Hey! This is a joint fic between myself and Viteros. Hurrah!
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Neither Viteros, nor myself, own Final Fantasy IX or anything associated with it. Squaresoft (bless thier souls) does. We do have rights to our characters, though.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------
Chapter One
A young, brightly colored pair strode through the darkened hallways of the Invincible, their only light the torches that were hung every few meters apart on the walls. One, a young man, talked quietly while the other, a young woman, listened with a slight smile playing on her lips.
The youth was fairly short, only about five and a half feet, with pale skin and he seemed more feminine than masculine. He had wide hips and a slender figure, giving him a girlish look. His eyes were bright blue and shone in his pale face. Long silvery-purple hair fell to his waist and it was cut in layers and at the part in it, three violet feathers stood out, each a different length. Locks of hair fell over his eyes, shading them. He wore little: violet armor with gold trim that seemed to be made of cloth, that only covered his chest. The armor looked as though it had several layers, parts of it fitting closely to him while the rest stood away from his body. His sleeves were made of billowy white cloth that fell to just past his knees. His midriff was bare and all he wore was a thong, the same color as the rest of his ensemble. A black strap held up a long, billowy white piece of fabric behind him that looked almost like a skirt, except it didn't meet in the front. He wore knee high, silver-toed boots and otherwise, his legs were bare.
His companion, the young woman, was less vivid than he, but still cast a commanding figure. She was even shorter than her companion, her head level with his shoulders, with wide hips and a slender waistline. Her skin was as pale, even more so, as his, and her emerald green eyes shimmered in her face. Her cheeks were rosy and her lips were red and full. Long straight silvery-green hair fell to the center of her back, the bangs falling over her eyes, hiding most of her face from view and as he had purple feathers, she had green ones, that, instead of standing straight, fell over her face as did her hair. She wore almost a replica of the young man's ensemble: green armor with silver trim, made of cloth that came down to the center of her ribcage. The armor was of several layers, some fitting close, some standing out from her. Her arms were bare and at the wrists, silver bracelets held on the same billowy type of material that made the youth's sleeves, except on her, the cloth was black. She wore a thong as well, the straps held up by the curves of her waist, and a silver strap held up the long black cloth behind her, the cloth that didn't meet in the front. The green boots she wore came to her knees and they were silver-toed as well. Together, they made an odd couple.
"Are you sure he's there?" she asked in a soft, high-toned voice with a slight accent to it. Her voice had a slight ring of conceit to it.
The young man nodded. "Of course. Do you think that would fail? Is he not strong enough?" the youth replied in a light, slightly lower-toned voice than the young woman. His voice was imperious, with a hint of superiority to it.
"I'm not saying that! On the contrary. What if he wasn't able to find them?"
He smirked at her. "I gave him directions. Do you doubt me?"
"No, Kuja, you know I don't. There's just so much that could go wrong." She frowned slightly. "And why do you think that this plan is flawless?"
"The plan is impeccable because we have left so much room for error. If something does go wrong, we have about thirty other things we could do to rescue it." He glanced at her and noticed that her frown had turned somewhat to a look of shock. "What?" She was staring over his shoulder at something. "Sephira, what is it?"
Taking him by the shoulders, she spun him around and he gasped and stumbled backwards into her and they hit a wall. The girl cried out as he slammed her into the cold, hard metal. Kuja placed his arms around her to the wall and laid his hands flat against it. They stared at the person standing before them with wide-eyed, frightened expressions. The man smiled wickedly at them.
The man was old, with a bald crown and long white hair. His ears were slightly elfish in the sense that they were pointed and his face was wrinkled, his nose long. He wore a full suit of black, metallic armor and a black cape. At the center, at his midriff, there was a large red stone embedded in the black armor and it glowed faintly. His eyes were white, with no pupils, which kept the young pair transfixed on him. Even though he was old, he still cut a commanding figure, tall, strong and withstanding. He crossed his arms and inclined his head slightly to one side, as if deciding what to do with them.
