A/N: Forgive me for any mistakes and errors found, it was a rushed job I must admit, so I've yet to proof-read it. I would also like to thank DarkNoct93, who is actually well-versed in the 'Tekken Lore',for his help. This story contains violence, sexual situations, strong language and the occasional morbid humour. Some artistic liberties have been taken.

The cover art does NOT belong to me, I was only lucky enough to find it. It's by Jacky Lau.

A long groan broke the silence as large plumes of dust particles settled down; a lone silhouette was barely visible in the backdrop. A shaky hand rose and reached out, trying to grip something in an effort to get up. Clutching on to a piece of rubble nearby, pale fingers left a trail of blood.

Finally, with great effort the figure crawled out of the pile of rubble, barely being able to carry the weight of his body around. After what seemed like an eternity climbing up the slope of debris—chunks of concrete and what looked to be the wreckage of motor vehicles, the man slumped down onto the mouth of the crater, trying to relax his sore limbs which were screaming at him. Signs of toil glistened on his body under the evening sun.

Gingerly, he picked at what remained of his finger-less glove; the burnt leather falling apart at the briefest of tugs. He's clothes fared no better—tattered and charred for the most part. The jacket sleeve on his left was torn at the seams. The vestiges of his sleeve, hanging barely by a thread, exposed his toned upper biceps.

Upon inspection, he had found the source of his agony. His hands were speckled with numerous cut, a long gapping cut on the cushion of the palm on his left, stung with a vengeance like someone had poured lemon juice or sprinkled salt on it. Gravel and dust particles had gotten into his wounds causing it to sting, he'd better clean it lest he risks an infection.

The light evening breeze only made it worse as his many scrapes started throbbing and tingling in the open air. A sharp hiss passed his parted lips when he adjusted to look around—his clothe rubbed a bruise or two somewhere, he failed to hide his grimace. He could taste the familiar bitter copper in his mouth, spitting out, the vermilion painted the gravel near him.

Heaving a sigh, he ran his right hand through his hair. It was a wasted effort as the dark locks fell back plastering on his sleek forehead.

He had overestimated himself. Though he wasn't to be faulted—he'd only pulled it off the first time thanks to an external force. The teleportation this time, naturally, drained him; consuming the last dregs of magic to materialize and stabilise an ill-prepared portal. The portal opened in mid-air and he was flung out of it. It was only when he felt the endless cold biting rushes of air against his skin, the furious whipping of his ebony locks and the relentless whooshing of wind against his eardrums did he realise he was plummeting to his increasingly plausible death.

Manoeuvring around, he was finally able to see himself plunging through the stratosphere and towards the hard solid ground.

If it were any other occasion, he'd have taken the time to acknowledge and appreciate the surreality of the situation—falling through the clouds, the weightlessness and the frailty of life itself. As much fun as it was to evaluate the meaning of his life, his untimely death would've been a real inconvenience (a pain in the ass so to say), especially when he'd left a kingdom and it's people kingless. Today was not the day he would die; too many things had been left undone to just let it all go. They were waiting for him.

It was the crystalline wall he had summoned at the last minute, exhausting what remainder of his magic, that had saved him from the fall. The impact was brutal; the outer layers of the crystalline shell shattering first as cracks eagerly dug their way deeper into the centre.

Despite initially being encased in his crystal, the majority of it shattered away like glass fragments leaving him exposed. His half-assed shield only served to break the fall.

Crystal fragments and rubble encrusted his arms and legs. Due to the hard and compact nature of his crystal, it made for the worst shock absorber. He had felt it to his core—the shock waves rattled his bones. The whole impact left a sizeable depression on the ground.

Stretching his arms, he gritted his teeth. His joints still ached. He didn't have any potions with him. In his haste to help his friend, Lars, he hadn't taken into account to stock up on his supplies...or the lack of it for that matter. It was a mistake he was willing to admit but if only his friends weren't badgering him.

After he'd received the call, his friends were onto him like fish to bait. At one glance, they had known the identity of the mysterious caller just as he stepped out—the small smirk and the excitement glinting in his eyes did help too. Instantly, before he could even acknowledge them (his attention was solely on his phone), they had cornered him. Albeit hesitantly, he knew there was no escaping, he budged at their ceaseless prodding and gave in.

'You guys remember Lars?' Scratching the back of his head irritably he continued, 'Yeah, well he called in for a favour'.

After a brief explanation of Lars' unexpected request, there was a mild pause as each of his friends had an indiscernible look plastered on their face. His brows furrowed, he didn't like the look they were giving him.

