Mog Chapter 16: Ruin --------------------- Mocha-ko ducked then turned, trying to avoid a nasty Magitek blast. She rolled back onto her feet, ready to make a break for it. But where was Mog? He wasn't close by like she had expected. She searched left. She searched right. As far as the eye could see, there were no moogles around; just row after row of Magitek Armor and Imperial troopers and more and more appearing right out of thin air. Where was Mog, Mocha-ko asked herself. She became frantic from not knowing, but standing there frozen like a Goddess statue didn't bring Mog back. She had to find him, and she started off by backtracking to where she'd last seen him, but when she turned around, a sharp snap jerked her head back. To Mocha-ko's horror, a Magitek Armor had snagged her by the reins. * * * * Farther away from the battle engulfing Jidoor, Mog had just narrowly escaped his own capture but now found himself facing yet another crisis. It had been a long time since he had gone 'icing' as it was called back in Elf Grove. It had been a long time since he had been back in Elf Grove. He used to be good at it when he was younger - about the same age as he was now. He used to zip across the crystal facade of Lake Wolf like there was no tomorrow. But things change. Today was not the same as yesterday. Today he slid across a similarly frozen lake, just as he did so very long ago, but today that lake did not contort itself into the guise of a wolf. Today the clouds were laden with snow, and the snow was everywhere, and more and more kept drifting down, but today was not a snowy wintry day as it had been yesterday. And most importantly, today Mog was breaking speed records left and right, speeds which he had only dreamt of when he was still a tike, but today he had forgotten to bring an extra heavy coat, his earmuffs, and a pair of skates, for today was not a normal winter's day. It was not like he didn't know what he was doing, but knowing what you were doing didn't necessarily mean you were doing it right. Mog swung his Pearl Lance out wildly. He no longer knew what he was doing. He had already eluded his Magitek pursuers, but he couldn't slow down. The thundering speeds he had built up gliding across the frozen lake refused to be tamed but bucked and kicked intransigently instead. His footing slipped in one direction; his lance lashed out in the other. Mog knew what was coming next, yet it took its time coming, and there was nothing he could do save panic. He slammed hard onto the ice, his teeth jarring together, a sonic boom rippling through his body. The impact shattered what remained of his already failing Dance. The ice became transparent as Mog bounced off it, and by the time he rose and fell for the third time, there was no substance left to the it anymore, and he fell straight through to the lake beneath. If he had been luckier, Mog would have held his balance just a while longer. Then he could have safely fallen into the embrace of a soft snowbank - he was that close to shore. Instead, the cold waters of the narrow lake sniped at his flesh like so many piranha. It was frigid, and autumn wasn't a good time of year to go swimming. Mog splashed around, trying to get back on his feet. All remnants of his Snowman Jazz had disappeared; there wasn't a single snowflake on the ground nor a solitary ice cube floating in the lake. His wonderful Dance was gone. Mog staggered ashore and slumped to the ground. Dark ashen clouds filled the distant skies over Jidoor. The city called out to him. But he didn't want to answer. He was frazzled, exhausted from an overextended Dance. He could have slept for a whole week. He was so tired. * * * * Kuma clutched the edge of the backpack. Magitek Armor weren't renown for their smooth rides, and Jen-Ren wasn't the best pilot. But Kuma didn't complain. He was just glad to be along for the ride. Like Jen-Ren, he too had never actually met a real-life moogle, and he was a bit nervous at the prospects - after all, he didn't want to be shown up by a moogle that could really walk and talk. And what if the moogle didn't like him or what if he laughed at him. Kuma didn't think he could take such abuse. He was one of the best made moogle stuffies in the world, and he knew he would always have Jen-Ren's love, but still he yearned to be more than a mere stuffy. Jen-Ren smiled reassuringly to Kuma. She herself was also riddled with nervousness, but she didn't want it to show. This was as close to a genuine moogle as she had ever gotten, and she was jittery with anticipation. But would she get there in time? Would the trail have gone cold as she bulldogged her way around the lake? Her Magitek Armor was running at full speed, and it wasn't enough. Jen-Ren was in a hurry, and didn't have time for lazy Armors. She pulled over by the side of the makeshift path, and dropped her Armor to a complete stop. It wasn't a good thing to do, and it normally tore up the engines into a million unusable parts, but Jen-Ren didn't care. She climbed down and crawled beneath the Armor's belly. She swiftly removed the underguard, then she reached in and disabled the governor from the main drive. The governor was used to prevent the Armor from exceeding itself, but Jen-Ren put speed above safety. She climbed back aboard, tossed her wrench in back, and restarted her Armor. Magitek flowed from the Core Pack and ignited the engines. A dozen red markers flashed on immediately, and Jen-Ren smiled. Now this was more like it. "Hold on, Kuma. This is gonna be a bumpy ride!" * * * * Despite his weariness, Mog forced himself to sit up. He had dried up enough so that his fur no longer clung to him. In his hands, he held the secrets to the past, present, and future. He fiddled with the thin glass tube - the kind that sometimes held a potion or an antidote and such - and brought it eye-level. At the very bottom of the tube was a minute trace of sand. It sparkled faintly still. It was all that remained of the Sands of Time, all that remained of his death and rebirth. Even now the Sands were dangerous. Kurune