but the other sunk into the barrel of the needlegun.

The enemy soldier, oblivious to the fact that there was a knife in his gun, opened fire. Nothing could have been more damaging to the gun. It exploded in a shower of sparks.

The soldier swore. Scarecrow drew two swords. The soldier raised up one of the suit's arms, and a blade slid out of it, black as darkest night.

"You'll need more than magic swords to defeat me, boy," Scarecrow shouted.

"I have more, scum!" The soldier leveled his darkblade toward Scarecrow, as if daring him to try something.

Scarecrow began to slowly circle his opponent, despite the lack of space on the rooftop. "Good... Well, boy, I like to know the names of those who I kill. What is it?"

The Imperial's eyes narrowed. "Rasmaine! Remember it on your way to hell, dog!"

Scarecrow cocked his head one direction. "That's an interesting name. Rasmaine. Perhaps I will..."

In mid-sentence Scarecrow leaped, hoping to catch Rasmaine off guard. Blades whirling, he came down hard against the Magitek armor. Twin swords cut deep into the heavy steel plating. But not deep enough.

Scarecrow hopped backwards, barely escaping Rasmaine's black blade. Then Scarecrow moved in again, scoring a minor wound with his weapons. As Rasmaine swung his sword down again, Scarecrow raised both blades to block.

"Rust!" shouted Rasmaine. Scarecrow's blades suddenly fell to pieces in a light shower of red flakes. Rasmaine's dark sword slammed down unimpeded.

The blade slashed through Scarecrow's armor, cutting deep. Scarecrow dropped to the ground, presumably dead. Any normal man would be.

The imperial soldier sneered. "What a waste." He raised the sword again, preparing to make sure Scarecrow was indeed dead.

The blow never landed.

Scarecrow's foot swung up, hard enough for Rasmaine to feel the blow even inside the armored suit. Before Rasmaine could make a counterstrike, Scarecrow rolled back out of the way.

He was bleeding badly, but Scarecrow managed to stand. He drew a sword... and found that it, too, had rusted apart.

Rasmaine smiled. "You were a decent opponent after all, scum. Too bad..."

Rasmaine charged. Scarecrow readied the one weapon he knew would not rust: the Guardian sword.

The blade swung out, glowing white with power. It crashed against Rasmaine's black blade, filling the air with a howling shriek.

And then the Guardian blade cut Rasmaine's sword in half. The top of the weapon dropped to the ground. With two quick strokes, Scarecrow disabled the Magitek suit Rasmaine was driving.

While Rasmaine struggled, attempting to get his suit to function, Scarecrow grabbed him and lifted him out of the Magitek.

For the first time since the battle began, a trace of fear shone in Rasmaine's eyes. He had no weapons. No escape. No hope.

Still bleeding profusely, Scarecrow carried Rasmaine to the edge of the roof, and swung him over the edge, holding him only by the collar of his spotless uniform.

"NOW, punk!" Scarecrow started. "Talk! I want to know how you can show up out of nowhere, and I want to know NOW. Believe me, I can tell when a man is lying, and that could be VERY painful for you. Answer me truthfully, and I might let you keep SOME of your limbs."

And then the screaming began...

Scarecrow smiled faintly at the thought, then his face turned grim. Slowly, inexorably, the Returners were being beaten back. They were outnumbered and outgunned. The suits of Magitek armor Scarecrow had managed to supply Banon and his followers with simply weren't enough. Returner casualties were much higher than those of the Empire.

Scarecrow nodded. It was high time to end this battle... the assassin way. After some convincing, the soldier Rasmaine had told Scarecrow of General Renshield, the Empire's commander for this battle. Finish him, and the Empire's efforts would soon crumble.

Scarecrow grimaced as he completed his fly-by survey of the building Renshield was holed up in. Whatever else Renshield might be, he was no fool. The building, which Scarecrow assumed was a temporary command center for this battle, was well fortified. Sentries all over. There was only one good method for breaking into a place like this: distraction.

*****************

On a hilltop overlooking Jidoor, a balding man smiled. The battle of Jidoor was going nicely, with the Returners still likely to lose. That in itself did not matter. However, several of those fighting on the side of the Returners were... annoyances to his mighty master. It would be well if those annoyances were removed.

Banon. Scarecrow. Lukahn. Others. The crows and rats of Jidoor had told him of the precense of those foolish mortals. The very thought of them brought a sneer to his lips. They would all pay dearly for their crimes against his master. Someday, they would all pay.

*And perhaps,* the old man thought as he looked around, *Perhaps that day has come.* Near him were nine young dogs, tails wagging in the morning sun. None of them looked like much... unless you happened to glance at their eyes. The eyes were bereft of life... no, worse, they were filled with oblivion, seeming to draw out a portion of the soul of any who happened to stare into them. They were the Chaos Hounds.

The old man cackled with glee. "Go, my pets! Go, and destroy all that you can!" The Hounds snapped out of their lazy posture, shifting to a battle ready stance in the blink of an eye. With a simoultaneous howl, the Hounds charged forward.

*****************

General Renshield dutifully studied the papers before him. Maps. Maps of Jidoor, covered with dots and lines to show troop movements and casualties. The maps clearly showed that the Returners were losing ground rapidly, being driven back towards their base. The fighting would soon be inside their base, rather than outside. And yet...

Reports kept coming in about a band of no more than twenty wreaking havoc on imperial lines. They seemed to be everywhere, hitting the Empire where they were most vulnerable. Despite Renshield's best efforts, his soldiers were unable to pin down the group. The moment reinforcements arrived, the small band would vanish into the city. It was infuriating.

Renshield swept the maps from his desk in frustration. The worst part was his inability to aid in the conflict. He was by far the greatest swordfighter the Empire had in this fight, and yet he was cooped up in here. The Empire wanted him to be careful... to take no chances. But where was the honor in hiding behind walls while you sent your men to battle?

Renshield fingered his sword. *If only I had a shot at Banon,* he thought, *or perhaps the black-cloaked leader of that little band that's giving us so much trouble. I would show them the meaning of honor!* Renshield's blade snapped out of it's sheath, cleaving through a wall of his private room.

In midstroke, Renshield heard a creak from behind him. He kept the blade up, swinging it around until it rested at the throat of...

Jed, one of his officers. Jed's face was frozen in fright. "Uh... sir? I, uh, well..."

"Yes?" Renshield asked as he slid his sword back into it's scabbard. "I don't have all day, Lieutenant."

"Well... we have a problem. You know that small group that's been all over our lines, they, they're..." Renshield cut him off.

"Spit it out, man!"

"They're here."

Renshield blinked. "Here?! How in hell did they find..." As he spoke, he heard the faintest of noises coming from behind him. Not a moment too soon, Renshield ducked forward, throwing his hands up to grasp the gloved hand that had very nearly ended his life. With a sharp tug, he used his assailant's own momentum to carry him forward and over Renshield's head.

Before the assassin could move, Renshield's blade was at his throat.

"Back-stabbing worm! You have no honor!"

Scarecrow's green eyes were blank, betraying no emotion. "It is you who is without honor. You are Doman, correct? The same Empire you fight for is the one that mercilessly poisoned all the people of Doma. At least when you backstab someone you give them the chance to spot you."

Renshield cocked his head in surprise. An assassin with a sense of honor? He paused, considering the cloaked man's words.

"That was done by one man. His actions do NOT represent..."

"Your Empire gave him a full pardon. And no matter what the rulers are, your Empire hasn't changed. They want nothing but power!"

"Wrong, assassin! The Empire and I want to create order out of this world of chaos! So that..."

"Order, is it? Would you sacrifice justice and mercy for law, then? Is it worth so much that you would force men to live in fear for your Empire?" Scarecrow's tone was harsh and cold, and Renshield could swear he saw a sneer underneath the assassin's mask.

Renshield paused for a long moment. His sword dropped to his side, forgotten. This man talked sense. Perhaps... could Renshield have been wrong all these years?

Lieutenant Jed was appaled. "He's just trying to trick you into betraying the Empire! What are you doing, General?!?"

Before Renshield could respond, the door of the room crashed open. A spotted gray dog was standing in the doorway, yellow teeth bared. It growled, then pounced, moving with a speed beyond anything Renshield had ever seen. Jed collapsed to the ground as the hound bit hard into his throat.

The hound came for Renshield next. Renshield moved his sword to intercept it, but the expected leap never came. The dog stopped just out of sword reach. Renshield cocked his head, puzzled.

And the wave of emotions rolled over him, threatening to crush him. Fear, anger, and hate combined against the Returners, especially the one assassin standing next to him. The Returners killed just as much as the Empire! Why else would they send an assassin? They would pay for trying to trick him with their foolish lies! All of them would pay!

In rage, Renshield lashed out against the assassin, who was trying without luck to attack the fiendishly fast Chaos Hound. Scarecrow only barely managed to parry Renshield's blow.

Scarecrow backed off, now forced to fight two opponents at once. Renshield sneered in triumph. The Returner scum couldn't last much longer. Ha!

<Remove!> General Renshield blinked, unsure of what spell the assassin could be casting. And then the world faded...

************

Scarecrow leaned on his sword, nearly collapsing to the ground. That spell... where could he have learned it? Whatever it was, it sure drained a lot of energy from him. He wasn't sure he could defeat the hound at this point, even with Renshield having vanished.

Oddly, though, now that Renshield was gone, the gray dog seemed to have no interest in continuing the fight. It stared at Scarecrow, lips curled back in an almost human grin.

"What... what are you?"

Scarecrow was only mildly surprised when the hound responded. "I am Pain. I am all there is to life, all there will ever be."

"There is more to life than pain." The words sounded hollow in Scarecrow's mouth. He wasn't sure whether he believed what he said.

"You are a fool if you truly think so. Look back on your life... what is there that is not pain? Why should life be worth living?"

Memories flashed in Scarecrow's mind. His mother's death, the loss of his father, the death of his dreams... so much sorrow. Perhaps the dog was right.

"You know I speak the truth, Scarecrow. Humans only fool themselves into believing that life is not pain, because they are afraid of death. You are not afraid of death, Scarecrow. There is only one way to escape Pain."

The words echoed through Scarecrow's mind. Only one way to escape pain. Scarecrow stared down at the knife he had in his hand. It would be so easy to escape...

Scarecrow looked up, and the hound seemed to fill the room. "I am everywhere, I am everything. I am Pain!"

Only one way to escape... Scarecrow looked down again at his knife, and slowly raised it to his throat. One way.

And then Scarecrow remembered... there was still one way to accomplish his dreams, one way to get what he wanted out of life. One way that might lead out of pain.

"No!" Scarecrow shouted, and the magic that had almost succeded in destroying him crumbled. Pain only laughed.

"This has been an interesting game, Scarecrow... but I have other things to do. Try to be content with this small victory... because I am eternal. I will always be there, Scarecrow. Someday, I will win."

With that, the hound trotted off to find other, easier, prey. Scarecrow sunk to the ground, drained.

*It will never be over...* the voice of Pain echoed through Scarecrow's mind, over and over again.

"That's it?" Natasha asked

"I guess so," Rooks frowned, "I expected him to at least put up a small fight."

"No matter," Natasha smirked, "He is gone, and now I can finally find out about my mother, and the truth of my existance."

"Correct," Rooks smiled, "You've come a long way, Natasha, I'm very impressed."

"Thank you, Rooks," Natasha answered, "You have really helped me."

This victory over the vile Enygma was short lived, for the ground began to shake, and screams and voices began to loudly enter the ears.

"What the hell is that?" Natasha sprung suddenly.

"Oh, no, I feared this," Rooks grabbed his stick, "Its the Empire!"

"Empire?" Natasha asked, "You mean the one that..."

"Yes, yes," Rooks looked at her funny, "Know of any other Empires around here? We must go into combat."

"But Rooks, you are in no condition," Natasha said.

"Pah, quiet," Rooks interepted, "If I die, there will not be a big deal, my days are numbered now anyway, atleast I'll go down in a fight, and I might even take a few of them with me!"

Natasha and Rooks exited the house. The sight was horrifiying. Imperial troops running rampant, destroying everything they could. There were some battles taking place, with dead Imperial troops, but Natasha did not have the time to look at who was fighting. She drew her sword and headed into combat. Rooks was right behind her.

A small group, about 3 or 4, of troops caught glipse of Natasha had headed to attack.

"Well, well, I don't know wether to skewer her, or fall in love," one of the troops laughed.

"Quiet," the commander demanded, "They are to be apprehended, if you can, save the girl for some, uh, 'questioning'"

"Gladly, sir," the troopers laughed.

Natasha drew her sword and took a battle-like stance. The troops headed for the assult. The first trooper found Natasha'a foot in his face, knocking him back about 5 paces. The second one found the end of her sword sicking through him. The third stood back, and stared in amazement at the quickness of the girl.

"You, you....WHO ARE YOU!?" the trooper yelled.

"I am Natasha Gestahl," Natasha smirked, "And your worst nightmare...."

"Gestahl?!" the Trooper looked stunned, "No! You, you can't be!"

