Disclaimer: Full Metal Panic doesn't belong to me. This story wasn't made for profit. Blah blah blah... ON WITH THE STORY!


The barren desert was a tough place to live in. Harsh winds blew over jagged cliffs and dry, sandy dunes. Scorching rays of sunlight ruthlessly turn the land into a proverbial oven. The arid wastes deceive the unwary with their illusions until the reckless traveler wither away, mere husks after the vultures are done pecking their flesh away. It is an environment that forcefully applies the laws of nature. Each component of this land is attuned to what is essential: Survival.

It is hard to imagine people living within this wasteland. Yet, it is harder still to fathom that people also fight for these lands.

This is, perhaps, the reason why a certain mercernary is now in the area, trying to find an answer to this mystery. Driving a four wheel drive jeep, the man surveyed the rolling dunes with somewhat crazed eyes. The desert seemed to shift and move, like a living being ready to consume anyone who doesn't remain vigilant.

However, the man knows his trade well. A moment of inattention could cost him his life, so he maintained a watchful eye for anything. This is perhaps the reason why he instantly noticed a column of smoke rising from his left. The mercenary, deciding to investigate this curiousity, soon wheeled his vehicle towards the direction of the smoke.

Of course, it is common knowledge that when there is smoke, there is most certainly a fire.


Eyes of a Sinless Warrior

A Full Metal Panic altaverse fic by Fatherz


The fatigue clad mercenary soon arrived at the edge of a cliff, overviewing the vicinity of the smolder filled area. Though the sight would have been considered disturbing by some people, the battle hardened mercenary was non-plussed by what he is seeing.

Amidst the wreckage of vehicles and weapons, the landscape was also littered with the bodies of the dead. Craters pockmarked with shells and explosives blemish the yellow sands with streaks of charcoal black. Splotches of crimson and maroon stain the valley floor amongst the lifeless remains of combatants from both sides. Vultures circled overhead detecting the stench of blood while the bolder ones decided to land, and peck at the remains of the deceased, like the scavengers that they are.

The sight once again made him think of why anyone would bother to fight for this patch of dirt. Digressing into such unimportant matters, the man decided to survey the valley further. He noticed something peculiar in the carnage, an unlikely sight in this war torn landscape.

A boy... a mere child... piling some of the corpses into a burning pile. This action, in itself, isn't surprising to the merc. The way the boy shouldered a rifle didn't even make him bat an eyelash, he knew a few kids drawn within conflicts across the world. No, it wasn't any of those things that stood out, but rather it was whenever the mercenary would catch a glimpse of the boy's eyes.

Eyes that betrayed no emotion.

Eyes that held no conscience.

Eyes that perceive no wrong.

Eyes so full of innocence.

The battle hardened mercenary has never seen anything so... divine... in his life. He has learned to judge a person through their 'windows of the soul'. Most of those eyes he has seen were tainted by sentiment, principles, and sin that betrayed Man into being a creature of imperfection. This state of concern for those around Man has left him without worry for what is truly important.

And, to the mercenary, that one important thing is his proof of existence... his survival.

Perhaps this essential need to live is the reason people would bother to defend these lands. The desert has toughened the inhabitants to the point that certain necessities became absolutely unnecessary. It has become a... refuge... a barren Eden, of sorts.

In searching for an explanation to a mystery, the man was provided with a living answer.

The man, eager to meet a living proof of this kind of existence, decided to approach the boy.

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The soft taps of weather worn boots alerted the boy of an approaching person. Though his back was turned to the intruder, the boy already judged the distance between him and the other person. Not only that, he already laid out the best course of action in this situation. Perceiving the stranger as a threat, the boy began his assault.

The rifle hanging from his shoulder was too cumbersome to be swung and fired, and the interloper has a higher chance of reacting first and filling the boy with hot lead. The youngster decide to quickly toss his rifle aside, hoping to distract the enemy for a moment. Dashing swiftly in the opposite direction, the young lad then simultaneously pivoted towards the unfamiliar man while unsheathing a small knife. The stranger just about unholstered his pistol and adjusted his aim, but that was all the moment needed for the boy to roll in the dirt and mount an attack. The boy hoped to stab the man in the groin inflicting maximum pain, but things didn't go as planned.

The stranger brought his knee up, knocking the knife from the boy's grip. The larger man tried to club the agile boy with the butt of his pistol, but his opponent caught the object in his grip. Both adversaries struggled for control of the weapon; however, the stranger overpowered the child, shoving him away.

The boy didn't bother to resist then, as any advantage in the situation shifted on the favor of his larger foe. This enemy is physically stronger, and has a benefit of a weapon. He's also obviously well trained in combat, with skills that probably exceed those of himself.