Before a word could be said, each one of them stepped forward to volunteer, deeming themselves to be fit for the task. He had gaped at them but recovered fast enough to deny them. This was a great opportunity for him to take a break and he'd be a fool to pass that chance.

So he took off, no plan in mind; and that was how he found himself in this situation. In hindsight, he shouldn't have been that reckless.

Sighing again, he stood up on shaky legs, patting away the dust. He decided he would take account of his wounds at a later period, at least after he'd gotten an idea of where he had ended up in.

Squinting ahead, far of in distance he could see a cityscape bordering the horizon. He could probably get some information there and hopefully some first aid.

Cracking his neck, Noctis walked forward.

The entire room bathed in the eerie red glow. The hum of the computers was accompanied by the frequent clatter of booted feet as each soldier hurried to fulfil his task to avoid the wrath of their boss. The employees came in with arms stacked with a pile of reports before hurrying back out. They worked in haste, discussing among themselves about their findings; though their murmur was drowned out by the blaring of alarms. They had gone off exactly ten minutes ago and had been blaring away ever since.

The cause of this commotion—a sudden fluctuation of spiritual force in the atmosphere, specifically in the region bordering the outskirts of the northern city.

A huge screen hung above showed a graph with an exponential growth before a sharp drop, like the entire spiritual force dissipated in thin air. The men gathered around a long table with a holographic display stretching the length of it. It displayed the topography of the entire outskirt. What stood out was the glowing red dot, indicating the location where the anomalous force had appeared and nothing else.

For all talks about the state of the art technology catered by Mishima Zaibatsu, none of the machines could find the source of this large spiritual force; each citing it 'Unknown'. The soldiers fuzzed over their meagre results as they doubled their efforts, hoping to get some scrap of information. The could almost feel the frosty glare aimed in their direction.

A lone red eye glowed ominously behind them. Seated above in a big chair the figure painted a picture of a looming mountain, commanding attention; but ironically no one was willing to face him.

Kazuya gripped the leather armrest, his nails digging into the plush material. He was anxious, an emotion he was not familiar with. His men were surprised to find out that the anomaly had brought even him unrest, but they were wise enough not to comment on it. He, on the other hand, was completely frustrated at his men' incompetence. Not a single one of them could give him the answers he needed.

What had put him on the edge was the fact that they could not pinpoint what had caused this. The spiritual force detected was of a high magnitude and for it to disappear just as suddenly raised too many questions.

His tumultuous brooding lingered on his elusive target—Jin Kazama. Having had Heihachi defeated, finally, he was the last obstacle standing in his way. Someone who did not know when to give up but a hard-bitten opponent nonetheless. Had he by some chance come across some greater power?

Heihachi was, without a doubt, a formidable foe; not one to be taken lightly, it took him decades and having to sell his soul to the devil to defeat him. Liberation. That was what he had felt. A sense of deliverance overwhelmed him as he watched the last breath leave Heihachi's mouth. It had been reinvigorating.

But Jin was a different matter altogether. One that he would deal with when the time came.

Gripping the armrest tighter he could almost feel the leather caving in. "Sir?" He was pulled from his reverie and he turned to the voice. Glowering at the soldier, he nodded his head lightly, gesturing for him to continue. The man hesitated a bit before continuing.

"Sir, we have found small traces of the spiritual force, similar to the one before. It seemed to be moving from the focal point''.

Taking in what he had just heard, he closed his eyes momentarily before opening them again; the red eye glowing much more fiercely.

"Prepare the Jacks''.

His boots chafed as he trudged his way towards an abandoned bus stop; it looked to be on the verge of falling apart. Half the roof of the shelter had caved in as a result of a large boulder resting precariously on top of it. How it'd ended up there was beyond his notion.

'Faauck,' he breathed out, his joints popping as he slumped down on the only functional bench. The bench creaked under his weight but he couldn't care less.

The town was much further than his eyes had let own and it had taken him longer to reach it—he was still drained off of his magic. No magic, no warping. That was the long and short of it. Noctis found it bizarre that his body was taking its time to replenish it, like a small trickle filling a well. He'd shrugged and brushed it aside, not thinking much about it, blaming it on his exhaustion. It wasn't like he had his potions with him.

Though, there was one other problem. Patting his pocket, he was immensely relieved when he'd located his phone only to find out a crack running diagonally along the screen. Somehow his phone had managed to stay intact throughout the whole ordeal, which he was greatly thankful for, but after pressing the power button furiously he'd lamentably came to the conclusion that there was no charge. Contacting Lars, his only contact out here for that matter, was now out of the question.