Before anymore words could be said, Natasha used her sword to quickly take his head off.

"Ha ha!" the voice of the commander was heard behind her, "Good rest to you Old Man!"

Natasha spun quickly to see a split cane with Rooks laying on his back, bleeded from the gut, barely alive.

"You bastard!" Natasha screamed, "How dare you attack a defenseless old man?!"

"Ah, I see you handeled my men pretty well...impressive," the commander's eyes glew a bright green, "But Miss Gestahl, I am afraid you will never take the crown of the Empire."

"How do you know my name?" Natasha asked.

"I know many things.." the commander snickered.

They started to duel. Natasha noticed that his swordsmanship was not very impressed, but his quickness was, like he knew what she would do next. Those eyes rang in her head like an alarm, she had seen them before, and recently.

"ENYGMA!" Natasha yelled.

"Impressed," Enygma laughed, "You are very intelligent for a human. I'm afraid our little game will have to be carried out at another time, my dear. Now that you've exposed me, these troops will slay me as they will try to slay you. Good luck, Empress-to-be Natasha, you will need it here!"

Enygma laughed as his body changed before her. In fact, all the people, including the troops, seem to watch in amazement as Enygma changed into a dragon, and fly off. The fighting resumed. Natasha continued to fight and slay as many troops as she could, slowing draging Rooks to the house. If he was to live, this was not the place for him to be.

She opened the door, dragging him in, and slamming it shut behind her.

Then, taking a sword from a slain trooper, she stabbed it through the door, to make it appear that the people in this house were already captured or dead.

"Rooks, are you gonna be OK?" Natasha asked.

"I don't think so," Rooks coughed, "That bastard ran me through pretty good."

"What am I going to do without your guidence?" Natasha got a tear in her eye.

"You will find another guide, my dear," Rooks smiled, "You are still young and many adventures lie ahead for you. Beware, Natasha, Enygma is much more powerful than he leads on. He is not human, he is a demon, and very clever. He will haunt you until you run him through. He works for a greater evil, I can sense this."

"Yes, I understand," Natasha's tears kept comming.

"You must also keep your identity as secret as you can, until the time is right," Rooks continued, "Not many will think highly of you if they know that you are the offspring of Gestahl. Enygma will try to expose you, if he already hasn't. Many may think you are just as dangerous as the Empire is now. Take caution."

"Yes, Rooks," Natasha now began to cry.

"Keep faith, my dead," Rooks coughed, "You have a bright future...."

With those words, Rooks stopped breathing. Natasha was overcome with feelings, of hatred and sadness. Wiping the tears from her eyes, a serious look appeared on her face. She would find Enygma and make him pay for this outrage. She looked in her pouch at the magicite of the goddesses, her identity would have to wait. Innocent people cannot die here. Rooks, was a kind and gentle man, she would kill every trooper in the Imperial Army if she had to find Enygma. Of course, he's probablly long gone. She drew her sword and stormed out of the house. Her bloodshed of revenge began. She tore into anything with an Imperial crest, like a house of fire, not only killing them, but brutally doing it. Bloodshed was great, but not as great as the rage that had built up in Natasha. Her sword dripped with blood and her once black armor had spots of stained red. For the first time, she let her feelings take control of her actions, and many heads rolled. Blood dripped from her body like sweat.

She came upon a familiar place to her. Her foster parents home. Voices came from inside. Something was wrong inside. This is where her inner feelings stopped. Should she save them? After all, they did take her in. However, after years of being beaten and mistreated, they deserve what they are getting. No, the Karns are innocent, just as Rooks was. They must be saved, no matter the wrongs they have done. She stormed into the house, destroying any person with the armor of an Imperial trooper. She found her her foster parents, with their son, Paul, in the back room. They had furniture pushed up against the door, preventing the troops from comming in.

"Open up," Natasha yelled.

"Not for the Empire," Paul yelled back.

"Paul, I'm not of the Empire," Natasha replied.

"That voice, you sound familiar," Paul quickly jumped in.

"Its because I'm your foster sister, you jackass," Natasha yelled, "Now open up or I'll do to you what I did to these troopers."

"Natasha!?" Paul asked, "Sure, we'll be right out."

The door quietly and slowly creeked open. An eye came out first, then after seeing it WAS Natasha, they came out.

"Thank you," her foster mother said, "You saved us, Natasha."

"I know," Natasha frowned, "I thought even you guys didn't deserve to die in this battle."

"Natasha," her foster father spoke up, "How did you learn to fight like that?"

"I learned as you were beating me up back when I was a child," she snickered, "I don't know wether to thank you or kill you."

"Natasha!" Paul answered, "Lighten up, people change."

"For you sake," Natasha chuckled louder, "I hope you have."

"How can I repay you for this act or heroism, my dear," her foster father asked.

"Well, some shelter for the night or so would be nice, along with some new armor," Natasha answered, "This armor is soaked."

"Done, as soon as the fighting as stopped, and if we all survive," her answered back.

"I do have good news for you," Natasha smiled, "I will find out who my parents really are, as soon as this assult stops."

About this time, more Imperal troops entered, and Natasha began to once again fight gallently to save the people who took her in as a child...

"Surrender!" one of the Imperial Troops yelled to her.

"I accept your surrender," Natasha chuckled, drawing her silver sword next to her black sword.

"That's not what I mean," the trooper said, "You will surrender, or you will be killed."

"Don't count your chocobos before they hatch," Natasha smirked.

A commander came from the group, "I'm sure the the Empire will have some interesting uses for you, my dear."

"Really?" Natasha laughed, "Or will have an interesting use for you?"

Natasha siezed the moment. She caught the commander off guard. Jamming both swords into his chest, she lifted him off his feet into the air. Then laughing, she moved the blades inside of him up and down, slicing his insides to shreads. She continued the motion, turning his body into a bloody mess. Then, drawing her blades up into attack position, she smiled, blood dripping from her lips. Every Imperial Troop looked stunned that a person would, and could do that to anybody, much less their commander. And this was a WOMAN.

"OK, who's next," Natasha asked.

"You will pay for that," One trooper said.

Natasha knew this would proablly be her last battle. A closed in space, which means she didn't have much room to perform any fancy manuvers. If she was to win, should have to just hack-n-slash her way to the outside. There she would have a more room for jumping and such. The troops rushed her. Luckily, she was ready for them. She had to be very careful not to stab anyone, but slash at them. If she stabbed anyone, her sword could get stuck and leave her open for attack. Natasha believed that a sword was just as good as a shield, if used properly.

She began by catching one troop with a kick behind the knee, dropping him to his back. She then jumped into the air, downward stabbing him into the chest. Then, using her momentum to flip herself with the sword being a catupult, to trust her feet into another trooper's face, knocking him into the wall, unconcious. Finally, after landing, she pulled out her sword and slashed another troops neck, killing him instantly. Maybe she could get through this. Natasha's fighting skills far exceeded the abilities of these troops. Fianlly, after hacking her way to the door, she jumped and flipped out, then turning suddenly, prepared to attack.

More troops attacked. Natasha was begining to feel tired. She couldn't give up, though. This was for the people of Jidoor, and her. She contined to attack. Slashing her way though them, she lost her black sword somewhere. She didn't know where, all she knew what that she stabbed someone straight, and the sword did not pull out cleanly. She would have to go back for it. She grapsed her silver sword with both hands and decided she had to use her feet as well as her sword to in this battle. Jumping up, she connected with a spin kick on two soliders, dropping them down to the ground. Then slashing at one with her sword. Rebounding from the jump, she caught one trooper but slicing his leg off, from below the knee. Rising, she noticed that she was surrounded by guys that were not wearing Imperial armor. These guys looked different. However, Natasha stood firm in her guard.

"Who goes there?" Natasha yelled.

"We are the Knives," one of the men yelled, "We are here to help you, but it appears you've already cleaned house."

"Well," Natasha sighed, catching her breath, "I was very lucky to get out of that situation alive. It seems like most of these guys had never fought before."

"That's odd," the Knife replied.

"My foster parents are inside," she smiled, "But they are OK."

"Might I ask who you are?" the Knife asked.

"I am Natasha...Ge...I mean Chase," Natasha caught herself in mid-sentance.

"Hello Natasha," the Knife replied, "We'll take you to our leader, Scarecrow."

Natasha looked for her black sword. However, upon finding it, she was shocked. The blood that was on it, had melted the blade. Strange, that a gift from the Goddesses would do that. She then remembered that her foster parents owe her some new armor, and started into the house.

She exited the house, washed up completely. Her new armor was black, but it covered more of her body. A golden tiara adorned her head, and a long purple cape flowed from her back. For the first time since this battle began, Natasha felt clean. One the outside, she smiled, but on the inside she was sad. Her eyes wandered the battle field, blood and bodies everywhere. These people had lives, just as she does. They might have had families and children, but now their lives were over. All at the hand of Natasha.

"Now, please take me to see Scarecrow," Natasha smiled, "I would like to meet him."

Although she could not forget about this day, she could put it behind her. She looked in her pouch at the magicite. They glowed and erie green. Soon, Natasha knew she would find out about her mother and father, in more detail...

Thoughts raced through his weathered mind as he worked to revive the villagers. Was he making the right decision? These people still needed him. This war was not over and the situation seemed to just get worse. How could he just walk out on those who needed his guidance?

He shook his head sadly as he wadded through the injured. The smoke hung in an acidic stench and stung his lungs as he breathed. He heard shouts from ahead and rushed to the scene. As he hid in the shadows, he saw Akfek's forces pour through a break in the lines. Gripping his staff he edged himself into the abandoned house nearby and ducked into the kitchen. He gasped as he saw an injured woman lying near comatose on the floor. She had been gutted brutally.

He knelt down beside her and began to attempt to heal her. He concentrated all his energy into his energies, and for what seemed for hours, continuously healed her. He gave a sigh of relief as he saw breath draw into her body and he tried to raise himself off the floor.

He looked straight into the blade of a rapier.

"Oh my.." He muttered as he felt the tip pinch him between the eyes.

The owner's voice chuckled in laughter as he knelt down to meet Banon eye to eye.

"THIS is the leader of the Returners?"

"I seem to be at a disadvantage... you are?" Banon stammered.

"Renshield, General of these armies. And you are Banon, archdruid and leader of the so-called 'Returners'. Am I even close?"

Banon swallowed uncomfortably as the blade twisted around, causing a trickle of blood to trace down his forehead, "It's a rather close approximation."

Renshield chuckled again, "I expected a mighty sorcerer, not a tired old healer. I thought my job was going to be difficult."

Banon glanced sharply at his captor and grumbled "By Gaia, I shall not make it that easy for you."

Banon quickly dropped to the floor and rolled away and made a dash for the door. Reinshield roared in shock and leapt after him, his sword raised. He brought it down on the fleeing man only to connect with he wood of the door frame. A smile drew across his face, this would turn out amusing after all.

* * * * * *

Banon scurried down the alleyways in panic.. He had to find some help, fast. He rounded the corner and ran smack into a dead end. He looked at the wall in dispair and turned around. He was trapped.

"Gaia.." He whispered..

He saw a shimmering form before him. It was only there a moment and then it wavered ad vanished again. Banon tried to call out to it, but found he was lacking in voice. he looked down and saw that his legs had become wooden...He had turned into a tree!

Reinshield came thundering down the alley till he came upon a giant willow. He stopped, puzzled. Where was the old man? Anger welled up in him, to be given the slip by an elderly fool.

He looked around frantically for clues, but all he could find was stupid willow growing out of concrete!

He stopped again and smiled. "Gotcha graybeard."

Raising his sword he sank the blade deep into the trunk of the tree. Blood erupted as the tree emitted a howl and vanished. Banon sank to the ground clutching his leg in agony.

Reinsheild laughed maniacally as he raised his blade again triumphantly, "And now Old Man," He sneered, "You die."

With that he swung his blade again...

With that, he swung his blade again...

A sharp point pricked General Renshield in the back. "I thought you had honor, Renshield!" cried out a gruff voice from behind. "I never thought you would stoop to the level of killing an unarmed old man! But if you're going to, don't let me stop you. I'll only kill you."

Renshield let his blade drop to his side. "So... the honorable assassin is back. You are right as usual, I shouldn't kill an unarmed man. Even this scum deserves a proper trial and hanging. Someday, assassin, he'll get one. Of that you can be sure."

Scarecrow ignored him. "Are you all right, Banon? Can you walk?"

Banon frowned grimly and nodded. "Give it a little time, though..."

"Time is what you don't have," a stern voice called out from a nearby building. Ten Magitek soldiers stepped out from the sides of the building, and archers appeared lining the roof.

"Now, Returner scum, drop your weapon, and let Renshield go, or we'll destroy you and the old man with you."

Scarecrow paused, and a heavy silence filled the air. Finally, Scarecrow lowered his saber, dropping it to the ground. "How easily the tables turn," he remarked.

"Too true," Renshield responded as he turned slowly to face the assassin. Renshield raised his sword slowly. "Now, scum... on your knees."

"Not a chance. I kneel before no man."

