Frequent visitors to this story may notice a slight difference in this opening summary. This is deliberate; the previous one was stupid and didn't fit in at all with the story. So it's been changed!

If you're reading this for the first time and thinking what a pile of junk it is, you're welcome to give me a really unpleasant review—just remember that this is my first story proper. I'm writing it mostly to draw together the elements of my storytelling, as I'm trying to put action, description and narration into one story. I'm hoping this will be a successful experiment.

This is a first-person story, written in the perspective of Irvine Kinneas, who has since the close of FF8 relocated to Balamb Garden. I should take this time to warn you—if you don't like military technology, action sequences or satirical narration, you should probably turn away.

This story isn't really inspired by Final Fantasy 8; instead, it's a culmination of other influences ranging through books, games and television. Fight Club's lethally paced prose inspired me heavily from the first time I read it, and although it has inspired a lot of my stories, my writing voice is mostly my own. This is intended to be similar to a film noir, drawing in influences from Sin City in the film world, and games such as Max Payne and Metal Gear Solid, to name a few.

Well, I hope you enjoy this, and make sure to comment whether you thought it was the greatest thing you ever read or a poorly written pile of crap.

P.S. I own nothing. Actually, that's not entirely true, I own the word "fuckpig" and all rights to it. I don't think I've used it yet, but I'll put the notice in just in case.

Chapter One

The computer-controlled climate in the training centre had begun to feel more humid in recent days. I had been on several visits there in the past week, often following similar attack patterns when fighting the enemies in there. Knowing Zell's penchant for clowning around with machinery, I wouldn't have been surprised to find that he had escalated the temperature to near-uninhabitable levels, cackling mischievously at his prank. And with the disciplinary committee, if they found any sort of discriminating evidence he'd be right down on the punishment red list and no mistake. But, I reminded myself, I was here to cultivate my battlefield skills, not to incriminate Zell, and so I readied my sniper rifle.

Metaphorically speaking, Balamb Garden wasn't a garden in any way, shape or form. Rather, it was a sort of military training academy where young people went to learn the skills needed to be full-fledged mercenaries. I joined Garden simply because it was part of my family's heritage—my father had enrolled there with flying colours, and naturally expected his solitary son to do the same. I adopted guns as my primary weapon, as I also had expertise in that field—again, acquired from my father. He took me out into the fields surrounding Balamb when I was younger, and it was there that I learnt most of my skills. He was an incredible shot—I frequently saw him hit marauding Glacial Eyes from as much as a hundred yards armed with nothing but a bolt-action rifle. These were the sort of skills which made your father popular to all your friends, and many of them pleaded him to show them the ropes of gunfighting. But ultimately, only I was patient enough to persevere with it.

From where I was posted, I had the perfect view of the bridge that ran along the small stream. I could see some bubbles rising to the surface—obviously the piranha were out in full force today. Quite why they decided to import those creatures from Besaid is beyond me, as the little bastards were notorious for attacking you even if you hadn't done anything to antagonise them. I made a promise to myself that if I saw one primed to attack another student, it would be acquainted with the business end of my revolver.

That's when I saw him. Seifer, that is. My arch-enemy. Grrrrr. Just seeing his cocky strut toward the bridge made me tighten my grip on my rifle. I quickly made another promise to myself—to erase the last one. It soon occurred to me that Seifer was completely oblivious to my presence, and for fun, I centred his smug face in my cross-hairs.

Yeah, that's right, I thought. You just keep walking that way. The more paces he took toward the exit door, the better, as he was swaggering directly into my line of fire. I was seriously contemplating killing him, I'm not sure why. I'd never had a better opportunity to do so. Watch your back, Almasy—I'm gunning for you!

At the precise point that I was going to mockingly pull the trigger, I noticed a Grat in the nearby undergrowth. Seifer was so absorbed in his own coolness that he didn't acknowledge it when it began advancing toward him. Shit, if he doesn't see it coming… So, peering down the barrel of the rifle, I was now faced with a dilemma that I never wanted—I had to kill a fiend to save the life of my ultimate rival.

Why is it always me who has to do this…

However, it wasn't like I'd been in Headmaster Cid's good books at any time in my seven-year tenure at the Garden. I don't think he particularly liked my attitude. I couldn't really care less about raising my SeeD rank, and I made it a primary objective to avoid all post-graduation assignments. For that, I was often C-listed for the important missions. So often that my only out-of-Garden excursion in the last month was a visit to my parents in Balamb. I was beginning to contract cabin fever, and I frequently wondered if I'd ever get out. So, I figured, maybe a good deed would change Cid's stance on me. Whatever, I decided, and jammed my finger down on the trigger. I heard the expended shell clink on the rough ground, and watched in awe as the bullet passed under Seifer's arm by a fraction of a millimetre, and slammed straight into the Grat's body.

"Who's the daddy!" I yelled, and began to do a victory dance. You see, that was probably my best ever shot. It's easy enough to shoot random monsters, but when you do it in such style, you just have to celebrate. The irony of the occasion didn't really occur to me at the time, as I was too absorbed in my triumph.

"Oh, so it's you," Seifer sneered. I could tell that he wasn't pleased at all that I'd just helped him out, and you certainly weren't gonna see me complaining.

" I'd have thought you'd do better there, Seifer," I grinned, basking in my glory. "Not like you to miss such an easy target."