Truly lost and having no idea where in Ifrit's arsehole he'd ended up in, Noct settled on walking towards the nearest settlement—which happened to be an hour's journey on, one limping, foot if the position of the sun had been anything to go by.

Honestly, his luck was just that amazing; he only wished it didn't stay that way for long.

Licking his lips, he tasted the sweat and dirt collected above his cupid's bow. Noctis surveyed the area around him. It almost looked like a hurricane had torn up the city. Chaos littered the streets. Cars and buildings burned away. Thick black plumes of smoke reached the sky. The stench of burnt rubber and something else entirely indiscernible permeated his nostril.

A nearby pipeline that had burst gushed water, flooding the nearby vicinity; the puddle reaching far enough to lick the soles of his shoe. Most of the buildings were barricaded—metal shutters pulled down and windows boarded with plywood; there was no way in unless he broke his way in. Holes ranging from small to big perforated every other surface, the buildings, tarmac and pavements with visible marks of gunpowder residue decorating it. Somewhere ahead he'd heard the incessant buzzing of electricity, the wires of a power line had touched and sparks were flying. He took a mental note to avoid that path; the last thing he needed to add to his list of slowly growing misfortunes was getting electrocuted. Not today, not ever for that matter.

He could see in the distance some of the buildings had been fully destroyed while others partially so, with their reinforcing steel exposed. Debris still rained down—the destruction seemed evidently recent. But what really stood out in the mass destruction of the entire town was how some of the infrastructures where cleaved cleanly through, like a hot knife through butter. 'What could have possibly done that?' He briefly wondered if he even wanted to know the instigator of this carnage.

He was not naive enough to believe there were no casualties, though he had yet to come across any bodies. It was beyond strange. Did the civilians escape before the destruction even took place? If it was a mass evacuation, it would mean they had prior knowledge of this disaster.

'They probably abandoned the town'.

It did make sense—a 'civil' war of some scale had taken place here and it made sense that there'd be no one left behind.

"So much for asking for help," Noct muttered under his breath. He wasn't in any dire need of medical attention. Much of his deeper wounds were starting to heal and the tiny lacerations scattered throughout his body had all but disappeared, leaving behind faint pale scars. It wasn't as fast as using potions but his naturally fast healing, thanks to his Lucian blood, had kicked in and only the sprain on his right foot hurt.

Sighing, he got up deciding to scout the area. He did need to make contact with Lars one way or another and dawdling was only delaying it. There ought to be something he could use—maybe a serviceable payphone, or some kind of street sign or guideposts informing him about his whereabouts.

He'd almost concluded he had wandered into a ghost town…if it weren't for a low murmur of voices. Rounding the corner hastily, heedless of his injured ankle, he came across a group of…survivors? There were at least eight of them, all adorning mismatched garbs and more prominently, they were all covered in grime and filth. Like they'd just crawled out from a ditch. Soot caked most of their faces, making them indistinguishable from each other.

The group too distracted 'salvaging' hadn't even noticed him approaching. They were facing a storefront, with its glass window broken into. They seemed to be in haste—grabbing whatever they could and dumping them into a worn jute sack held out to them.

Upon seeing his reflection on the glass panel, one of them dropped the sack, its contents spilling, as he backed up into his companion none too gently. His buddy turned to him, thick brows furrowed, ready to give him a piece of his mind when his eye landed on the King. Mimicking his buddy, the man took a few clumsy steps back, pointing at him with a grimy finger; his jaws slack as though he'd seen a ghost. This had seemed to get the groups attention.

Noctis hesitantly raised a single hand, meaning to greet them, only for the group to drop whatever they were doing and scatter. Dashing across the street, each of them jumped straight into an uncovered manhole that he hadn't noticed before. The slowest of the group tumbled over his legs and fell awkwardly on his butt. As Noctis crouched to give him a hand, the man quickly shuffled backwards only for him to freeze entirely and his eyes to widen—pupils dilating in fear. He wasn't even focused on him anymore, instead, he gaped at something behind him, head tilted back. The King quirked his brow at this.

"Hey man, you-"

The low whirring reached him first before a huge shadow draped over him, obscuring the sun. The familiar silhouette of wings, spanning across the street, gave way the identity of the source of the sound. Craning his neck over his shoulder, Noctis watched as a huge aircraft flew above him. As it came closer, he could finally gage the size of the aircraft. Much larger than a commercial plane, the airplane looked more like a cargo plane. There were symbols imprinted on the sides of the craft but looked more like a white dot at that distance. Before he could assess further, the rear door of the cargo plane opened revealing its contents.