"Then you will die, fool!"

"I am unarmed. You cannot kill me." Scarecrow's voice was still perfect calm, and his bright green eyes were unmoved.

Renshield's temper was rising steadily. "Your mockery of honor will not save you! Now! This is your final warning! On your knees, or I will burn you where you stand!"

The faintest trace of emotion, perhaps amusement, glimmered in Scarecrow's eyes. "The very fires of Hell could not burn me. Think you got what it takes, boy? Then take your best shot."

Renshield was awed for a moment. This assassin, surrounded and with no weapons, was still acting as though he had the upper hand! Renshield had never seen such arrogance.

The moment of awe was just long enough for Scarecrow. He flipped backwards, tossing a grappling hook straight up into the sky. Though confused, Magitek soldiers and archers quickly brung their weapons to bear on Scarecrow.

The hook caught on the feet of a black chocobo flying overhead. As Magitek blasts and arrows rained through the air around him, Scarecrow swung away, hanging on tight to the thick rope.

Renshield swore. At a quick order, his men lined up for another volley, but the chocobo had already taken Scarecrow out of reach. The men launched a few more ineffectual vollies before finally giving up.

Anger threatening to fill him, Renshield turned back to Banon. Another curse escaped his lips.

Banon was gone.

As he tossed his sword to the ground, Renshield realized that Banon must have escaped as everyone's attention was focused on Scarecrow. Renshield knew that the assassin must have planned it.

Scarecrow's mocking laughter filled Renshield's thoughts for hours.

************************

"Nice save. That went even better than I had hoped."

"Thankoo Sca-co," the chocobo chirped, beaming from the compliment.

"Your chocobo talks?" Banon asked as he held tight to Scarecrow, eyeing the ground far below.

"Just one of those additions I haven't had time to tell you about yet. Along with the fact that I want you to get Setzer to build me a watership as payment for this battle."

"A watership?"

The black chocobo spoke up before Scarecrow could respond. "A boah tha go unde-wata inste of thoo aiw."

Scarecrow and Banon both stared down at their ride for a moment, then gave each other looks. "Yes, well... I don't think I even want to know what you want it for." Banon sighed almost imperceptibly. "I can tell you this much... if my use for it works, it will be very beneficial to your cause."

Banon hmmmed, looking down over the city of Jidoor. "Just where are we going, anyway?"

"To find out where my Knives were when I could've used some help against the Imperials. They better have a good explanation for this. Looks like we're about to find out."

The dark chocobo swooped out of the sky hard enough to make Banon's stomach do a complete flip. The landing was no less impressive.

Banon half-climbed, half-fell off the chocobo, on the verge of upheaval. Scarecrow seemed amused, but said nothing. Banon wondered briefly how he could be friend to a man who was so guarded, so heartless. Banon also decided he much preferred Gaia's good ground to the skies.

Two Returner soldiers were approaching, followed by a young woman. To say the woman was beautiful would not truly do her justice. Sweet golden hair draped over her black armor. She had features that most would consider precisely perfect, and striking blue eyes.

Banon scrubbed at his eyes. To find such a flower in the middle of a battlefield... it was inconceivable.

Scarecrow didn't even seem to notice. He walked straight up to one of his soldiers. "Report, Lieutenant!" he barked.

"We spotted a regiment of troops headed this way, sir! We moved to intercept, but..." The soldier's eyes strayed to the young lady, and lingered there for a moment. "Er... this lady finished almost all of them before we even got there, sir."

Scarecrow turned to the woman. "Natasha, I presume?"

Natasha blinked. "Yes, but how did you...?"

"I know everything," Scarecrow interrupted. "I have heard you are good at..." Scarecrow's voice trailed off as a knife blossomed in his hand from nowhere. His knife whittled through the air Natasha had occupied only a moment before.

The knife struck again, but this time Natasha was ready. She caught Scarecrow's hand, and yanked him over his shoulder, snatching the knife from his hand as he did so.

Natasha whirled, fully ready to fight. Banon and the two Returners only managed to blink in surprise.

Scarecrow got up and brushed himself off. "Yes, you'll do nicely," he commented. "I want her promoted to rank Lieutenant, Banon, and transferred to the Knives, if she so wishes."

Natasha slowly lowered the knife in her hands. "Wha... who the hell do you think you are? You think you can try to kill me, and..."

"If I had wanted to kill you, nothing you could have done would have saved you. That was a simple test, to see firsthand just how good you are. I command the toughest squad in the Returners; I have to be rather picky."

Natasha was dumbfounded. This whole situation was completely unreal.

"In any case, the Returners would love to have you, Natasha. The Returners fight against the rising tides of evil and tyranny in the world, such as the Empire. If you care about peace, or if your loved ones have ever been in danger, join the Returners. They can bring light back to the world. The choice is yours."

**************

Renshield swore, not for the first time today. The battle was not going nearly as well as planned. A single intruder had managed to take out the Fury, Captain Brazier's airship. A woman by the name of Natasha had rampaged through Jidoor, taking out at several score of guardsmen. And then she had joined the Knives! As for the Knives... all Renshield could say was that they were aptly named. They seemed to be whittling down his forces nicely.

And then there was the fact that Scarecrow and Banon had escaped him somehow. As well as several new enemies who had only just shown up at the scene of the battle. And a group of wolves or dogs who were rampaging around the city, killing things at random.

Still, the Imperial forces outnumbered the Returners, and the BMB124 had added to that advantage. Unfortunately, at the rate the battle was going, the advantage was soon to change. Hence Renshield's last gambit, a desperate swordstroke. If it was parried, the Empire's forces here were finished. If not, Banon would die, and the misguided Returners would die with him.

Renshield adjusted his sword in his belt. There was only one thing left to do to ensure the success of this battle. If he could hunt down and destroy the Knives, that would tip the balance far enough for the final victory. So... to set a trap.

As he immersed himself in his plans, Renshield took time to notice that it was snowing only a short distance away. Snowing, while the rest of the world was warm with sun. An odd omen indeed... if you believe in omens, that is.

*********************

The Knives charged recklessly through the corridors of the Returner's base. Almost all the fighting was now going on inside the base. The front lines had broken, and even the rearguard had fallen. Imperials and Returners filled the base, hunting each other down. Most troops had split into small groups. The Knives were one of the last groups remaining together, and as such they were a force to be reckoned with.

Scarecrow turned his attention back to the three troopers he was facing. Effortlessly Scarecrow spun back out of reach of their blades, then lunged low to stab one through the leg.

The remaining two thrusted simoultaneously, one high and one low. As Scarecrow's sword danced to bat both shots away, the assassin's foot swung out wildly to the side, hammering into one of the troopers hard enough to crack a few ribs.

The last trooper aimed a swing at Scarecrow's midsection. Scarecrow let the blow crash against his body armor, allowing the Imperial a moment of grim satisfaction before skewering him.

Glancing around, Scarecrow noticed that this particular skirmish seemed to be over. The last few soldiers were being mopped up. Back down the corridor, Natasha hacked a Magitek soldier to ribbons. She was doing backup, and apparently a few men had tried to sneak up on them.

A scout ran up to Scarecrow and saluted. "I've located an enemy squad of about thirty, sir. They're headed down the corridors that way, toward the main hall."

"Excellent. It looks like we just got finished with this crowd. Men!" he shouted so the rest of the group could hear him. "This way! To the main hall!"

*****************

Scarecrow knew something was wrong the moment they entered the main hall. It's balconies and tables were empty, yes, but something more. There was a faint buzzing at the back of Scarecrow's mind.

The squad of thirty that the Knives were chasing abruptly turned around, apparently deciding to meet in the center of the hall. Though there were only twenty or so Knives, they were far more experienced, and Scarecrow knew it wouldn't be even a challenge.

And yet... something was wrong. There was strong magic being used nearby, of that he was sure. But what...

Magitek soldiers suddenly began materializing around the room, quickly cutting off any means of escape for the Knives. More and more soldiers popped into view, until there were all told at least a hundred Imperials in the room.

Scarecrow tried calculating options, but there seemed to be none. They were trapped, with no escape unless they could cut through about fifty experienced enemy soldiers.

Scarecrow realized dimly that the magical effect that he had noticed was the cloaking of S&A's forces... and that an Imperial airship must be flying low enough overhead to allow the soldiers to cloak. Unfortunately, there was little Scarecrow could do with that knowledge.

General Renshield stepped out of the gathered crowd of soldiers. "So, assassin, you are the leader of this little band? Astonishing. First you turn out to have a sense of honor, then you turn out to have fine generalling skills as well. Who exactly are you?"

Scarecrow said nothing.

"No matter. I believe the game is up. I doubt you'll even consider surrender, so..."

"Wait!" Scarecrow interrupted. Renshield stopped in midsentence, surprised.

"I agree to surrender, if my men are given free passage out of Jidoor. You can do what you like with me, as long as my men go free. I want your word of honor."

"And you are a martyr as well. Unbelievable. Very well, I agree to your terms. You have my word that your men will not be harmed. Throw down your weapons."

Slowly, the Knives complied, though none of them seemed very happy about it. Those with Magitek armor slowly clambered out of it. Just as slowly, Scarecrow stepped forward to stand before Renshield.

"What is your name, assassin?" Renshield asked.

"Scarecrow."

Renshield frowned, but nodded after a short time. "Very well, Scarecrow, I charge you with treason, conspiracy, and causing the deaths of at least a hundred Imperial soldiers. The penalty for this is death. Is there anything you can say in your defense?"

"Yes. It doesn't have to end this way, Renshield. You know your Empire is tyrannical. You know it is wrong. If you have any honor in you, fight the evil. Fight for what you truly believe in."

For a long moment, Renshield paused, considering. An internal war threatened to break the general's composure. Each and every eye in the room was squarely on him.

"I find you guilty, and sentence you to immediate death." Renshield drew his sword, slowly, raising the tip to touch Scarecrow's forehead.

Several of the Knives tried to charge forward to help their leader, but they were now unarmed, and bulky Magitek armors moved into their way.

"It has been interesting getting to know you, Scarecrow. Goodbye."

Renshield raised his sword high...

And it crashed down, jabbing straight through Scarecrow's skull. He dropped to the ground, dead.

The Knives cried out, and a few of them had to be knocked out before they would stop struggling.

One of Renshield's lieutenants managed a weak laugh. "You know, sir, for a moment I thought he might have gotten you to betray us." Neither the laughter nor the words managed to break the pervading silence that filled the room.

"Should I take off his mask, sir?" asked a soldier. No one relished the idea of touching a man who had a sword through his head, but many of the men were curious.

"No..." Renshield responded, as if in a dream. "It is not right to deface his honor that way. Even the honor of a dead man, and an enemy at that."

The silence continued. Finally, after what seemed ages, Renshield slipped out of the trance he had been in, returning to the present. It was time to deal with the now, not brood over what could have been.

As if sensing the change in Renshield, the mood of the room lightened somewhat. Some of the Imperials began to feel victorious at last. Though the war was not quite over, they had confidence that it soon would be. The Returners would die, and the Empire would rule the world. At last.

"Sir?" asked one of Renshield's lieutenants. "What should I have done with the Knives?"

"Kill them," Renshield responded quickly.

"Kill them?" asked Captain Khren. "But what about your promise to..."

"If I let them go, they will only return later, and we will have to kill them then. It will cost many Imperial lives. Far easier to kill them now and get it over with. Besides, one does not need to keep an oath to a dead man."

"So." It was a single word, spoken softly, and yet it echoed across the entire hall. All eyes turned to the balcony, on which stood a young woman, her eyes blazing in indignation. Natasha.

"So... you will keep your word, as long as it does not interfere with what is practical? Is that it? You will have your honor, as long as it doesn't conflict with your goals?" Her voice rose steadily as she spoke, and her words stung Renshield like acid.

"It's just that..." he tried to intervene, but she would have none of it.

"You gave your word of honor to a man who knew he was going to die because of it! And now we all see what your honor is!" Natasha spat on the floor. "Your honor means nothing! You have none of what you claim to cherish! I am not sure if I have ever met a man who deserved to die as much as you, Renshield! If I was one of your own men right now, I would rise up and kill you where you stand, coward!"

None of the men in the room could bear to meet Natasha's burning gaze. All of them felt as though they were somehow accomplices in a great atrocity.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves! You would fight for men who break their word to dead men! You would fight for men who claim to have honor, and yet will break that honor in the slightest adversity! My commander may have been an assassin, or maybe even worse, but at least he fought and died for what he believed in! Can any of you say you truly believe that the reason you are fighting is right?"

No one in the hall made any motion, except for several of the Knives.

"So be it," Natasha declared. "Go then! I don't ever want to see any of you ever again! Get out of my sight!"

The soldiers began to disperse, leaving only the Knives and Natasha in the room. Natasha leaped over the balcony and dropped to the floor. She slowly walked over to where Scarecrow's body lay.

It was gone. There was not even blood pooled on the floor where it should be. It had been there only a moment ago, but it had somehow dissappeared.

Natasha stood there for a moment, dazed. Wheezing from nearby brought her back to her senses.