"How much did you hear?" Kuja breathed, his nails trying to dig into the metal of the wall with anxiety. The old man laughed.
"I heard much, though I know not of what it all means. My dolls, are you conspiring against me?"
Sephira cringed and tried to back away. "No. Of course we are not. Why would we be?"
In a flash, the old man had darted forward, shoved Kuja aside and was standing next to the young woman. She tried to sidle away from him, but he caught her arm and held her there. She winced as her eyes flicked back and forth, trying to find a way to escape.
"I sense that you are not being truthful with me, child."
"I—I am... I'm absolutely sincere." She glanced at Kuja, who had stood back up and was leaning with one hand on the opposite wall.
"Completely honest, Garland. Now, leave us be."
"Leave you be?" he asked, releasing the girl, who dashed towards Kuja and hid slightly behind him, shaking, vigorously rubbing her arm, as though repulsed by the touch of the older man. Garland walked towards them as they began to back away. He laughed.
"What pathetic Genomes you are. You cannot even stand up to me. I should have destroyed you when I had the chance." He watched them appraisingly. "But now I suspect you will not give up your souls so readily. You will struggle at least a little for them." He laughed. "Yes, only a little. And at the moment, even though I cannot kill you, I can still hurt you." Even as his words fell upon the two, he had already begun to act.
Taking Kuja by the arm, he flung him into a wall. The young man hit his head and slid to the ground, stunned. Garland grabbed Sephira's shoulders and spun her around, shoving her down to her knees. Hitting her on the back to force her hands to the ground as well, he kicked her in the stomach. She cried out and dropped. Turning back to Kuja, who had struggled to his feet, Garland dashed at the young man, grabbing him by the elbow and deftly breaking his arm. Kuja gasped in pain and threw his other hand to his arm, feeling the bones shift awkwardly. He collapsed to his knees, breathing quickly through clenched teeth. Garland stood between them, laughing.
"That was amusing, was it not?" he remarked before striding away. Kuja looked up at the man's retreating back. He hissed and glared with hatred before hauling himself to his feet. Stumbling forward a step, he made his way to his companion and dropped to his knees beside her.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, placing the hand of the broken arm so as to keep the other hand on his elbow, on her back and gave her a small shake. She moaned and he saw her hands move underneath her to push herself up slightly.
"I loathe him. I cannot stand him," she spat, getting to her knees. She saw the young man's arm and cried out. Her hands reached out and took a hold of his broken arm, replacing the hand he had on his elbow. After inspecting it, she looked up at him, her face full of sympathy. "Let us go. Back to our quarters. We can deal with everything there."
She got to her feet, using the wall as support, and helped him to stand. Placing her hands on his broken joint again, they slowly made their way back to their rooms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zidane was slowly walking near a small village a ways away from the Dragon's Gate. He was relaxing, as was everyone else. They were at the inns and shops or doing whatever they wanted…
"Run! Run, you fools, run, run!"
Zidane whirled to see a man dressed in a black cloak running towards them. Wait, no…a boy, a teenager, maybe 14, 15…
"Are you listening!? You fools, I said, run! Hurry!"
Without stopping, whoever this was grabbed Zidane and picked him up and kept running. "Hey!" yelled Zidane, "What are you doing!?"
"Saving your life!"
"What?"
Zidane looked back and saw hundreds of soldiers, all dressed in blue armor, destroying the town. "Wait! My friends are back there!"
The person stopped and said, "Zidane Tribal, you are in great danger." Fleeing people swarmed around them, trying to get away. The soldiers were closing in for the kill. One of them saw the two of them and charged, his sword waving above his head.
Zidane jumped to fight back, his daggers flashing. The man ran up to him and said, "Zidane, don't fight them! You can't win right now!"
"Then what are we supposed to do! And who are you, anyway!"