"What…is that?" Noct mumbled under his breath, squinting his eyes curiously to get a better look. There were many of them, or at least it looked like many, stacked one after the other. All of them similar looking and of the same built. It looked to be an army of clones? The 'army of clones' instantly got into formation and without much hesitation base-jumped from the aircraft; without the aide of a chute. It almost reminded Noct of the Imperial dropships that deployed the perpetual army of Magitek troopers in midair.

"Ja..Ja..JAAACKSS!" The clumsy man, that had initially been long forgotten, shrieked. Pointing a shaky finger at the small army, the man hastily got up on his fours and all but scrambled and dived into the manhole; even going as far as to replace the manhole cover. "Jacks?" Noctis spoke up, turning his head back to the aircraft, completely bewildered by what he had just seen.

Noctis watched as the first of the supposed 'Jacks' landed a few feet away from him. Their landing formed a depression, the road caving in under the pressure. He unconsciously took a step back as the waves of reverberation met his feet. He'd almost felt the weight as the clones landed one after the other, like fusillading missiles, bombarding the ground. A quick glance told him the small unit that had gathered before him had a strength of eleven.

The strange man's sudden outcry had gotten him slightly perturbed and apprehensive. What had warranted such a strong reaction? Looking at the Jacks more closely, Noctis had a slight inkling as to why. Up close he could clearly see they loomed above him—their gargantuan size dwarfing him. Their bulking figures standing much, much bigger than Gladio, ripped with unnaturally bulging muscles. Clad in regular military fatigues with a lightweight armoured vest, they stared at him, without having the need to blink even once.

What stood out was their sectionalised skin with glowing radioactive green veins branching throughout their body. Where they even human? Apart from the humanoid head topped off with a Mohawk coiffure, they almost seemed like robots.

"Baadd," its bionic voice interrupted his musing, mildly surprising him.

"Wha-"

Before the words could fully leave his mouth, one of the clones rushed at him, throwing a punch, aiming for his head. Acting on instincts, Noct dodged the blow, its hand grazing his right cheek. He could feel a cut on his cheek as a small trickle of blood rolled down. The Jack had gotten him by surprise; despite its massive ill-proportioned body, it was much swifter than he'd anticipated.

The next punch came quickly and he narrowly escaped by backflipping away from it. The jab grazed his left leg just barely, only making contact with his pellucid afterimage as he phased away to safety. The Jacks seemed to possess a long arm span and he made a mental note to remember it unless he wished to lose a limb. Each blow packed a punch—he could feel the whiplash of each jab.

Back on his feet again, Noct took a deep breath to evaluate its next move. It seemed almost mindless as it rushed in for another attack. This time a lower jab aiming for his ribs. But Noct easily navigated out of its reach, dodging to the right before summoning his great-sword and swinging it, trying to hack off its head from behind. The sword instead made contact with its upper torso but the swing was not powerful enough to cut it clean—having lost a bit of momentum while dodging.

Not having enough time to dislodge his weapon as yet another one of the Jacks charged at him, Noct warped away. He didn't stick the landing, having barely enough time to even aim properly to warp, and he slammed into a nearby parked car. The car's motion alarm blared as it went off on impact.

Quickly getting back on his feet Noct recalled his great-sword. The mecha that he had managed to strike earlier had its inner machinery exposed. It struggled to move as sparks flew from its body. Moving much slower and awkwardly than the rest, it shuffled its way almost blindly and zombi-like towards him. It growled at him as it went for a jab again. Noct knew better than to fight close range, having taken note of its preferred fighting style. So he summoned a polearm and with much strength, crouching a bit and lowering his centre of gravity, he thrust it into its chest, pushing harder as it struggled to pierce through. All while the Jack groaned. The sharp end finally came through, the tip of the blade sticking out at the back, and the behemoth robot was lifted off the ground; its weight aiding to push the blade deeper. As his polearm disappeared, the Jack crashed into the ground into a heap of scraped junk.

Noct could barely catch his breath as another fist aimed from his head, but it fell short and ended up almost touching his nose. Phasing behind it, he summoned his weapon of choice, the trusty engine blade, and cleanly cleaved through the machine across it torso successfully this time. The King sidestepped the next one with ease as he'd seen it from his peripheral view. Casting a quick freeze spell, he froze its legs before he stepped forward launching a shovel hook. As the robot lurched back breaking from ice imprisoning his legs, Noct springboarded onto its shoulders and tried crushing its head between his thighs before jumping away. The Jack dropped on to its knees and fell forward—with its head crushed like a tin can and sparks flying.

Looking around he found there were eight more left. He was panting slightly as his fatigue caught up with him. He was well aware that he was exhausting the already little supply of magic he had.