After searching for a while, Natasha found that a certain table in the hall seemed to be breathing hard. It was draped with a fine tablecloth, and had dishes on it, as though a feast would be brought in any moment. It seemed such a shame to knock it over.

Under the table a black-cloaked figure was huddled, coughing and wheezing as though it were hard to breathe. "Don't touch me," a voice warned. The voice sounded like Scarecrow's but it had lost much of it's usual deep, gruff, quality.

"You... you're alive?" Natasha asked, though the answer was obvious. "How did you...?"

"Illusion," Scarecrow coughed. "I've... been under this... <hack>... table since the soldiers fi... <cough cough>... first came in."

"Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine. Just give me... a moment to rest."

Natasha nodded, and turned back to the Knives. They were gathering together their weapons.

"Think you can ruin a man's honor, and live?" It was Renshield's voice. Natasha whirled. Renshield was standing with a sword to Scarecrow's head. In his current condition, Scarecrow didn't have any chance at all.

"I didn't ruin your honor," Scarecrow replied. "You did."

Natasha took a few steps forward. Renshield looked up. "Back, bitch, or he really will die. I don't think THIS one is an illusion, do you?"

Natasha nodded and backed off a little. All the Knives brought their weapons to bear on Renshield. "You'll never get away with this, Renshield!" she shouted. "If you kill him, you're finished!"

"I'm already dead. I have no honor. I have no dignity. I am worthless."

"And killing me... <cough>... will give you your honor back?" Scarecrow wheezed slowly.

"Maybe not. But at least you will pay."

Scarecrow shook his head. "Listen to me, Renshield. No one will mourn the death of an assassin. I won't even be sad about my own death. This world is a hateful place. But you... <hack>... you have a daughter. You still have something to live for. Don't give that up. Your daughter needs you still."

Renshield slowly lowered his weapon. "You are right, as always." He shook his head, sadly.

Natasha ran up to Renshield, grabbed his sword, and put her own blade up against his throat. "What should we do with him, SC?"

"Let him go."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me. Do it."

Slowly, reluctantly, Natasha lowered her weapon. She gave Renshield a shove toward the door, and he walked out. Then she turned back to glare at Scarecrow.

"Are you sure about this? What's to stop him from just taking over command of the Imperials again and coming back to kill us?"

"Renshield is beaten. He knows it. I don't think he'll ever fight again, even as a simple soldier. He doesn't have the heart for it anymore."

Natasha only shook her head.

********************

"The world before the fall

Lovely is the light of dawn

Noble is the heart of man"

***************************

Natasha then looked at Scarecrow. A man in black. A man who claims to have no heart. This was only a cover-up, however. Natasha could feel this when she saw Scarecrow put his own life on the line so that the Knives would not be harmed when Renshield had them cornered. Even if he didn't admit it, Scarecrow had a heart of some kind, or he wouldn't be on the side he's on.

She watched as Banon and Scarecrow sent the Knives out to do something. She then whipped out her silver blade and tried to mark the red blood stains from it. The two Returners apporached her after a while.

"I forgot to commend you on some excellent fighting," Scarecrow said to her.

"Yes," Banon quickly followed, "The Returners are proud to have you."

"Thank you both," Natasha smiled with a wink, "I try my best."

"You truely are a rare find in today's world," Banon smiled back.

Natasha giggled, "Why thank you, Banon," then turning her attention to Scarecrow, "If you don't mind me asking, how in the world did you know who I was, and how much do you know?"

"I know your assumed name is Natasha Toni Chase," Scarecrow replied, "But your real name is Natasha Chase Gestahl."

"Gestahl?" Banon cocked his eyerbow, "You are the daughter of the former Emperor?"

"Yeah," Natasha continued to wipe down her blade, "That is me. I'm not proud of that fact though."

"Interesting," Banon grumbled, going into deep thought about something.

"I also know that your fighting skills are legendary," Scarecrow contined, "And a welcome face to the Returner camp."

"Thank you," Natasha giggled again, "I do have some pressing matters to attend to, however."

"You mean defeating Enygma," Scarecrow implied.

"Well, if I got the chance, yes," Natasha looked puzzled, "How do you know of Enygma?"

"Let's just say we've met," Scarecrow snickered, "I hear alot of things through rumor as well."

"Well, I also have to do what I said I was going to do," Natasha gave up on the sword, "I must free the Goddesses from the Magicite in my bag."

"Magicite?!" Banon twirled, "Where in the world did you get Magicite?"

"Enygma left it in cowardness when I defeated him before all hell broke loose in Jidoor," Natasha proudly boasted.

"Well then," Scarecrow insisted, "Free them."

"Yes, I would like to see the Goddesses for myself," Banon inserted.

"Very well," Natasha smiled, "I will finally find out about my past."

She took the two stones from her bag and displayed them to the two men before slamming them together, shattering them completely. A bright green light shown from the explosion. It was so bright, Natasha and Banon had to hide their eyes, Scarecrow acted like the light did not effect him. After the flash, Natasha looked to see two beautiful women, floating side by side.

"Well done," the Goddesses said at the same time, "You have done well, Natasha, daughter of Gestahl."

"I have had a long journey!" Natasha yelled.

"We know," the Goddesses replied, "We shall tell you of your past."

Banon quietly whispered to Scarecrow during all of this, "Something is not right here, Scarecrow."

"I know that," Scarecrow replied, "But I want to see where this goes, so just watch."

The Goddesses started on their story:

"Natasha, your father, Gestahl, ruled the city of Vector with an iron fist. However, his greed for power forced him to dip into the world of science. His scientists found out several startling discoveries. The most effective being the way one could alter genetic codes by tampering with the DNA of both the egg and sperm cells, before fertilization. It was a way to take human life and mold it into anything they wanted. Gestahl only wanted one thing, power..so his scientists began work on the perfect genetic soldier. After a search of the entire world, a beautful woman as brought to the Emperor. The scientists took her DNA and fused it with his. The scientists further altered the cells so that the offspring would not only be genetically perfect, but could perform almost super human feats. The cells fertilized and were implanted back into the woman. Before the baby could be born, however, she escaped from Vector. Later she gave birth. However, the results were stunning, this baby was not at all what the Empire would expect. Those scientists were blinded by the fact of a perfect solider, they forgot to alter the simplest detail, the gender of the child. This child, gentically perfect and superior to other humans in every way, was FEMALE. She left the baby on the doorstep in Jidoor, hoping that your father would never find it. This baby's name was Natasha....."

"So you're saying I'm a perfect killer?" Natasha asked.

"Yes," the Goddesses replied, "A perfect killer who was a mistake. You were supposed to be male, so that Gestahl could leave his Empire to a powerful and well-respected warrior."

Meanwhile, Banon and Scarecrow stood back, still doubting the Goddesses were actually there. Scarecrow knew that something was familar about these Goddesses. Maybe not in the face, but something else. His really couldn't put his finger on it until something caught his attention. He noticed a small light green glitter for a second in the eyes of these Goddesses. The green tipped him off as he barged forward, lifting Natasha to her feet.

"Natasha," Scarecrow drew his sword, "Those are not the Goddesses of Magic."

"Wha...?" Natasha had a blank stare in her eyes, emotionally drained.

"Too late," The Goddesses laughed, "She is a puppet, just like she was meant to be."

"You lied to her," Scarecrow snarled, "You have no honor!"

"I did not lie," the Goddesses said, "I just... uh...took on a different identity. One that she could trust. Now that she knows the truth, she will pose me no threat in my quest! Master will be very proud!"

"Enygma," a voice from behind Scarecrow firmly stated. It was Natasha, sowrd drawn, ready for battle, "Your pranks and jokes are over! I have had enough! I want you out of my life, and OUT OF MY WORLD! This place is too good for you, demon!"

"Saw through me, did you," the Goddesses started to change, "I underestimated your mental power. A Human can be a wonderful thing, if MADE properly!"

"Scarecrow," Natasha motioned, "This is my fight, I will do this alone."

"I understand." Scarecrow faded back to Banon.

"Aren't we gonna help the poor girl?" Banon asked.

"No," Scarecrow replied, "She can and will defeat him on his own. I could see it in her eyes."

"For a defect, you've grown to be a thorn in my side," Enygma laughed, changing into the one form that even Natasha had to show fear for, herself.

"You will win!" Natasha cried, "After everything you have caused, I am ready to run you through!"

"And how can you fight a perfect warrior, my dear?" Enygma chuckled, drawing his sword.

"How can you?" Natasha smirked.

Swords clashed. The flash was like lighting. Banon had to cover his eyes, while Scarecrow just stared on. For every blow, there was a block, for every move there was a counter move. Both Natasha and Enygma faught bravely and galiently enough to impress anyone. Natasha began to get frustrated, it was like he could see into her soul. He was predicting her next move. How could she beat a perfect killer? It seemed impossible. Then, it struck her like a bolt of lightning. If Enygma has her strengths, he MUST have her weaknesses as well. However, the word "perfect," means no weaknesses. Natasha could catch no flaws in her battle plan as the fight raged on.

Finally, an idea struck Natasha. This was a longshot, but her only chance. Enygma may have made himself TOO perfect. She leaped over Enygma and purposly missed with a flying kick. The landing, was rough. She twisted her ankel and bent over in pain. Enygma beamed with confidence.

"So, your over confidnce is your un-doing," Enygma laughed.

"NO!" Banon yelled.

"Relax," Scarecrow put his arm in front of him, "I see this one comming."

Natasha breathed hard, and turned her back to Enygma, so her head would not be exposed.

"My dear, you faught bravely," Enygma cackled, "But you were no match for me."

Suddenly, all in one motion, Natasha twisted her arm behind her in a way that was not humanly possible, and stabbed Enygma with an uppercut, right through the jaw and skull. She then rolled out of the way and looked at Enygma. Black blood gushed from his face and head. Finally, the shapeshifter fell over, dead.

"She did it!" Banon laughed.

Natasha came up, "Well, I started thinking, if I had to find an imperfection about myself. As a child, I fell down the stair, breaking both of my collar bones in my neck, making my arms very flexible. I knew that when Enygma took my form, he though I was still perfect, without this injury."

"Brilliant battle plan," Banon commended her. "Now if you will come with me, I have something very important to tell you...."

"Not bad," the voice said, "But you cannot truely kill me, my dear..."

Natasha wiped around, "Enygma!"

Surely, Enygma was there, still as Natasha. His eyes glowed green. There was a scar, but other than that, he appeared to be unharmed.

"If you can bleed," Natasha replied, "I can kill you."

"Think that if you must," Enygma laughed, "I'm only trying to save you the pain of fatigue."

"I will destroy you," Natasha frowned, "Or I'll die trying."

"Then you will die," Enygma laughed.

"We shall see," Natasha drew her sword.

Another battle started. This one was much more fierce that the first. The clanging of swords filled the air. Banon and Scarecrow could only watch.

"Do you know which one is her?" Banon asked.

"The one on the left," Scarecrow replied.

"How can you tell?" Banon asked.

"I just know," Scarecrow looked at him.

Banon did not question his judgement. The battle raged on, until Natasha ran her sword through Engyma again. This time, Natasha continued to stab him, hopingto his every major organ. Her anger raged.

"You have not won," Enygma coughed. "To kill me, you must defeat the real Enygma..."

"Then face me," Natasha pulled her sword out.

"Only a fool would throw away his advantage," Enygma stood up, standing ready for attack.

"You are scared of me, Enygma," Natasha laughed, "You know that I can and will kill you!"

"You wish to see the REAL Enygma," Enygma howled. "This will truly be your last day of existance."

Enygma started to glow a green. A flash took place, blinding Natasha and Banon. Once again Scarecrow acted unaffected. When Natasha regained her sight, Enygma was his true form. The form was hideous, like nothing ever seen. Enygma now had four arms, two of which had wings connected to them. He slid along with a snake-like tail. A Black Horn stuck out of his head. The size of Enygma was also unbelieveable, as he topped eight feet.

"Enygma, your form strikes no fear into my heart!" Natasha yelled.

"I will have to take your heart and see it for myself!" Enygma beamed.

"Then fight me!" Nataha yelled.

Natasha knew in her heart and soul this could be her last battle. However, she did not care. She would not let Enygma play with her mind anymore. He had to be killed. She rushed into the battle, to show Enygma that she was not really scared. Leaping into the air, Natahsa swung her sword to meet Eygma's talons. The clash was like two gods, duking it out. She landed and swung around quickly. Enygma apporached for an attack, and Natasha was ready. She used a nasty backflip kick to catch him under the butt of the jaw, knocking him back. She laughed at his slowness. An angered shapeshifter, Enygma attacked again. This was exactly what Natasha wanted. She tried again for her backflip kick, but Enygma was expecting that. He picked her up and slammed her across his elbow. A normal person's back would have snapped, but Natasha was not normal. The pain did rush through her like nothing she had ever felt. His power was definately something to watch for. If he caught her again, it could be the end of her all together. Something caught her eye as she was being slammed. The horn sticking out of Enygma's head seemed to not belong there. It was out of place. This was a possible weakness. It made her think of a new battle plan. Enygma raced forward again, this time chanting a spell of sorts. The language was definately not of the runic language of this world. She had to act now. If he could get this spell off, it would be all she wrote. Natahsa lunged forward, jumping to the left of Enygma. She landed on his shoulder and quickly hacked at his horn as he turned his head. The horn flew off into the air. Enygma's eye grew as his black blood flew from his head. She leaped from the shoulder and landed, facing Enygma. Without another second, Enygma fell over, dead. A bright flash of light, Enygma's body disappeared. Natasha knew it was over... finally.