Though the stranger has a clear shot, the boy was curious that the man hasn't pulled the trigger yet. So the young lad bided his time and merely crouched on the dirt, all the while keeping his eye on the foreigner in case he makes a mistake.

A mistake that the boy won't hesitate to capitalize.

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The mercenary was once again mesmerized by the young warrior's eyes. A shining gray in color, the man observed, now that he was closer; and untainted by any emotion.

Those eyes staring at him reminded the older man of a fierce tiger, ready to pounce at any moment. The analogy didn't go unnoticed, as the hired gun saw first hand the fighting prowess the child displayed earlier. The mercenary decided to approach this matter cautiously. Of course, he'd always take precedence with his own life.

"Hey, take it easy kid." the merc tried to talk down the child, however he still kept his gun pointed toward him. His voice sounded rough and callous, and probably agitated the young fighter further, a testament to the violent, take no prisoners lifestyle of the hired killer. He felt like he's dealing with a cornered animal.

The mercenary merely sighed when the juvenile soldier indeed tensed at his words.

"Look, I'm not here to kill you, but you'll be really forcing my hand if you keep up this act. I suggest you calm down if you don't want a bullet between your eyes." the man stated dangerously. No matter how he slices it, his words would still turn out to be threatening.

"What happened here?" asked the foreigner.

The kid remained stoic and unflinching. Truth be told, the mercenary didn't need any answers for that question, he only needed to ask it to make the kid lower his guard. His patience was being tried though, and the mercenary wasn't known for his patient behavior.

The man fired his pistol at the little boy, the report of the gun echoing in the valley and scattering birds into various directions. However, killing him was the farthest thing from the mind at the time.

The bullet grazed the boy's cheek, drawing a line of red that began to trickle with blood.

Though, ordinarily, people would have at least flinched from the gunfire, the man was astonished that the boy still kept his composure and didn't so much as blink thoughout the exchange. The man's respect for the child increased further at this development.

The many surprises that the kid kept making an impact on him made the hired gun chuckle. Soon, the chuckle increased in intensity, until it finally resounded into a full blown, maniacal laughter.

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It was perplexing for the boy to hear the crazy man laugh at nothing in particular, while having a gun pointed at his face. His enemies would just get it over with and kill anyone at gun point.

The peculiar behavior of the stranger made the young fighter forget his earlier commitment of charging the enemy when given the chance. This momentary lapse in judgement allowed foreigner the prospect to continue speaking, after his mirth finally subsided of course.

"That's some guts you displayed kid, standing up to me, not flinching when I shot you. Heh." the mercenary finally lowered his gun before continuing.

"I'm not here to hurt you boy, I was just passing through. The smoke around here made me curious. And with good reason, it seems." the unfamiliar man took out a cigarette and lit it.

Though the stranger has his guard down, the youngster had a sliver of doubt, if the man in front of him is indeed an enemy.

"Must've been one hell of a battle." the foreigner said before blowing a wisp of smoke. "Hey, can you even talk, kid?" the mercenary asked.

The child merely gave an imperceptible nod. The action annoyed the soldier of fortune a bit, but he controlled his temper.

"Che, so what's your name then, kiddo?" the merc asked in an impatient tone.

Where that sliver of doubt preceded, another sliver -this time trust, soon followed. The young lad decided to talk to the man.

"I... have no name." the boy started. The hired gun noticed him looking around the field -the place of those who have fallen- while he was speaking.

"But my... comrades..." continued the lad, unsure with articulating his words properly. "... refer to me as... Kashim." the child finally finished in a cherubim voice.

"Hmph. I see." the man blew more smoke before asking another question. "Are they all your comrades?" refering to the pile of corpses being burned.

"Yes." Kashim simply answered.

Judging from the remains of the clothes those bodies once bore, as well as the child's garments, the mercenary concluded that they were part of a resistance from the Russian invasion.

The stranger finally dropped the spent cigar, blowing one last puff of smoke. He decided it was a good time to introduce himself.

"My name... is Gauron. And let me just ask you this." Gauron stepped closer to Kashim. This prompted the young warrior to once again take precaution. Gauron stopped a few meters from the boy before crouching in front of him. His gaze seem to pervade throughout Kashim's being, delving deep into his thoughts.

"Do you think... you have a future here?" the question surprised the boy though it was relatively simplistic, yet somewhat vague. However, Kashim wasn't able to think of an answer to the inquiry.

"Heh. Didn't think so." Gauron smirked when the boy didn't reply after a while. "Well then, do you think it's necessary for you to stay here?"

"My comrades need... I'm needed in this place."