Taking a deep breath, Noct dashed forward and ducked when he was near one of the robots just as it raised both of its arms to deliver a double ended punch. Quickly summoning his Kukris he slashed at it before shifting his weight and dodging away. A cross-shaped tear ran along its body before the hunk of metal went crashing onto the floor mirroring the others.

"Seven more to go." Noctis tried to even out his harsh breathing. Three of them dashed towards him trying to gang up on him. They clearly had the upper hand, with their long arm reach it was hard for him to press an attack.

"Tch," he grimaced.

Dancing away from the first one, he blocked a fierce jab from the second by crossing his arms in front of his face. The impact was merciless and he swore under his breath. His arm shook as he felt tendrils of pain crawling up his arm. Hopefully, he didn't break anything.

He readied himself to take the next round of punches. The follow-up punches were no less weak as each assault pushed him back; his shoes slid back losing his footing. Before he could counter, another jab cut through aimed towards his head. Noct lowered his centre of gravity and hunkered down, narrowly escaping it, his ebony locks brushing its fist. Not thinking straight, Noct retaliated by delivering a cross straight to its guts; which only resulted in the Jack to stagger back slightly. The punch hurt like hell as he felt skin kiss the hard metal of the armoured exoskeleton. Noct hugged his hand to alleviate the pain but it didn't do much. It was clear, due to its lack of reaction, that there wasn't anything human in them. They were much like the MTs back home—but a lot more powerful and dangerous.

Jumping away from the third attack, Noct retreated back a bit. Biting his lips, Noct looked around thinking of a plan before looking forward again. His eyes caught a streak of rainbow refracted on a puddle beside an ominous looking black sludge. Thinking fast, he baited the Jacks forward by backing up towards the puddle; and they gratuitously followed him. He allowed one of them to close in on him. Just as it was able to dish out a successful right hook, that was sure to knock him out, Noct hastily casted a fire spell and jumped back. He morbidly watched as the flames licked the puddle and caught fire and quickly coursed its way towards the Jacks. The one stepping in the black sludge went up in flames first, promptly followed by the next two. Taking advantage of the distraction Noct ran and warp striked the fourth one, his sword ploughing through till the hilt. Summoning his long sword he swung at its legs.

"Fourth one down. Three more to go"

His heart hurt and his muscles were screaming in pain. His reserves were emptying fast; he'd almost used up his magic. There was no way he could go own recklessly casting spells anymore. Had Ignis been there, he'd be shaking his head for his foolhardiness. Taking deep gulps of air, he tried to calm his heart. His joints felt like it were on fire but there wasn't any time to rest as the remaining Jacks came running towards him. Noct parried some of the punches but it didn't do him any good; yet again he was being pushed back. Dropping low, Noct swept its legs from underneath. The Jack went crashing down.

Quickly, Noct jumped onto his feet. He could already see the shadow of the next one closing in on him from behind on the road. Twisting his body around, his eyes bled red as he tried warping away. But instead of phasing like usual, his body only flickered and remained in place just as the jab connected with his ribs. The impact flung him against a building—breaking through the concrete wall and crashing into a pillar. Why wasn't he able to warp away? For a second he'd almost felt the normal pulsing sensation of magic coursing through each of his cells—his body preparing to dematerialise to warp, but instead, he blinked back into the same position. Clutching his rib and the using the wall as support, he tried getting up but his feet gave away.

His eyes widened as he saw the Jack climbing through the hole in the wall and approach him. Crawling back he tried to distance himself. His hands flitted across the floor feeling around before his fingers met cold steel. Grabbing it firmly in his hands, he quickly thrust the metal rebar into its gut. It only managed to slow the killing machine for a moment but it was enough for Noct to body slam the Jack. Both of them tumbled and crashed onto the floor, with Noctis lying above it. Grabbing its face, Noct repeatedly slammed its head onto the floor—pieces of metal behind its head falling apart. Before the robot could grab at him he slipped away from its reach.

Staggering back, he grabbed the edge of a shelf and toppled it over the Jack. The dead weight of the shelves seeming to successfully pin and crush it. By the time he looked up, the second one was coming through the hole and bounding towards him. Sidestepping, Noct goes for a punch aiming for its neck. The attack seemed to falter its movement for a bit but doesn't offer much damage. Quickly, he followed up with a roundhouse kick to its legs and the Jack falls to its knees. Going behind, Noct twists its head savagely, successfully ripping its head off its torso. Sparks were sent flying and it finally crashed to the ground.