Scarecrow commended Natasha on her fighting, and Banon smiled.

"Now then, Banon," Natasha sighed, breathing hard, "What did you want to tell me?"

"Enygma still went down too easily," Natasha said.

"Perhaps," Banon said, "But for now you have defeated him, and he is finally dead."

"I hope you are right," Natasha smirked, rubbing her back, "I would hate to have to do that again."

"Are you OK?" Banon asked

"I'm fine," Natasha said, "Nothing a good night's rest won't fix."

Natasha was lying to Banon, but didn't want him to worry about her. The fix with Enygma did leave her back with an injury. Hopefully, this genetic engineering would fix her back soon.

"OK," Banon began, "I'm going to tell you what I know about your mother."

"Really?" Natasha asked.

"Yes," Banon continued, "I knew your mother. In fact, I was there when you were born. I helped her escape from Vector and then helped her give birth to you. Your mother was a beautiful woman. After leaving you on that doorstep, she fled to somewhere the Empire would never find her. At first, she knew nothing about where she was going, but soon all her questions would be answered. She fell through a gate and ended up in the world of the Espers. There she fell in love with an Esper, Maduin, and lived there for some time. Your mother gave birth to Maduin's child before the Empire attacked and took many of the Espers and your mother to their death. The child was Terra Branford, and your mother is Madonna."

Natasha could not believe her ears. Terra, the one of the heroes who had destroyed Kefka, was her half-sister.

"I have a sister..." Natasha smiled.

"A half sister," Banon said, "But your mother is dead, killed by your father, when he invaded the Esper world."

Several feelings ran over her. She was indeed a perfect killer and a mistake, but she didn't feel so bad. She was related to a true hero, and nothing is ever certain in life. Perhaps she was meant to be, because Terra was half-esper, half-human, and she helped save the world. Perhaps a genetic defect was not as bad as it sounded.

"Natasha," Banon sighed, "You must understand your powers. You were indeed made to kill, but your father forgot to take into consideration human feelings and emotions. You must not let them get out of hand."

"Maybe that is why I have a bad temper," Natasha looked up, "I have been known to seriously blow my top..ask those Imperial Soliders."

"That is my point," Banon said, "If you lose it, you can do just about anything."

"You are right, Banon," Natasha hugged him. "Thank you so much for showing me that I'm human, and not just a defect."

"Even defects have feelings," Banon said, "If your father would have taken this into consideration, he might still be alive, seeing that one of his experiments killed him..."

"Kefka," Natasha squinted.

"Yes," Banon said, "But let us go back to Mobliz."

"Why there?" Natasha asked.

"The Returners' base is there," Banon smiled, "You're one of us now."

"You will take in the daughter of Gestahl?" Natasha cocked her eye.

"Yes, why not?" Banon asked, "If you ever get to take the throne of Vector, I am sure that you will make sure that nothing like this will ever happen again."

"I will," Natasha said, "I will restore honor to my family name!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, elsewhere...

"She is strong, Master," a voice said.

"Yes, I know," Master Faustus said. "Now that she has confidence in herself, it's even that much worse."

"I will kill her," the voice said.

"No," Faustus replied. "There are other things you must do, I want the gate opened."

"Yes, Master," the voice answered.

"Enygma... don't fail me again. I do not like failure."

"Yes, Master."

A messenger from the battle front entered the throne room. He held the latest report from General Renshield in his hand. The messenger handed the letter to MacArthur who promptly read the contents to Lady DelAubre and Akfek.

"The Empire's losses have continued to accumulate. However, our efforts have not been wasted in vain. The Imperial Army has discovered a weak point in the Returner's defenses. Our troops will penetrate the Returner's Base shortly. Victory to the Empire.

General Renshield."

* * *

At Jidoor, there were countless number of bodies that lay throughout the battle ground. General Renshield flipped the corpse of a former Imperial solider over. A picture lay underneath the corpse. General Renshield retrieved the photo and examined it. It was a picture of the soldier with his wife and daughter. General Renshield returned the picture to the soldier; such casualties were the product of war ... yes, there are many casualties in war.

Perhaps the ends will justify the means. If the Empire won, order and stability would be established. Although General Renshield hated all the slaughtering, killing, and massacres, until the Empire could establish its order, the deaths would have to continue.

"General Renshield!"

The General faced the oncoming Lieutenant. "What is the current status of our strike upon Sector-P?"

"The Returner's line of defense has been broken at Sector-P."

"Excellent. Order all troops in that area and all surrounding areas to charge into the Returner's base."

"Yes sir."

The troops stormed the weakened point in the Returner's base. The Returners fought valiantly but could not thwart the sheer number of soldiers that charged towards them. The Imperial army had penentrated the Returner's base... at last...

Garland's thoughts were interupted by a loud crash, which brought him straight back into the reality at hand. The ferocious BMB124 had set itself, or rather, Mason set it, to viciously ram the airship's flanks in an attempt to smash it completely. As another blow was struck to the ship's side, he realized the urgency of the situation. "Fiends!" he shouted over the roar of battle. "Come with me!"

Merine looked to see what the mysterious man was doing. After a breif word with his companions, Garland gave a long, loud whistle. From behind the Airship's right side, the fearsome shadow of Doom Gaze emerged. 'What's he...?" Merine began to wonder.

"I'll handle this situation!" Garland shouted to her and the others. "Mason is most interested in me!" With those words, he and the fiends leaped off the edge of the ship, onto the back of their robotic chariot of death.

"Aha!" Mason shouted from atop his steely titan. "Now I have you!" He wheeled in the air, and circled around behind Doom Gaze, preparing for the blow that could satisfy his vendetta once and for all. As the great beast's metallic fist came crashing down, DoomGaze sprang into flight. "WHAT?!" Mason screamed, cursing his own stupidity.

"Heh heh..." Kraken chuckled. He was thouroughly battered from head to toe, having barely beaten back the metallic menace on the Doman ground. Kary had taken quite a beating as well. Risking another round between fiends and Rokeg Kromm's genius was, at this point, a nightmarish joke. Even Lich, with his great Powers of the Earth, had been brutally punished. Kraken continued, "Now what?"

"To Jidoor!" Garland said, without looking back. "With Returner backup and perhaps some help from the Figarans, that thing doesn't stand a chance!" he finished. '...and that means Mason's history...' Secure in the knowledge that his vertically challenged enemy would soon be no more, Garland perked up a bit. Maybe things would start going HIS way for once...

"If, that is," Tiamat started, watching the rapidly approaching BMB124, "he doesn't finish us first!" She ducked as a searing blue beam of energy shot past her head. "This is gonna be one rough ride..."

Lich didn't speak. Thought the situation was dire, his mind was elsewhere, far, far away. Fifteen thousand years in the past, approximately. He remembered the one he was, but he couldn't remember why. He had such strange ideas then, of love, of hate, of sorrow. Feelings of ambition, instead of the constant cynical apathy he felt now. How strange life had been...

"Here comes another!" Kary shouted, as the Bionic Behemoth fired another round of blue death. Luckily for the fiends and Garland, Doom Gaze was agile enough to avoid the shot again. "Where are we, anyway?" she asked.

"I'm not sure!" Garland shouted back. The Ravenesque flying machine had been darting in and out of cloud cover, and he had lost track of the unfamiliar terrain. "To Jidoor, Doom G-" Garland was interrupted by another blast from the eyes of the BMB124, cutting into his left shoulder. He clutched the burning wound and winced. "Scratch that, Doom..." he began grimly. He then whispered something into the hearing canal of his ride.

DoomGaze wheeled sharply, and Garland stood, sword drawn, ready for an attack. They now headed straight for the face of their pursuer, and the two were on a collision course.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Tiamat exclaimed, holding on for dear life, but answer there came none. Just a steely look of grim determination. The fiends braced themselves...

The steely adversary let forth another volley of laser, this one connecting with DoomGaze's right wing. DoomGaze veered left slightly, from the impact, and Garland made the longest leap of his entire life. Taking Mason completely off guard, he landed not six inches from him, on the broad back of the bio-metallic chariot. As the short man was about to speak, he felt two quick sword slashes across the face.

From the fiend's point of view, what happened after that was not exactly clear. They saw the two grapple, but then lost sight of them as Doom Gaze dipped below the clouds and made a bee-line for Jidoor. "Doom Gaze!" Kraken shouted above the wind. "We've got to help our master!"

"Negative, sir Kraken," DoomGaze replied robotically. "He has ordered me to take you four directly to Jidoor to consult with Lord Banon..."

"Lord who...?" Lich inquired, not having heard anyone referred to as such in a long time. "Oh, yes... Banon, of course..."

* - * - *

"I swear," Garland began, "I'll KILL you!" He held Mason's arms tightly, as the small man gritted his teeth through the blood pouring down his face.

"Not if I kill you FIRST!" Mason said, tripping Garland with a sudden sweep kick. He brought his fist down hard upon his enemy's head, ignoring the pain that resulted from hitting the obsidian helm. As Garland recovered, nearly falling off the metallic beast, Mason shouted, "Take us to Sector-P!" The BMB made a sudden downward sweep.

Garland rose again, sword in hand, ready for the first and final strike. Mason simply stood, waiting patiently for an attack. Noticing the lack of initiative, Garland took a moment to look down at the ground below. He noticed Mount Zozo looming in the distance. when he looked back, however, to the crisis at hand, Mason held a saber in hand as well. The two began a deadly sky duel on a platform of no more than six square feet.

Swords clashed, and skills matched. When one swung, the other blocked. When one thrusted, the other dodged. The stalemate continued for what seemed to be hours, though it truly lasted no more than thirty seconds.

Mason had thought well, for he had pinned Garland's light sword with his own short cutlass. However, Garland released the sword, and punched Mason straight in the face, knocking his Imperial helmet clear off his face. Mason screamed as his wounded face felt like fire, his hands stained with blood as he grasped his torn countenance. Then, with the strength of a dragon king, the short Imperial delivered a blow straight to Garland's unprotected stomach.

'It's a strange feeling,' Garland thought, as he plummeted Earthward. 'I suppose death won't be too bad. At least I made it to Jidoor...' He let his body go limp as he rapidly approached the welcoming rooftop below...

Of course, more than his life was intact. His right arm was fine, as was his obsidian helm. His left arm was numb, as was his right leg. His vision was slightly distorted and out of focus. His head felt full of cotton, and the rest of him just hurt, his left leg and ribs in particular.

Garland decided that it was time to stop loafing and report to Banon. Enduring major discomfort from his leg and ribs, he put his feet on the floor. It was at this time that it hit him. The real pain shot through his left leg, like a pain he had never felt before in his life. He immediately fell to the floor, in tears of pain. 'Stay with it, Garland...' he thought to himself, as he scanned the room for any aid. On one of the nearer bookshelves, Garland spotted a small vial marked "Elixer". He dragged his wounded body over to the shelve, reached up, and grasped the bottle of relief. Knowing intuitively that anything marked Elixer had to be good, Garland downed it in a single gulp. What surprised him was the audible, and very painful snapping of bones knitting, and the slurping of wounds being instantly disinfected.

When he came to again, Garland felt very much like a new man. The parts of him that were numb before felt as good as ever, and his ribs and leg felt as though they could actually support his weight. He rose, wiping cold sweat from his forehead, and limped to another shelf with several other vials and cordials. Feeling lucky, he took a swig of every single one, enjoying the healing effects now, and even getting a bit giddy off them. Taking a small length of cord from a nearby curtain, he constructed a makeshift potion belt, for easy access later. 'Hell...' he thought, 'always wanted to try my luck at Alchemy...'

Taking a look around, Garland quickly deduced how he had come to be in such a nice place. Apparently, he had fallen through the roof after his air-duel with Mason. When looking at the ragged roof-hole, Garland also took notice of some interesting noises coming from without... He used the bed to climb out of the hole to get a good look at what was going on in town...

Nothing could have prepared Garland for the sights he saw when coming out of the tall house. There were soldiers. Many soldiers. There were also Returners. Not many Returners. There were also quite a few of the devices with which Mason had attacked him such a long while ago. 'Magutekno, wasn't it?' he thought briefly. Looking around the rooftop, he was happy to find his trustworthy Light Sword only a few meters away. He picked it up grimly, and leapt down from balcony to balcony to fire escape until he reached the ground.