While Kashim was able to give an answer this time, his response lacked any sort of certainty. Gauron took this opportunity to assail him with further doubts.

"Do you really believe that? Look around you. Everyone you've known here is dead. What purpose do you have then? Are you really standing up to your own convictions?" the barrage of questions raised various doubts within the young warrior's impressionable mind.

"I..." the child started to affirm his decisions. But the older man started to make sense in some way.

Gauron noticed the luster -that beautiful luster- in the boy's eyes starting to fade. No! He won't allow that spark to disappear, such magnificence should not be so easily lost. Gauron finally decided it was time to strike the final blow.

"What... do you really want?" asked the mercenary to the confused boy plaintively. Gauron was pleased when that gleam in Kashim's eyes slowly returned.

"I just..." the young soldier replied uncertainly at first. But soon that assertion in his eyes returned, stirring his spirit into life.

Gauron anxiously held his breath, waiting for that moment the boy would realize his true importance in the grand scheme of things. Few people have ever had a chance to do so, those rare few only grasping it when they are in the brink of death. To see this comprehension play itself out in the young one's eyes, well, it was worth more than any riches the mercenary could aqcuire in many lifetimes.

"I just... I want to live!" the child-warrior's voice resounded throughout the valley, striking at the core of Gauron's very being.

Gauron took a few moments to catch his breath. Kashim looked like he was doing the same thing, albeit looking more strained than his older counterpart. His eyes were not only determined now, but were also unfocused.

A crazed grin broke out of Gauron's face for a moment, unnoticed through Kashim's haze filled orbs.

"Heh. A good answer. That's a very good answer." Gauron approached the unsettled boy slowly.

"You wish to live, yet it isn't really necessary for you to... 'live here', right?" the words rolled smoothly off the mercenary's tongue.

Kashim took a moment to ponder the man's question. Amidst his confusion, the older man's words seem to make sense in some way, and pretty soon the young fighter was inclined to agree with him.

"I guess... you're right." Kashim whispered, more to himself instead of an answer to Gauron's question.

"There is a larger world out there... for you to thrive in, boy. You don't need to confine yourself in this miserable place." Gauron explained to the naive youngster.

The little boy's attachment to the place was rooted very deeply, but Gauron was slowly severing this connection through his machinations of the lad's immaturity.

"You may continue do what you wish, but... just not here. Your future here is bleak." the mercenary persisted.

By now, Kashim was silently contemplating the options that the mercenary provided. Indeed, the boy knew very little else other than the violent lifestyle he had been living, but abandoning it seem to somehow make him... incomplete... left without function. However, the stranger said he wouldn't deprive him of his purpose.

"This... is what I am used to." Kashim began. "I don't want to leave this place because I wouldn't know what to do then. I'd feel... worthless."

"Well then... why don't you come and join me, see what we can do about that?" Gauron said while holding his hand out for Kashim to take. "You won't find out 'til you try, right?" the older man had an arrogant smirk on his face, fully confident with his declaration.

Kashim looked at the hands the foreign man is holding out to him. It represents stepping into the unknown; a drastic change for something else, something which may potentially destroy him, or elevate him to greater heights. It is a risky gamble, and his fate is ultimately in the hands of the person he is facing now.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kashim finally made his choice. He took a small step forward, then another, until he reached Gauron. He reached out his small hands onto the larger man's palms.

No words were exchanged, each understood the meaning of their action. Gauron, for a split second, gave a genuine smile for perhaps the only time in his life, satisfied with the decision the boy made. Finally, Gauron released the young lad, and stood up to return to his jeep.

"Let's get going, then." Gauron stated with finality, before heading towards his vehicle.

Kashim nodded, and followed a step behind the mercenary. He gave one last look at the valley he is leaving behind. A few tears shed itself, puzzling the young lad, never having expressed such deep emotions before. The landscape soon disappeared in a haze of dust, forcing Kashim to look forward.

Forward into his own future.


Author's Notes: I'm neither a philosophy nor a psychology major, so forgive me if my philosophizing (Is that even a word?) doesn't seem to make sense, or if I didn't grasp Gauron's and Sousuke's psyche wholly (read: OOC). Also, do forgive me if the story pace is fast; to me it felt like it. Obviously, Sousuke joins Gauron in this story (hence altaverse, duh!), and thus deals with certain... possibilities... that this path takes.

It was hard to turn that brief scene of "Gauron seeing Kashim's eyes" (FMP: The Second Raid, 2nd to the last ep methinks...), into a whole story without having specific details and circumstances, and then altering events to create another path, but here it is. Of course, I took a lot of liberties in creating this. :P

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this story. Submit a review; if you have any comments, suggestions, criticisms, corrections, etc.