had risked her own life to scrape it off the floor. It was all the Sands of Time distilled in fire and purified into the few grains he now controlled. She had claimed that with her new Mysidian Shades it was safer than a chocobo ride, but Mog had known better. He should have stopped her then, but he hadn't. He should have thanked her afterwards, but it was too late now. There was no turning back the clock. Mog unstopped the vial, almost expecting a bright flash, an explosion, or even flower petals. He didn't know what to expect. Instead he got just what he should have expected all along - nothing. Not even a slight popping sound. Mog cried softly. A lingering scent of cinnamon overspilled the vial. He pressed it against his lips, tilting it ever so slightly. This was his elixir. He would drink it a drop at a time. He would lose himself where no one would find him. * * * * Things were getting worse and worse. Even Kuma could sense something was wrong. He had never seen all the gauges lit up at the same time, never heard the Magitek Armor choking so loudly. Jen-Ren pulled back on the controls and grumbled to herself as the Armor came to a halt. She popped open the canopy and jumped out with a repair kit in tow. "Stay put," she told Kuma. Kuma sighed. He had no plans on going anywhere anyway. He waited as Jen-Ren walked behind the Armor. What was she going to do, Kuma wondered. It wasn't like she knew anything about Magitek technology. He just prayed that she didn't blow them up. His prayers were answered by a tremendous *BOOM* that shook the cockpit noisily. Kuma lurched in his backpack and yelped. His ears hurt. Such an explosion must have carried all throughout the countryside. * * * * Somewhere between a dream and reality, a low thunderclap rolled through. Mog looked up. The skies looked as if someone had done a poor job painting the ceiling, and a demonic-looking airship had punched a hole through it all. Heavy smoke masked its tail, but the airship's nose could be seen angling downwards. It all looked so unreal. An even louder explosion erupted from the airship. Mog blinked a few times then looked at the vial in his hand. The Sands of Time. Why had he taken it out? Looking up in confusion, Mog gasped. Kupo, that's a huge dog, he thought. But what really unnerved him were the dog's eyes. They were so empty, so desolate. Mog tried to avert his gaze as hound's attention fell from the devastated airship. Licking a black paw then looking Mog square in the eye, it snarled. "I am Ruin, fourth among the Chaos Hounds," it stated. "I corrupt the souls of those who cross my path, so today you die." Mog's ears twitched, but he wasn't impressed - he'd seen a talking chocobo before, and Kefka had had better lines. He defensively pushed a foot back and reached for his Pearl Lance. "Looking for this?" Ruin stood up on all fours - he was even bigger than Mog had first imagined -- and picked up a Pearl Lance between it's teeth. "You dropped it when you fell in the lake," he explained. "It won't help you any, but I believe in a fair fight, such as it is." Putting the lance back down, the Hound nudged it with his nose. The lance rolled down the minor incline, hopping over pebbles and short clumps of grass. Mog was still perplexed, and though he questioned the Hound's motives, he wasn't about to refuse his own lance. He reached down to intercept the returned gift, then the ground darkened. Mog didn't even get a chance to look up as Ruin's fangs gouged across his face. He shot backwards, tripping and clamoring back to his feet only to trip again. Ruin snapped at Mog over and around a hastily thrown up Aegis Shield. He harried the moogle into confusion, barking wildly and pounding down on the shield. He saw the moogle stumble yet again, but this time there would be no getting up. Ruin lunged for Mog's throat. Even without his Pearl Lance, Mog would normally have given a good fight. He had never imagined winding up as dog food nor did he have any intention of doing so now. He felt his Aegis Shield connect and made a run for it. Ruin paused. The shield had only clipped his jaw. He could have pushed right through and disemboweled his reluctant prey, but he paused. The kill would be sweet - it always was - and he wanted sweetness to last. Ruin caught up to Mog in a single leap, digging his claws into the moogle's back and plowing the moogle's face into the dirt. The Sands of Time shot out of Mog's hand and pirouetted into a rock, shattering the glass tube into a thousand pieces. Wind rising off the lake swirled the Sands into a mist. Mog covered himself the best he could, but the Chaos Hound ignored the light spray. Instead, Ruin pondered the best way to taunt a moogle. The flobie or the wings? "Aren't moogle wings a delicacy somewhere?" he asked himself out loud. Pressing down harder on the struggling moogle, he bit down on the shoulder blades. Mog screamed. "Kupo! Step away from that moogle!" Ruin swung around and glared at an uninvited second moogle. Mog struggled to get a view of his savior, but all he could see was the outline of a chocobo. As he blinked away his tears, the silhouette became fuzzier. A pure white light burned through him. The Sands of Time seared into his flesh. * * * * Jen-Ren braced herself and Kuma as the fallen airship folded into the ground. She had always disliked those airships with their unnatural hum, but she never expected one to fall from the sky. The nose collapsed. Seams of light split open the hull. An expanding fire ball overtook everything in a brilliant flash. Jen-Ren turned away. There were... had been people on board that airship. She had been on a similar airship not too long ago. Now there was no one. There would be no survivors of such a violent crash. It began to dawn on her that this was what war was all about. It wasn't about securing peace, or winning honor, or even standing up against evil. It all boiled down to an excuse to kill. Everybody was out to kill everyone else. Jen-Ren squeezed Kuma ever so tighter. What kind of world was she growing up in?