Some would find it dishonorable to stab an opponent in the back. Garland had no such moral dilemna, so he really made a point of doing it whenever it was easy. That was the first thing he did when he reached the ground. He also didn't believe that taking a dead man's belongings was wrong, or even a living man's, for that matter. 'He won't be needing this anymore anyway...' he rationalized as he removed a karge shield from the soldier's left arm. It's always better to be protected when you're in the midst of battling an Empire, especially if you think you're doing it solo.

* - * - *

The fiends were also doing their fair share of the work. They too had realized Akfek's most crucial invasion upon their return. Kraken had taken up a sword, and had began killing anything Imperial that wasn't already dead, and he even made a few exceptions. So far, his killing count was at about fourteen. Still, as he madly hacked and slashed through Magitek armor and magically endowed troops, he was a bit confused. He had seen a man in uniform black clothing doing a good amount of fighting and running about. Though he seemed to be slaying the Imperials with the help of his men, Kraken couldn't decide whether the cloaked stranger was an enemy or not.

Kary had been trying her luck with her bare hands, and was having quite a time. She hadn't killed any soldiers yet, but she had knocked out three, disarmed five, and convinced two to give it up for a few sexual favors which she never intended to fulfill. However, at the present, she was confronting a heavily armed Magitek rider, with a very confident air. She was having a very hard time getting any punche through his very effective and quick defence. "What's the matter, sweetheart?" he chortled. "A bit more than a little miss like yourself can handle, eh? Haw haw haw!"

Kary was beginning to get very angry. One thing she hated was to be mocked and taunted. She clenched her fists, and saw that the soldier and armor prepared themselves for the attack. 'I get it...' she thought. 'He taunts me so it's obvious when I attack...' She dropped her fists to her sides, and brought her hands back up, palms facing the cocky enemy. She mumbled a number of words in a forgotten tongue under her breath, and her eyes began to glow a fierce crimson. She slowly approached her steel encased antagonist... "Miumarcasus Hex-fist!" she shouted, making a gigantic leap forward and throwing a punch. Her fist connected with the metallic arm, but the soldier inside reacted violently, as if hit by five punches in several places. Then he fell, dead. Kary only smiled sweetly...

Tiamat didn't mind the rage of war at all. She was making a show of it. Where a simple kick would suffice, she would do a double axle spin, striking twice. Although such a performance is usually confined to ice, she had manufactured a technique of "air-skating", which involved gliding upon an miniscule layer of air on the ground. It felt good to have even a fraction of her former glory back again. As soldiers seemed to simply materialize where air had been before, certain thoughts were running through her mind. 'Well... why not push it to the limit?' Making a splendidly graceful leap into the air, she shouted a sort of "power word," and there was a tremendous flash. When visibility returned, soldiers saw a woman with small horns atop her head, leathery bat wings, and a long scaly tail protruding from her backside. Most had already ran when the lightning began to fly...

It was an odd time for Lich. Usually he would be all for death and killing, but now... something was wrong. It didn't seem right. He hid, in a darkened, peaceful alley, standing in a corner, alone. He wished he was alone, anyway. His thoughts wouldn't leave him, and neither would emotions... 'How strange,' he thought. 'These sensations that I keep getting... So foreign, so odd...' Like a great sentinel scarecrow, he stood silent and strong. Not a movement was discernable along the entirety of his immense figure. He stood, a statue in the dark, about to be disturbed. A small troop of soldiers tromped down the alleyway, auto-crossbows armed. They seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely, firing a stray arrow here or there and laughing. One of those arrows came very close to Lich's standing corner.

"Hey..." a soldier exuded, peering into the darkness. "Who's back there?"

"...Leave me in peace..." Lich breathed ominously. He made no movement.

"General...?" Another soldier inquired, edging closer to the dark corner.

"I said..." Lich began monotonously, "leave me be..." A cold wind issued forth from the corner as Lich spoke.

"I think you'd better come on out, bud..." Another soldier croaked bravely. The wind became colder, and more intimidating.

"Yeah, you better tell us who you are!" the fourth soldier added, a bit unsure. The wind continued to blow.

There was a long, uneasy pause. For the soldiers, it seemed to last an eternity. Four pairs of Imperial eyes widened tremendously as a slender, skeletal hand extended from the darkness, pointing a long, accusitory finger in their direction. "GO!" Lich's dark voice echoed, and the black, cold wind began to whip and howl. Soldier number one looked down at his numbing fingers, only to find them rapidly disappearing. The nothingness moved up his arm, and by that time he saw no more. Three soldiers had been erased, and the last was about to scream, but his mouth disappeared. Lich stepped out of the dark into the now re-emptied alley. His emotions had flown again, And he was feeling fine.

* - * - *

Not far away, Garland was making a mad dash through town, dodging arrows, lasers, and all sorts of obstacles. He had noticed the presence of the BMB 124, and had no interest in any further confrontation. While running between Magitek armors, he noticed an immense shape flickering in the sky. In a few moments, a huge airship came into view. Before Garland could get a good look at the flying machine, it's rear exploded in a shower of shrapnel. The sight was astounding; a fire in the sky, racing to meet the horizon. In all his time-travelling days, he had never seen anything so beautifully morbid as the destruction of a technological wonder.

Not forgetting his mission, Garland left the falling giant to search for a way into the sewers. 'I must find Banon!' he thought righteously. 'The entire Returners' organization may depend on me!' Running through the main street of the large town, he saw the fires burn and the people die. He also saw a man dressed all in blue, looking left to right for the next man to die. "Kraken!" Garland shouted. He ran to his companion.

"How are you fairing, master?" Kraken asked through heavy breaths.

"Fine!" Garland said cheerily, although his torn clothes and soot covered face suggested otherwise. "I've killed three already!"

"I'm up to sixteen..." Kraken said in a noncompetitive tone.

"Let's find Banon!" Garland said, looking at the sewer plate on the ground beneath them.

"Right!" Kraken said. With his two muscular arms, he pulled up the cover through a seemingly effortless heft. With a gesture, he allowed Garland to go ahead.

The sewers' condition had in no way improved since they last travelled them. They now ran heavily with blood, and stank of the dead. Garland and Kraken ran as swiftly as possible through the muck, in the direction of their recent home base. As they approached, voices became audible over the babbling crud. Rounding a corner, the two found a horde of Returners... or the bodies of the Returners. Most lay face down in the filth, stab wounds in the back, a few were crisp and smoking, and even fewer were merely ashes.

"Dead... they're all dead..." Kraken stuttered, shocked. He trudged forward, no longer worrying about getting his blue cape dirty.

"I..." Garland began, but no more words came forth. They were unable to escape his tightened throat. He gave Kraken a pleading look.

"Hmmm..." Kraken said, taking Garland's look the right way. "None of these are Setzer, or Merine, or Tucker. I think they're okay." He looked around at the stinking tomb of the New Returners. "But, damn it all, no body deserves this!!" He raised his hands above his head, and chanted the words to a spell not used in tens of thousands of years. The bodies were slowly enveloped by the murky grime, until no more were above the water line. Then, Kraken changed his position and prepared another incantation. The murk and slime slowly began to remove itself from the water, and make tiny streams toward the ceiling.

"Are you sure you ought to do that?" Garland began. "I mean, you're still far from full power..."

Kraken continued, oblivious, until the sewerway was a crystal clear pool of pure water. Each second stone in the making of the walls had a name engraved upon it. The once murky, disgusting waters were now a shrine to the bravery of the fallen young men. Kraken collapsed onto one knee, coughing and spluttering.

"What is it?" Garland asked, concerned.

"The spell..." Kraken began weakly. "Whatever impurities I remove from the water have to go somewhere, so I have to take the pestilence myself..." He coughed violently as he finished, and his face was very pale.

Garland fumbled with one of the potions he had collected in the large house. "Here you go," he muttered, tossing Kraken a vial of medicine.

Kraken drank the cordial in one swig, spilling some on his face. "Thanks..." he breathed. "Didn't help much, but thanks..." He rose to his feet unsteadily, looking at his fine handywork. "I'll be fine... Let's go."

The two sloshed on in the now clean waters, approaching the source of the voices they had heard. The doors of the Returner hideout were broken down, and it was apparently too late. The Empire had come, and they were in the hideout. Several soldiers were ransacking the place, tipping tables and breaking chairs. Garland sheathed his sord, and let his cape fall over his arms and body, concealing himself. "Hey boys!" He shouted obnoxiously. "Looky over here!" The group of soldiers directed their attention toward Garland, who was fiddling with something under his cloak. When they had reached the ten feet mark, Garland threw back his cape, revealing a vial of purple substance in his right hand. He tossed it carelessly to a soldier, who fumbled and dropped it. It was a wonderful explosion. "I think I like being an Alchemist..." Garland said aloud.

Garland tromped purposefully through the hideout, looking for the main force of the attack. Kraken followed sickly behind, occasionally stumbling. It was in the main meeting room where Garland found a small group of Imperials, in the center of which was a young lady, whose back was to him. He drew his Light Sword silently...

"Alright, Imperial slime... payback time!"

"Holy Bahamut!" Garland exclaimed, as debris fell from overhead. Soldiers appeared out of thin air, and the situation became grim. He noticed a river of blood form beneath his feet, and the smell of death filled his nostrils. He ripped a vial from his alchemy belt, downed it in one gulp, and leapt into the fray.

Kraken leaned against the door frame, helpless. The poisons and grime of the sewer water had taken their mighty toll on him, and he found his legs a bit too heavy to move. All he could see was a great mass of colors, and vague shapes of men and women. Every second another shape would cease moving, as another warrior bit the dust. In the water fiends mind, hours seemed to pass. He could feel the cold sweat creep down his face, and he decided he'd better just rest there a bit...

Garland had never felt so invigorated in his life. Whatever he had drunk, it was helping him now. He had already run two soldiers through the stomach, and he was about to make three. As he plunged his blade deep into the Imperial's gut, his eyes were distracted by a vision of the rarest beauty. Standing among many of the dead, and many live soldiers, there was a woman. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life.

The woman stared back at him, equally entranced. Time seemed to grind to a halt. The soldier Garland had so neatly run through fell dead with a tremendous thunderclap, it seemed. Their eyes met, as two sets of crystaline pools, flooded with wonder and enchantment. As Garland began advancing toward the living angel, he saw, to his horror, a man cut across her upper back with a curved dagger. The world froze. The hall went red, the color of the angel's blood. As she fell, Garland sprang forward, with the speed and strength of a rabid beast. The man shouted a protest. "NO! I'm A Returner!" Alas, it was to late for the poor young man, as he recieved slash after countless slash to his belly and chest.

Garland knelt over the wounded woman. "Are you... are you alright...?" he asked, uncorking one of his many medicines.

"Why... yes..." The woman said, staring into his eyes. "I am now..." She took the medicine he offered, and the slash wound on her back closed into a scar. There was a long silence as the two looked into each others eyes, oblivious to the rages of war not five feet away from them. Finally, she broke the silence. "I.... I'm... Sascha..." she momentarily forgot that she was talking to an enemy. "Sascha DelAubre..."

Garland couldn't remember where he'd heard that name before, but it didn't matter now. "I'm Garland," he began. "Garland Ast-" he stopped, wincing at painful memories. "...just Garland."

"Thank you for saving me..." Sascha said faintly.

Garland's mind snapped to attention. "That's right..." he realized. "They hurt you! THESE BASTARDS SHALL PAY!" he shouted, readying his light sword. His eyes glowed a fierce and wild purple, as if a tempest raged in his head. Indeed one did, for he hair began to move, and his cape flowed as he made a number of quick sword strokes in midair. "AMAXSA ARDAFXT..." he began. The power of the spell he prepared caused his whole body to slowly lift into the air. "HAXTIO RONEFXT!" As he completed the power words, he made a giant slash with his sword, and held it aloft above his head. Light beams poured forth in all directions, burning designs in the wall and striking Returners and Imperials alike, until the entire room was bathed in a brilliant white destructive light, all except a small bubble in which were Garland and Sascha.

It took several seconds for the light to subside. when it did, wounded and dead men littered the area. Most were Imperial soldiers, but there were a good amount of Returners who didn't retreat in time to escape. Altogether, more than fifty men had been wiped out. Garland sheathed his sword and turned his attention back to Sascha. He helped her stand, and dusted her off. Both of them were indeed, a mess.

Sascha looked in the direction of where Kraken was sitting. Garland's eyes followed. Kraken was nowhere to be found. This didn't bother Garland, though. He had forgotten all about Kraken for the moment. "Can you walk?" he asked his angel.

"I'm not sure..." Sascha replied, staring into his eyes. Garland found enough strength to pick her up, light as she was, and began heading for a safer destination.

* - * - *

"HE WHAT?!" Kary shouted as she heard the news.

"Not so loud..." Kraken wheezed. "The Imperials might hear you..."

"How could he take on a battallion by himself?" Tiamat whispered irritably. "He'll be killed!"

"Even worse," Kraken coughed grimly.

"What is it?" Lich asked. He was getting a bit impatient.

"Come on, I've got a headache!" Tiamat whined.

"Yeah, out with it!" Kary demanded.

"Well..." Kraken began. It was getting a bit hard for him to talk so much. "Sascha was there."