Suddenly, the man pointed his left hand at the soldier. Then Zidane saw it was wrapped with black cloth and metal encased the thumb and first two fingers. There was suddenly a huge, blasting noise, and a soldier fell. "My name…is Viteros. And we're getting out of here."
Viteros pulled a small orb out of his cloak and said, "Touch this, quickly! Let's go!"
Zidane touched the orb, and they disappeared.
--------------
The two found themselves in a forest. It was peaceful, with trees and a small spring, which made a brook that flowed lightly over mossy stones. The glade was relaxed, but inside Zidane his spirit was raging.
"You! Viteros! What…who are you!?"
"The person who just saved your life. If you stayed back there…"
"I could have taken him! And all my friends are back there! Dagger…Vivi…all you guys…"
Zidane sat on a rock and buried his head in his hands. "…Garnet…"
"Hey, didn't you already say…never mind…" said Viteros, walking over. "Zidane, you're friends are alive. We just can't reach them at the moment. Here, let's go."
"Where're we going?"
"To meet both of our enemies."
Viteros thought to himself for a while and muttered under his breath, "Sephira…you'd better be ready…"
Then he said to Zidane, "What're you waiting for!? Hurry it up!"
"But…who are the enemies?"
"Someday you'll know. But first…we're going to take a very long journey. And remember, just because its an Angel doesn't mean the heart is still white. And Devils are not always the servants of darkness…"
"Huh?"
"Sorry. You'll learn more but hurry up! We've got to get to my airship now!"
---------------
The airship was small, streamlined metallic one, and probably designed only to carry one person. Zidane had to sit in the "guest cockpit" which he called the "cargo hold".
After a while of flying, Viteros came back into the hold and said, "How are you feeling?"
"I'm all right, I guess…but what are you doing? And where are my friends?"
"Unfortunately I can't go back for them. Our enemies probably have them now."
Zidane stood up and shouted, "How can you say that so calmly! All my friends could die at any time, and you just sit there relaxing!"
"I see no reason to panic at the moment," said Viteros, "you are right, we're going to have to hurry, but screaming and running in circles isn't going to make this airship go any faster."
The thief took a deep breath and said more calmly, "All right. Where are we going."
"To tell the truth," replied the other, "I'm not exactly completely all the way sure. The longitude and latitude of our destination was written in the dust on my table at the inn I was staying at, with a note."
"What was on the note?"
"Maybe I'll tell you someday. I can tell you it was from a man who calls himself Terisas. Maybe you've heard of him…he's an expert in what he calls 'neo-genetics' and he has actually done some incredible things in science…"
"I might have heard of him."
Viteros looked out the window and said, "Either you're very good at information gathering or a liar. Very few except for the highest rank have ever heard of his work, and for a very good reason. When it comes to ethics, Terisas was dabbling in what you could very nearly call blasphemy. Although…he did help me a long time ago…"
"How?"
"That I won't say." A beeping from the cockpit caught Viteros' attention, and he said, "Just relax, Zidane. Grab some food from a case if you need some. I'll be right back."
After Viteros left, Zidane started looking for that food he was talking about. Then he found a heavy metal crate with a skull on it with very small print that said "A-D Proj. Relic case no. 3" on it. He tried to open it, but it wouldn't, and he tried to move it, since it was in front of a wooden case that said "Dry Food". Finally, in an act of desperation brought by hunger, he took a running start and slammed hard into the crate's side.
Wham.
Zidane looked and saw, incredibly, that there was a small hole in the wall. He pulled a little book out that said "Record of Project: Angel, Devil- Agenda 9". Curious, he opened it and saw on the first page…
A picture. But an incredible picture, showing a person exactly as in real life. It was Viteros…although he had much shorter hair in that picture. On his arm he had a tattoo in bold black lettering that said "Devil Project no. 9" and smaller lettering that read "Ojikage". He went further into the book, skipping randomly through and found odd dates that he couldn't read (at least, he guessed they were dates) with records that read, "Specimen shows signs of enhanced intelligence but lowered sanity. Psychic abilities on the rise, but doesn't show the same characteristics as the other Devil- types" and "This one shows the proper level of subservience to the normal Devil-types, and is physically very sufficient for the Project. Survival approved."