Noctis roughly hacks, sending bloody spittle flying. His hand accidentally brushed his rib and the pain almost sent him reeling back. Stumbling out of the hole, Noct was almost sucker punched in the face if it weren't for a well-timed block. There was a resounding crack and he could immediately tell his wrist was broken or at the very least sprained. The impact though sent him rolling on the ground and onto his back. His head slammed into the curb harshly and Noct was slightly dazed by it. Blinking his eyes to focus, the last Jack grabbed his collar and he was lifted off of the ground. Instinctively, Noct grabbed on to its forearms but it didn't budge. Lifting both his legs up, he kicked the mecha on its chest. It ended up sending both of them flying on to the ground. Noctis slid on the ground, the rough surface chaffing his exposed skin—he hissed as he felt rug burns on his arms.

With a kip-up, Noct landed on his feet before rushing in. The Jack was mid way in getting up almost at level with Noct's height. Bounding forward, he delivers a vicious uppercut, putting his entire strength behind it. The metal head breaks off from the body and it goes rolling across the road. After a beat, the Jack kowtows to the ground.

Noct fell on to his knees and keeled over. His arms were supporting his weight but they shook with fatigue. The front of his shirt was slightly torn, exposing his upper torso. Beads of sweat rolled down his arms and face. He was completely drenched in sweat and a gentle draft made him shiver—goosebumps breaking out throughout his body.

"Damn," he breathed out, "that took a lot more energy than I thought".

"That was really impressive I must say".

The words pulled him from his momentary daze. Noctis jerked his head up, eyes widening in surprise. He hadn't felt the presence, in his moment of weakness he had let his guard down.

"Pretty boy".

"Wha-" he croaked out.

The lady was sitting above a scaffolding, legs crossed and staring down at him. Her pink hair rustled in the light breeze. She donned a white tank top, which exposed her underboobs, with a pair of blue denim cut-off shorts; there were chains and a pair of handcuffs wound through the belt loops of the shorts. Her look was topped off with a fitted black cap and red heels. She slowly walked towards the edge, her heels clicking on the metal grate, one foot in front of the other. She carried herself lasciviously.

"Who're you?" His voice was hoarse—his throat was parched and he barely got the words past his mouth. He almost thought his words were lost to the wind but the smirk stretching on her luscious lips said otherwise. Taking yet another step, the woman leapt from the scaffolding, arms stretched out. It was only then he'd noticed the peculiar object on her hand. 'Was that a whip?'

The lady landed on her heels gracefully. An act that, even he had to admit, was commendable. It was as though she'd done this many times before. Straightening herself, the pinkette strutted forward till she was right in front of him. Bending slightly forward, he could clearly see down her cleavage.

Being respectful, Noct looked away. He was still a man after all and the last thing he wanted was a distraction. Not to mention, it was very much rude to stare. But it seemed the sentiments was only one sided. Reaching out, a calloused hand gripped his chin none too gently and tipped his head up. Cerulean eyes stared down at him, brows slightly furrowed—as if she were trying to comprehend something. She was less than an inch from his face; painted lips almost brushing pale parted ones. Her breath mingled with his ragged ones.

"You really are pretty," she concluded.

A small blush painted on his sweaty cheeks at this. With how close she was standing, Noct couldn't control his embarrassment. He could feel the familiar warmth on the back of his neck as blood rushed to his face. "Oh," she exclaimed, "you're a shy one I see". There was a hint of amusement as her eyes twinkled with mischief and forbidden knowledge. The corners of her lips were turned upwards, almost devilishly. She seemed to derive great pleasure from his discomfort as she stepped closer, her painted lips brushing his once before moving to his right ear.

"Well, I love my guys shy,'' she whispered heatedly, pronouncing each word slowly before suckling on his earlobe and gently biting the soft cartilage.

Instinctively, he pushed himself away from her causing him to land on his butt. Noctis quickly covered his ear as though trying to hide it and gave her an incredulous stare. The, yet to be known, lady laughed at this; clutching her stomach she tried to contain it. Wiping stray tears from her eyes, she looked back at him.

"As much as it saddens me to hurt such a pretty face," she spoke ruefully, "I do have a task to complete. So let's have some fun, shall we?"

There was a resonating snap when she whipped the air. She winked at him before engaging him first. She threw a right hook at him and it nearly soaked him. His exhaustion was catching up to him—moving his limbs almost felt like lifting lead weights. He had caught the next punch in his hand successfully but a brutal slap on his face had him disorientated and tumbling on to the ground.

"Don't tell me that's all you got," the pinkette taunted him. A heeled foot kicked him lightly on his injured rib and it had him reeling in pain. Noct tightly gripped the offending foot and threw her off balance. Trying to regain her balance, she staggered back. But it was enough for Noct to pick himself up. He ran to her and jabbed her in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of her and she'd immediately retaliated by whipping him with her unorthodox choice of weapon.