"THE Sascha?" Kary asked. "Sascha the beast?"

Kraken nodded gravely.

"Has he been taken prisoner?" Tiamat asked urgently. She was getting cramped hiding in the shallow basement of the small house the fiends had hid in.

"Are they torturing him?" Lich asked flatly. He was getting cramped too.

"Are they doing horrible, unspeakable things to him?" Kary asked, getting a bit excited.

"Even worse..." Kraken breathed miserably. "He's in-" he was cut off by his own sneeze. "Oh... get me a handkerchief, would you please?"

"AARGH!!!" Kary shrieked. The suspense was just to much.

"Here, use my cape..." Tiamat offered. Kraken blew his nose loudly on the white linen.

"Thanks..." he said.

"WELL?" The other three asked in unison.

"Oh yes..." Kraken said, as if he'd forgotten what he was saying. "It's even worse than all that... He's in love." High over Jidoor, thunder boomed...

"Oliver, you IDIOT!" she yelled at the hapless lieutenant, who cowered in surprised fear. "You SAID you could find the central headquarters of this dump, and now look where you've gotten us! The sewers!" She smacked her fist against the cement wall for effect, then proceeded to utter a string of curses when the concrete didn't give way it. "Damn, damn, DAMN!" This was supposed to be easy... Rescue Merine from the clutches of the Returners, and... Her train of thought trailed off as she noticed her soldiers suddenly become tense.

"What? What is it?"

"Returners!" yelled one of them, drawing his sword. "Protect Lady DelAubre!" With this cry, the Imperial troops encircled her, forming a protective ring.

"Huh?" This was all happening so fast! She could hear the sounds of fighting, but couldn't see anything through her soldiers' backs. "What's going on?" she demanded. "Let me out there!" One of them turned his head and barked out a reply she couldn't make out. Unfortunately for him, his momentary inattention cost him his life as a Returner plunged a knife into his heart. Oh well,' thought Sascha, at least it saves me the trouble of killing him for insubordination...'

Through the short-lived gap created by the soldier's death, she caught a glimpse of the fray. Her troops, outnumbered, and exhausted from hours of walking, were on the losing end. The rebels seemed to be coming out of the walls!

Sascha made up her mind. This was a bad situation with potential to become much worse. It would require... a sacrifice. Not her own life, of course, but if her disobedient troops got in the way, well, she wasn't going to cry. She pushed her way through the ring of soldiers, most of whom were no longer in any condition to hold her back. There was, however, one obstinate fellow who had to be disposed of with a knife to the back...

Stepping forward out into the open, she surveyed the advancing Returners. Seeing her, most of them stopped dead in their tracks. They remembered Kohlingen, what had happened there... and who was responsible.

"It's her!" one of them yelled. "It's Sascha the Beast! Get her!"

"I don't think so, little man," she purred. "I had something else in mind... QUITRAL QUELULEAL!" She held her hands aloft as she spoke the words of magic, and was subsequently bathed in a soft green glow. The Returners looked at each other, puzzled as to why nothing had happened to them. Finally, one of them spoke.

"Hey witch!" he sneered, "looks like we're immune to your magic! You're gonna get it now!" With this threat, the frontal wave of rebels rushed towards her.

"Oh no you don't! QUEADOL MAGDOMILLA!" As soon as the words left her lips, a storm of sharp gems was hurled down from above on the fighters. Returners and Imperial soldiers alike screamed in agony as the sparkling missiles ripped into their flesh. Any that neared Sascha, however, disintegrated in a flash of green, deflected by the magical shield the Returners had mocked. "Fools!" she shrieked insanely, as the water at her feet began to redden. "See what happens to those who dare to defy the Empire! To those who dare to defy ME!"

When the hail of gemstones subsided, the front rank of rebels had been completely wiped out. The spell had also killed most of her own soldiers too, leaving only a handful of soldiers against about twenty Returners.

"Damn!" she cried. Why couldn't anything go right today? She was really staring to get mad. Well, she would show them something to remember; something to take with them into the afterlife. She would show them why she was the leader of the Empire! Taking a deep breath, she prepared to cast the spell that would send the remaining rebels hurtling into the Abyss... Evil Gate. But, as she opened her mouth to chant the words, she caught sight of something that stopped her dead. SomeONE, actually. It was a man, a Returner, fighting alongside a woman with disgustingly well-shaped legs.

Time seemed to slow down as she stared at him. He was dressed stunningly in a beautiful violet cape, and his long brown hair flew about his soldiers as he slashed at his Imperial opponent. The soldier in question fell as if in slow-motion. When his body hit the ground, it sounded like a thunderclap. The rebel whirled around, pulling his sword from the fresh corpse. His eyes cast around for a new target... and found hers. Sascha herself looking into his violet eyes and feeling something very strange... 'No!' she thought. Snap out of it, girl! This can't be happening! He's a... a... Returner!' But she couldn't look away. The stranger too, had dropped his defensive stance, and was staring back at her with an odd expression...

Then, suddenly, she felt a sharp pain at the back of her neck. She had been hit! She felt hot blood running down her spine, frightening and sensual. She sank to the watery floor, still unable to take her gaze from the entrancing stranger. As her world faded to black, the last thing Sascha saw was him running towards her....

"Akfek!"

"What is it?"

"Well, sir, I, being a scientist, am naturally very observant. I have noticed that you seemed troubled these days. I also know that we are currently winning the war but the heavy resistance the Empire is facing is cutting severely into its supplies and man-power. Surely you have noticed this, too. If the resistance gets any stronger, the war could go the other way. If we had just one weapon that was strong enough to do massive damage and small and mobile enough to work well in battle, it could end the war much faster resulting in a lower cost in supplies and soldiers. I have discovered just such a weapon."

Akfek smirked. This little scientist was always bold, forthright, and boastful. However, he had the virtue of being right all the time. Akfek decided that it could not hurt to listen to him.

"Very well. Tell me about it."

"After several weeks of work, I was finally able to decipher Cid's personal logs and have been going over them for the past few hours. I recently came across something that might be of interest to you."

Akfek's smirk faded and was replaced with something resembling a glare.

"Go on."

"Have you ever heard about the Magitek cyborg experiment?"

Akfek though for a moment. He remembered something about it, but not much.

"I had heard rumors about it a time or two. But it was a total failure."

Now the scientist began to smirk.

"Those rumors of its failure are not exactly true."

Afkek raised one of his eyebrows at hearing this.

"Does the name 'Victor Kaine' sound familiar to you?"

Akfek's eyes widened as he grew very attentive. Akfek had been under General Victor's command.

"Yes. General Victor was one of the most brilliant strategists the Empire ever had."

"Ahh, but do you know what happened to him?"

Akfek knew all to well what happened to him. He died shortly after saving Akfek's life.

***Flashback***

Akfek was in pain. He had been nearly killed in the attack. He should have survived that explosion, and he almost wished he hadn't. He just lay there, wondering how much longer he would live before the burning building would collapse on him. All of a sudden, he felt himself being lifted up and carried out of the building. He could not see who it was, and at the time, didn't really care. After he was completely clear of the building, he was placed on the ground. He looked at the one who had just save his life. It was his commanding officer, General Victor, who was already running back towards the building to get any other survivors.

"No! General! The building's going to collapse!"

General Victor ignored him. He was responsible for his troops and had to do everything in his power to save them, even if he died in the process. He ran into the flaming building once more. It was the last time he did so. Three seconds after he entered, the entire building fell into itself, leaving a huge, burning mass or wood.

"No!"

***End flashback***

Akfek looked down at the floor.

"He died in battle."

The scientist, wearing a huge grin on his face, shook his head.

"He didn't die. He's still alive."

Akfek's head popped up. He leapt from his seat, grabbed the scientist's neck, and hoisted him into the air.

"I am going to be VERY ticked if you are joking around with me."

The scientist was barely able to breathe, but was able to speak in a very whispered tone.

"If you put me down, I will tell you more."

Akfek released his grip on the scientist, who promptly fell to the floor. The scientist stood up, brushed himself off, the looked at Akfek, who was glaring him down like a trainer would do to a disobedient dog of his.

"As I was saying, he didn't die, but was severely wounded in battle. He lost his arms and legs in an explosion that occurred while he was rescuing some of his troops. Cid had developed a technique whereby he could turn any person into a Magitek cyborg. General Victor was a perfect candidate for this as he would gain new legs and arms. He agreed to participate in the experiment. It worked, but the process was slightly flawed. It left him mentally scarred and made him psychotic. From there the logs get very vague, but somehow he was deactivated until a way could be found to perfect the process. It never was. However, studying Cid's notes, I think I can repair the damage done to his mind."

Akfek gritted his teeth.

"You had better hope, for your sake, that you can."

"He would be the single most powerful weapon in your arsenal."

"Where is he?"

"According to Cid's notes, he's under the city of Vector, in a hidden lab."

"Very well. Get together whatever tools and manpower you think it would take to bring him here and re-activate him. Then double it. We leave in one hour."

The scientist nodded, turned around, and left the room.

"Where have you been all my life?" the young military commander sighed.

"Well, actually, first I was a couple of thousand years in the past. And then..."

"Well, nevermind," she interrupted. A crooked smile crept across her face. "The important thing is, you're here now!" With this, she grabbed him by the collar of his cape and kissed him full on the lips.

"Wow," mumbled Garland, when he was able to disengage his mouth, "I think I felt the earth move..." Sascha looked around, momentarily puzzled.

"That wasn't the earth! That was... the CEILING!" A loud rumbling, followed by a rain of mortar from above, confirmed her fears. "The bombing must've caused some structural instability! These tunnels are going to collapse! What are we going to do?" Her voice took on a panicky tone.

"We've got to get out, and fast!" Garland's statement was punctuated by the total collapse of the section behind them. "Run!"

Sascha was only too happy to comply, but it seemed that her legs were moving in slow motion, just like in her childhood nightmares. She couldn't run fast enough! She was going to die here, in this horrible sewer! Then, suddenly, she found herself face down in the foul water. Her foot caught on a crack in the floor. "Garland!" she cried out in terror, as another tremor shook the corridor. All of her fear dissipated, however, when she felt his arms around her.

"Don't worry, Sascha," he said as he picked her up, "I won't let anything happen to you..."

* * * * *

About fifteen minutes later, the two star-crossed lovers stood outside the entrance to the Jidoor Drainage System. The din of fighting could be heard, but only just barely, over the sound of Garland gasping for air.

"Are you all right?" asked Sascha. He couldn't help but notice how cute she looked when she was worried...

"Yeah... It's just these heroic antics... take a lot... out of me..."

"Oh! You're so sweet!" Sascha smiled adoringly. "But there's just one thing. I don't want you to think I'm jealous, but... um, who was that woman you were with?" Garland stopped panting and looked at his beloved questioningly.

"Woman? What woman?"

"You know," she said, staring at the ground," that woman. The one with the blue hair, and the... legs."

"Huh?" Then, it clicked in. He fell to the ground laughing. "You mean KRAKEN!"

"What? What is it?" Now it was her turn to be confused.

"Well," said Garland, wiping tears from his eyes. "I'm sure _he'll_ be glad to know he has such a nice figure!"

"Oh... oops."

At this point, their conversation was interrupted by a series of small explosions, and the sound of screams from close by.

"We can't stay here," stated Garland. "There are so many people around, no one knows whose side anyone is on..."

"You're right." Sascha seized his hands passionately. "Come with me back to Doma! You could have anything you wanted! And... we could be together..." Garland looked into her intense green eyes. He could see the deep longing in them, and knew his held the same emotion. How could he resist her?

"Well... Okay. But how are we going to get out of here without getting killed?"

"That part's easy," she replied with a mischievous grin. "I think I'll introduce you to a friend of mine.... Shade! Show!"

The air around them seemed to thicken with a dark fog. Then, out of the ethereal mist stepped a creature unlike any Garland had seen before. It looked like a small winged statue, carved of the darkest obsidian. It looked at him with burning violet eyes that seemed to radiate the essence of darkness. 'So this is where the Empire gets its power...' he thought to himself. Then, the strange creature spoke.

"You could have contacted me telepathically, Lady DelAubre."

Sascha smiled, which seemed to unnerve it. The Elemental's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I know," she said, "but I wanted to show you off. This," she motioned towards Garland, "is Garland, the love of my life!"

"I see," it said. "How very... nice."

"Anyway, what I need is for you to bring a message to the Defiant. Tell them to come to these coordinates and lower the hook. I seem to have lost my jetpack along the way..."

"I swear it shall be done, Mistress." With this, the small creature departed in the same manner it had come.

"Weird little guy," said Garland.

"Ah, you get used to him."

"So..where's the Defiant?" The sky, as far as he could tell, was empty. "They'd better hurry up, or we're going to be toasty oats..."

"Oh, they're already here," said Sascha, and that crooked grin appeared again. "You just have to know where to look... _Kravshera Amquildan!_ ShadowCloak, engage!" Darkness folded around the young couple, and Garland found himself for the first time in the realm of Shade.

"What is this place?"