"Hmmm," he grunted, and made his way toward the exit.

"Erm, the word's 'thanks.," I called after him. He made an obnoxious gesture with his hand, and I could tell that he was pretty annoyed about it. Stuck-up asshole. Had he been in the Training Centre a few seconds longer, he would probably have interjected with some smart-mouth comment about how he'd known it was there the whole time. No good getting irritated about it though, I realised. Maybe I was just fated never to be a full-fledged SeeD. I began deconstructing my rifle, and folding each component into the carry case. As I did so, the Garden intercom rang.

" Would student number 57290 please report to Headmaster Cid immediately. Thank you.. "

"Oh, great," I said aloud, "an audience with the head first thing on a Monday morning. That's all I friggin' need."

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

Being a person who didn't much like lifts, I wished for a long time that the consortium who ran the Garden would make some sort of investment in stairs. It all dates back to a unpleasant occasion in my youth, which I won't outline here, but I wasn't too pleased that nothing had been considered. By the time the lift reached the top floor, I was barging through the doors practically before they had even opened. Punishments are something I like to get over with quickly, anyway.

When I opened the ornate double doors which secluded Cid from the rest of the students, I was not surprised to see the headmaster lounging in his desk chair. I didn't usually see much of him; he rarely showed his face outside of assemblies, and only SeeDs on important missions saw him in person. Rumours had begun to spread that half of his face had become deformed, but only the greenest first-year students actually believed that. Cid slowly hauled himself out of his chair when he saw me. "Ah yes, just the person I asked for."

"I didn't do it," I quickly stated. Cid cocked his head to one side and examined me with a puzzled expression.

"Pardon me?"

"It wasn't me, sir. I claim no responsibility."

"If you don't want this mission, I could always give it to Seifer."

Boy, was that enough to make me shut up. No way was I gonna knock this opportunity.

"No, sir I'm fine," I jabbered. "Please, continue."

"As you've probably already guessed, I am going to deploy you on an important mission. I've looked through your personal achievement files, and I have to say, I'm not particularly impressed. Perhaps it's time you added a few extra sentences to your biography." Cid was regarding me with the sort of respect I hadn't seen in all my time here. Naturally, I just had to know what this was all about.

"At approximately 1900 hours on Friday, a group of Esthar soldiers seized some favourable positions in Deling City and the Missile Base. They did not state any sort of motive, but proceeded to engage in battle with the Galbadian Army's troops. After 27 hours of fighting, Esthar had complete control of the Missile Base and the inner city. A request for SeeD assistance was imminent, and President Edea made an official inquiry four hours ago. You will be travelling into the city with SeeD squad C, which will leave as soon as you are ready. Your position will not be on the front line—you are dealing with intelligence."

I groaned at this. What a surprise.

"As you know from your exam, if any other squad fails, your assistance will be needed in the mop-up procedure. Make sure you are fully armed, in case of emergency. Are there any questions about this?"

I stood there rigidly, completely silent. Maybe I should have let Seifer take this after all.

"No? Good. Go and get yourself ready, and don't be long. Dismissed." I slowly headed toward the doors of his office, and wondered why I always seemed to get the leftover scraps no-one else wanted.

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

Normally, when you graduate to SeeD, you get your own luxurious single apartment, where you're no longer hampered by untidy room-mates who never cut their toenails, or hog the shower for inordinate lengths of time, or cramp your space with all their clutter, or snore at night, or listen to loud, crappy music. Sadly, in keeping with my accursed disposition, I was unlucky enough to still share with the biggest slob on the continent. Due to a larger-than-ever amount of new graduates, space in the dorms was at a minimum, and I was one of those who had to remain in a double dorm. As soon as I strode through the door, I saw Zack seated at the table frantically leafing through a book on the history of sorceresses. As usual, his side of the dorm looked like the aftermath of an airstrike.

"S'up," I nodded to him as I passed through. His eyes lit up when he noticed me.

"Hey, you know, I never told you about me and that girl last night!"

"Save it for later," I told him. With any luck, "later" would become "never." Zack was, unfortunately, one of those guys who enjoyed bragging about his sexual exploits in the men's locker room, usually about how many girls he supposedly copped off with the previous night. Not being one of those types myself, I was beginning to get a little tired of hearing his ludicrous fables. It was all a load of crap, naturally.

"You gotta shoot off?" Zack asked. I showed him my twin pistols.

"Got a mission to go on," I informed him. "Nothing too flashy, just a bit of reconnaissance. You know I never get anything decent."

"At least you passed the written exam," Zack grumbled. "I gotta revise for the next three weeks straight just to get into the field exam! Knew I shouldn't have cut class that day…"

I inserted each pistol into leg holsters, and ensured I had enough ammo to start a new Sorceress War. I then selected an assault rifle, and looped the strap over my shoulder. To be honest, I thought I looked rock. After a lingering admiration of myself in the full-length mirror, I exited the dorm, tripping over various textbooks and folders on the way.

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

Okay, first chapter done! How did you find it? If you didn't like it, don't worry, it's going to get better over the next few chapters. And yes, I did make up most of Irvine's background—you'll find out how that ties in with his time in the orphanage in coming chapters. Be sure to read and review it—all comments welcomed, even the unpleasant ones. I need some laughter to warm me up on these cold winter nights.