'Where were these people popping from,' he pondered. 'Why were they insistent on fighting him?'

All he'd wanted was some information and maybe some medical aid. He never knew accepting a request from a dear friend could end up so badly. His journey had already started out so badly and it seemed his situation was steadily deteriorating. If someone had told him the day before to not impulsively accept any requests and that in doing so he was biting more than he could chew, he'd have scoffed at that notion. He was not one to turn his back on someone who was seeking help, much less from a friend.

'And he had asked so nicely,' Noctis mused.

That had warranted an immediate 'ok' from him; never being one to bend on orders or demands from people. Call him stubborn, call him impetuous. An ignorant young man, on a journey to try and prove himself to the world. But maybe, just maybe, it all came down to simple etiquette and that, only he was taught well to extend help to someone in need. That just could be it.

"SMACK!"

His distraction earned him another slap to the face. Noctis narrowed his eyes, irritation creeping in, as a red impression of a hand became visible on his face. Now there was someone who needed an intensive lesson on common decorum. Who in their right mind would just go on whipping and slapping random strangers? They hadn't even exchanged names for Etro's sake!

The pair exchanged blows after blows, not even flattering for a second. A moment of hesitation would mean certain defeat. And none of them were backing down. Each attack was being either countered or blocked. Her heels crushed broken shards of glass behind her; she was being pressed on to defensive and none of her punches were landing. Getting annoyed, she impatiently aimed for his head; teeth grinding as her mouth assumed a snarl.

He blocked her attack with his arm before grabbing her forearm and throwing her over his shoulder and onto the ground. She gasped as the wind got knocked out of her. Hazily she looked up trying to locate him. But everything spun in front of her from a probable concussion. Seeing her finally defenceless on the ground, Noct quickly restrained her. He placed his entire weight on her stomach and grabbed her arms and pinned it above her head.

Finding it difficult to breathe, she huffed as she tried to thrust her hips up but it was for nought as they were locked into place by his body. She was almost as tall as him and his only advantage was his weight; aside from his physical strength which currently was of no help thanks to his tired body. A bead of sweat rolled its path down from his prominent cheekbone and landed on to her slowly reddening face.

Coral eyebrows pinched together, petulant mouth jutted out taking in ragged breaths. Her eyes were entirely focused on him, taking his battered form in and carefully regarding him, almost tentatively.

Carefully readjusting his position, he sat a bit lower, offering her some relief from his weight. Almost immediately she gulped in much needed air.

Neon pink locks had spilt on to the cracked black asphalt; her hat being long gone sometime during their brawl. The colour contrasted glaringly.

Noct silently mused who on earth would die their hair neon pink. 'Was it even real?' He briefly wondered as hot puffs of air continued to brush his cheeks.

A loud moan pulled him back from his reverie. Re-focusing on her face, Noct watched curiously as a small smirk crept on her face before it stretched revealing rows of glistening white teeth. Thrusting her hips again she arched her back sensually and let out a long and lewd moan.

The reaction was immediate, as his face was set aflame. His entire face took a rosy shade as his eyes bulged from its socket.

Still laying below him, she laughed at his reaction. It was so predictable, she found it hilarious when it did happen. When her laughter died down, she gave him a licentious look.

"I occasionally don't mind this position. It ain't the most fun. Neither is it my favourite. But I don't mind makin' exceptions for you," she teased, throwing a wink at the end.

That did it for him. Feeling both alarmed and somehow violated, he jerked back, subconsciously loosening his grip. But she noticed it and took advantage of his momentary distraction. Quickly, with much agility, she managed to flip their positions around.

"Uuff!"

Leaning back, she smirked mockingly taking in her handiwork—lips curved and eyes glinting with much mischief. Just like that, she had finally gotten him where she wanted. Bending forward, she pushed her stacked chest against him trying to gain his attention but for the most part, her opponent seemed to be a little bit too preoccupied.

Noctis felt the air knocked out of him this time and winced when he made contact with the ground again; eyes already having scrunched shut, almost anticipating the pain. His head throbbed in the same spot he had banged earlier and his bruised ribs were being agitated again.

Letting out a low groan, he made an attempt to get up and push the weight off of his body. But during his disorientated state his opponent had pinned him securely in place.

Frowning with his eyes slightly squinted, he failed to look intimidating with clumps of hair and dried blood stuck to his pale forehead. He glared at the lady who had made herself comfortable above him. Yet again he tried shimmying his way out but was met with the same frustrating result.