"The Shadowlands," she replied casually, as if they were not in the plane of Eternal Darkness. "This is how we were able to attack the Returners by surprise every time. Look up." Above them was the fleet of the Empire. One of the ships, a sleek black craft, was angling towards their position. "Here comes the Defiant," Sascha continued, with more than a note of pride in her voice. "I can't wait to show her to you!" As Garland watched, the craft lowered a large hook down to the ground. "Now," said Sascha, as she grabbed the thick cord, "you just hang on to me!" At these words, Garland's spirits regained their former buoyancy.

"That," he replied, with a devilish grin, "will NOT be a problem!"

* * * * *

"And this is the Magic Missile Battery!" Sascha's arm made a grand arc, indicating a large sophisticated-looking machine. "And that concludes our tour!" she giggled. "So, what do you think?"

"She's an impressive ship, all right," said Garland. "But nowhere near as impressive as her commander..." He smiled winningly and put his arms around her waist. Unfortunately, his romantic overtures were interrupted by an all-too familiar voice.

"Umm, ahem, er, that is, excuse me, Lady DelAubre, but, ah, we, um, kind of need to know what your orders are..."

"Mason!" shouted Garland spinning around to face him.

"You!" spat the soldier, glaring at him fiercely.

"Oh good," said Sascha, "you two already know each other. Now, now, play nice! Mason, assemble the men on the lower flight deck, and I will dispense the new directive there."

"Right," said Mason tightly. With a final glare at his nemesis, he turned and exited.

"Oh well," sighed Sascha wistfully. "It would appear that duty calls. Shall we?"

* * * * *

Lieutenant Thomas Oliver stood impatiently on the flight deck, wondering why they couldn't ever have chairs at one of these briefings. Heck, he'd almost given his life for the Empire down there today! The least they could do was give him something to sit on. Looking around, he could see that the rest of the soldiers were equally uncomfortable. There were quite a few of them, too. Unlike some divisions, Defiant Squadron had been able to get out of Jidoor with minimal losses...His train of thought was interrupted when Commander Mason bustled in.

"Attention!" the officer barked. "Her Excellency, Co- Supreme Commander of the New Imperial Army, Lady Sascha DelAubre, has arrived!" After introducing his superior, Mason stood aside. Oliver craned his neck to get a better view of the C in C. He'd always thought she was a babe...But who was that with her? A man in a violet cloak. Why did he look so familiar? Wasn't he one of the...Returners?

"Good afternoon, loyal subjects of the Empire!" Sascha intoned. "You have indeed fought well today! Our main objective, the destruction of the Returner base, has been completed! With this in mind, we must consider our losses to be...acceptable. Your new orders, as well as those of the rest of the fleet, are now to recover all remaining troops from the ground, and return to base under cloak." There was a murmur of assent through the soldiers. "And now," she continued, "on a lighter note, I have someone I'd like to introduce to you. This," she motioned to the man at her side, "is Garland, my..." Here her voice took on a dreamy cadence. "... soul mate. He will be with us from now on. You will obey his orders as you would mine. That is all." With this, she took the stranger's arm, and left the deck. With her exit, a murmur of confusion spread through the ranks. A lieutenant next to Oliver turned to him with a questioning look.

"Who was that guy?" he asked.

"Beats the heck out of me..." answered Oliver, "but I think he might be... a Returner..."

Someone behind him spoke up. "She sure is acting weird. Not her usual nasty self...."

"If you ask me, I think she's been into the Romulan Mushrooms..."

* * * * *

"Oh Garland! Everything is working out so wonderfully!" exclaimed Sascha. The two were sitting on a sofa in her quarters, enjoying a late lunch. "Who would ever have thought I'd meet someone as perfect as you..."

"You're no slouch yourself, Sascha..."

"Mmmmm... This is going to be fabulous! With you at my side, the Empire will be invincible! We can rule the world together! It's so... romantic..." She looked up into his violet eyes, and sighed blissfully.

"I love you, Pumpkin."

"I love you, Honey Bunny."

Now all he needed was a good hearty breakfast of steak and Eegs, and he would be ready to take on armies again!

"What do you think, Kain? Steak and eggs for breakfast?" There was no answer.

Cecil looked across the room and didn't see anyone. Lola was gone, Kain was gone, and Omega was gone.

He muttered to himself, "Just like friends to leave for breakfast without me. Humpf."

In too good of a mood to think anything was wrong, Cecil spent the morning polishing his armor, especially the spirit-holding helm, boots, armor, and shield. Hours later, when the continually changing pearl/obsidian armor was pristine, Cecil donned it for inspection. He was impressive and imposing in the suit that made it hard for even himself to stare at to long, for one could never be quite sure what color it really was.

* * * *

Elanya gazed upon Cecil as he himself was looking in the mirror. Her scrying capabilities surpassed any detection or powers that mere mortal magic could produce. Which was very good for the plan she had in mind.

Raising her hand in a puppeteer's gestures, she guided Cecil's movements.

* * * *

Not realizing the thoughts were other than his own, Cecil started to wonder what had happened to his friends.

"Cerebratan, search for Lola, Omega, and Kain with you psychic scan."

"Sir Paladin, I... can't..."

"What do you mean you can't? You've done it before."

"Yes, but something blocks my powers."

Frustrated, but understanding the danger that could be present, Cecil spun into action, grabbing everything he might need to go searching for his friends. He was out the door as he snagged a large fur coat.

Outside was blinding, yet the wind had stopped. Good, he thought, wind burn sucks. He searched for signs of tracks, but there was nothing. Cecil's mind raced for probable paths any of his friends might have gone by, and finally his gaze took him to a impassable mountain. Not knowing why, he started to climb it.

* * * *

Elanya smiled as she guided the Paladin up the mountainside toward her dwelling. His father had visited her the night before, and their subsequent conversation brought her the idea of use this man of good so as to strengthen the cause of evil. He was too strong, this Cecil, for he had the knowledge of past times, battles, and evils.

To add to this, the forces of the Empire had just sustained a major blow from a former pawn of hers, the Scarecrow. For some reason... ahhh, she knew the answer now. Scarecrow possessed the Guardian Sword, which housed the only spirit that could hope to thwart her powers. Ironic, the the quite apathetic Elanya thought, for that sword should belong to the very one she now controlled.

* * * *

Cecil, somehow, had finished scaling the mountain, and he stood there shaking his head in disbelief. How had he done it? He looked around as if to find a staircase, but then his vision caught sight of a blurred building of immense magic. And, to his disbelief, he saw a shimmering staircase leading to its entrance.

* * * *

"Come in," said a voice in response to Cecil's knocking on the door.

The Paladin entered, seeing a beautiful woman: lithe, tall - nearly ten feet - silvery-blue hair, gray-blue skin, and a plain, white toga for clothes. He stammered to say something...

"No need. I can read your thoughts. In fact, I control most of them at the moment. The reason you are here is simple: the Empire's losing at Jidoor, and though I don't want you to turn the tide, I want you to gather the Imperial Army to pursue the Returners after they feel confident."

Cecil began to draw his sword, yet his mind waged war with his reason. It looked as though he was in slow motion, and as if the sword weighed hundreds of pounds.

"Ahh, perhaps if you had had the Spirit Sword, Guardian, you may have been able to stop me, but, oh well."

Everything went black for Cecil.

* * * *

When the Paladin awoke, his was standing in the middle of some city, swords clanging all around him. His mind was foggy, and the last thing he could remember was polishing his armor.

"What the F***! Where did he, whoever he is come from?"

"I'll bet he's one of them!"

"He looks pretty damn weak to me..."

"Get him before he can draw his sword, and we might be able to keep the Imp from escaping!"

A sword came slicing through the air towards Cecil's head. Any lesser solider would have been decapitated by that blow, even had they been prepared, but Cecil, with his expertise of the sword, or perhaps the sword itself, was able to parry. The obsidian blade cut clean through the attacker's blade, not stopping until it severed the arm the held it. With a swift back slice, the man's head fell from his shoulders.

There was a cheering from the Imperial ranks.

"Hey, that guy, whoever he is, just took out the Returners' platoon leaders!"

Cecil looked at the man he had just killed, and saw nothing more than a zombie's dismembered corpse. In fact, the army it had been leading was one of zombies. He then looked toward the man who had congratualated him, and saw nothing more than a farmer with a pick and a hoe.

"These farmers are being swarmed by undead, I've gotta help them!"

The Paladin ran into the Imperial soldiers' ranks. Behind him, the Returners, who Cecil saw as zombies, paused in disbelief.

"Hey, You people, follow me, I'll get you all to safety!"

Another cheer erupted from the Imperial ranks.

Turning around, Cecil charged into the zombie army, slashin this way and that. there was not a Returner who could even raise his sword for a parry as the Imperials followed through the break in the enemy line. With their Platoon leader dead, and some possessed man in chaotic armor slicing through them like butter, the Returners gave way.

"Don't worry about fighting them, we'll have our chance later. We've got to escape first!" Cecil's words carried through the Imperial ranks, and they cheered at their fortune.

Meanwhile, Cecil failed to notice the joy and elation the slaughter had filled him with, or the fact that his sword seemed to drink the blood he had spilled.

"Take a dose of Magitek power, old man!" A beam of thunder from the Magitek Armor dashed towards Arvis.

Arvis, although old, was pretty nimble for his age. He sprang to the side and the electrical beam blasted past him. "The younger generation these days... they just don't respect their elders like they used to."

The soldier, using the sheer strength of his Magitek Armor, took a swipe at Arvis. Arvis leapt over the swinging arm of the Magitek machine and thrust his sword into the control panel.

The soldier attempted to turn the Armor around but the controls didn't respond. By jamming the sword into the control panel, Arvis had successfully immobilized the Magitek Armor.

"Grrrr..."

The soldier glanced at the lower right corner of the control panel and noticed the words "Made in Figaro Castle."

"What!? I HATE these @^#$*% shoddy Figaran merchandise! Why am I always stuck with these older models?"

The soldier vigorously yanked the sword from the control panel.

"Hey! That's my sword!" Arvis bickered.

The soldier slashed at the old man. Arvis dodged to his right and evaded the attack. Infuriated, the soldier swung his sword again, but Arvis ducked. The sword sailed over Arvis, banged against a pole, and then snapped in half.

"Huh?!" Struck with awe, the soldier gazed at the broken sword that lay in his hands. He noticed the words "Made in Figaro Castle" on the blade. Enraged, he roared, "What!? ANOTHER defective Figaran product? Curse these Figaran goods!"

Arvis gasped. "Hey! You just broke my favorite sword! It wasn't cheap, you know. I bought that at Figaro Castle for 500 GP and that was before tax was added on."

"I guess we'll have to fight this one out with our fists, old man." The soldier clenched his fists together.

"What?! How am I supposed to fight you when you have all that armor on? I'll be punching a rock!"

"Huh?! How dare you compare me to a rock!... Fine. I'll take this armor off then. Either way... you'll still lose. HA HA HA HA... <hack, cough>."

Arvis attempted to comfort the young man. "You okay sonny? You look a little sick."

"I'm okay. I'm not sick at all." He flexed his biceps. "I'm... in excellent shape."

After the soldier had removed all his armour, he entered his usual combat stance. Arvis prepared for the ensuing fight...

A few moments later, a fellow Imperial trooper streaked past the two. He yelled out to his compadre who was ready to face Arvis. "General Renshield is missing and our lines are crumbling. Those reinforcements have really hurt us badly and several of our units have already withdrawn. I don't know about you, Taylor, but I'm getting out of here."

The soldier, named Taylor, stood quietly, examining his options. Arvis examined the puzzled look on the soldier's face.

"So, your name is Taylor. You're not such a bad fighter, Taylor."

For the first time, Taylor smiled at Arvis. "At your age, you aren't so bad either... Well, your friends will be here soon... I better go now or else I'll be outnumbered. See ya later, old man."

"Wait! Our fight isn't done yet!"

Taylor raced down the corridor and soon, he vanished.

As the strength and morale of the Returners grew, the strength and the morale of the Imperial forces weakened. Several units had already withdrawn on Lady DelAubre's command, severely hampering the Imperial Army. Without a General to lead the ground forces, the Imperial Army was disordered and in total chaos. The momentum increased for the Returners and the Empire was pushed further and further back...

* * *

"Sir, all Imperial soldiers within the base have been captured. All Imperial supply routes have been cut off as well. The main Imperial ground unit has fled."

"Good. Post guards at all base entrances. Order units 1 and 3 to remain on alert in case the Empire initiates any counter-offensive... Oh, and send my regards to all our reinforcements. Without them, we would never have won."

The lower-ranking Returner saluted Arvis and departed the room.

Outside, many wounded Returners and townspeople lay throughout Jidoor. They were tended to by the town's doctor and nurses. The Empire had been driven from the town and there was not a single Imperial soldier in sight.

Arvis rested against a window at Owzer's house, overlooking the town. The sound of fighting was absent now and only a slight murmur hung over the town. The old man breathed a sigh of relief. "It's finally over... peace... peace for today..."