"That's cute. Never had a girl on top, hmm?" She questioned, her teasing tone grating on his nerves. Once again she rubbed her well-endowed assets against his chest. A sharp hiss of pain escaped from his parted lips. His hands, locked securely under her knees, clenched into fists, struggling to break free from the restraints.

Sitting back up straighter, she flipped her long neon pink choppy locks over her shoulder. Her clothes seemed to have gained a few tears here and there from the altercation but apart from that it looked fine—still keeping up with the scandalous look all the same. Her cutoff shorts had ridden up and the tank top barely covered her exposed underboobs now.

Lowering her eyelids, her jeering smile was gone and what remained was a ghost of a smirk as she slowly and carefully looked him over. Slipping both her hands under his ripped gunmetal grey shirt she slid her hands up his toned chest, riding up the shirt and exposing inch after inch of sodden pale flesh.

Noctis hissed as cold hands touched his sweaty and heated skin and had him almost wheezing in pain as the cold appendages grazed at a particularly sore spot. She watched as the different emotions flickered through his eyes before focusing back on his heaving chest. Her hand was resting on an ugly purplish-red bruise—a possible hairline fracture. She slid her hands away from it and instead looked him over, eyeing him like a piece of meat.

"Ya know, it was true when I said you looked pretty''. Her voice was light almost bordering a whisper. "Especially now that I've got you where I wanted". As if to prove her point, she harshly grounded her hips onto his, eliciting a low growl from him.

"Mmhh, don't like that?'' She asked, not too bothered about his answer, as she continued to slowly rock her hips over his crotch. "Or do you want it rougher?" This time she rubbed it harder increasing her tempo.

''What're yo—Stop!'' Noct shouted, ignoring how awful he just sounded.

Only slowing down and not stopping, she looked at him, eyes clouded with lust. "Now why would I do that?" She asked before continuing, "I think I deserve a reward don't you think?"

Again not waiting for an answer, she leaned in closer, closing the gap between them. There was only less than an inch between their lips, almost close enough to taste his breath when she abruptly stopped. It was distinct, but all too familiar all the same—the cocking of a gun. It was very faint but the wind carried the sound. It was enough for her to know that the culprit was somewhere nearby.

Quickly jumping away to the side, she barely managed to escape a bullet aimed for her head. Jumping back on her feet, she looked above to see a lady dressed in a black bodysuit standing on the open balcony of an abandoned high-rise. She was on the top floor, with a clear view of her target. Her blonde hair moved gently in the wind as she stared down at them, preparing for her next shot. The pinkette knew she was not going to miss her target a second time and had complete confidence in her skills, after all, they've been acquaintance before. She rose her hand and gave her a two fingered salute.

She turned to him and gave him a wink and a playful smile. "Too bad we had to cut our playtime short but next time, I promise you, I will give you a great time''. She blew him a kiss and turned to the sound of an incoming chopper.

Noctis watched shocked at what had just taken place, his lips slightly parted. He had shifted up, his elbows supporting the weight of his torso. He could see the light glinting off of the scope of the gun and a blonde woman behind it. He ripped his gaze away from her and glanced at the black chopper, the aircraft was almost close enough to kick up all the dust around him.

The door of the chopper slid open revealing a machine gun preparing to aim at the blonde lady. And in the next moment, a volley of shots was fired. Just as the machine gun went rattling off, a soldier lowered a rope ladder.

The pinkette didn't waste a moment as she went to grab onto the rope ladder but not before turning to look at him one last time.

"Bye pretty boy!'' Her voice was almost drowned out by the chopper. Just like before, with her agility she quickly clambered up the ladder in her red stilettos just as it took off.

Looking over at the collapsing building in front of him, Noctis could see a figure plummeting towards the ground. Taking a shaky breath, he closed his eyes for a second. Without thinking twice and throwing caution to the wind, he warped towards the falling blonde woman near instantaneously. He appeared in a shower of crystals, managing to both startle and enthral her.

"Wha—" She gasped out. Noctis ignored her, favouring to look for a safer descend as he circled an arm around her hips and the other under her legs, before warping down to safety. Upon reaching the ground he could barely keep his knees from buckling as his vision started blurring out, with random dark spots appearing here and there. But just before he fell unconscious, he could see the worried and concerned look on the face of the woman he had just saved, before everything went black.

Happy birthday Noctis!

A/N: Yes and yes. I will be damned if this weren't a harem fic ;) If there's any questions, don't be afraid to ask. I'm usually prompt with my replies. If not please leave a review or a like so that I know if I should continue.