And then another…this one wasn't written in the tidy handwriting of the scientists and was instead written in sharp, harsh, somewhat scraggly writing that said:
~You…you bastards. I know you're going to read this, so I put it here. Dr. Codos left it in here; I suggest you advise her to be more careful with her supplies. I put this message here as a warning to you all. Your psychological analyzing of all of us has all failed. Do not trust the Devils or the Angels. I think that they'll all come back to kill you. And don't trust me either. I swear this. In five more days I'm going to start my insurrection. You better be-~
"Zidane? Did you find the food?"
Zidane hurriedly threw the book back into the hole and sat in front, pretending to be looking at the wooden crate. "Is there some in here?"
"Yeah. Open it up, and then come to the front. You should see this."
"All right, I'll be there. Wait a minute."
After Viteros left Zidane quickly put the metal crate back and then got some dried yellow things in a bag labeled "Banana Chips". Then he went to the front.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Neither Viteros, nor myself, own Final Fantasy IX or anything associated with it. Squaresoft (bless thier souls) does. We do have rights to our characters, though.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------
Chapter One
A young, brightly colored pair strode through the darkened hallways of the Invincible, their only light the torches that were hung every few meters apart on the walls. One, a young man, talked quietly while the other, a young woman, listened with a slight smile playing on her lips.
The youth was fairly short, only about five and a half feet, with pale skin and he seemed more feminine than masculine. He had wide hips and a slender figure, giving him a girlish look. His eyes were bright blue and shone in his pale face. Long silvery-purple hair fell to his waist and it was cut in layers and at the part in it, three violet feathers stood out, each a different length. Locks of hair fell over his eyes, shading them. He wore little: violet armor with gold trim that seemed to be made of cloth, that only covered his chest. The armor looked as though it had several layers, parts of it fitting closely to him while the rest stood away from his body. His sleeves were made of billowy white cloth that fell to just past his knees. His midriff was bare and all he wore was a thong, the same color as the rest of his ensemble. A black strap held up a long, billowy white piece of fabric behind him that looked almost like a skirt, except it didn't meet in the front. He wore knee high, silver-toed boots and otherwise, his legs were bare.
His companion, the young woman, was less vivid than he, but still cast a commanding figure. She was even shorter than her companion, her head level with his shoulders, with wide hips and a slender waistline. Her skin was as pale, even more so, as his, and her emerald green eyes shimmered in her face. Her cheeks were rosy and her lips were red and full. Long straight silvery-green hair fell to the center of her back, the bangs falling over her eyes, hiding most of her face from view and as he had purple feathers, she had green ones, that, instead of standing straight, fell over her face as did her hair. She wore almost a replica of the young man's ensemble: green armor with silver trim, made of cloth that came down to the center of her ribcage. The armor was of several layers, some fitting close, some standing out from her. Her arms were bare and at the wrists, silver bracelets held on the same billowy type of material that made the youth's sleeves, except on her, the cloth was black. She wore a thong as well, the straps held up by the curves of her waist, and a silver strap held up the long black cloth behind her, the cloth that didn't meet in the front. The green boots she wore came to her knees and they were silver-toed as well. Together, they made an odd couple.
"Are you sure he's there?" she asked in a soft, high-toned voice with a slight accent to it. Her voice had a slight ring of conceit to it.
The young man nodded. "Of course. Do you think that would fail? Is he not strong enough?" the youth replied in a light, slightly lower-toned voice than the young woman. His voice was imperious, with a hint of superiority to it.
"I'm not saying that! On the contrary. What if he wasn't able to find them?"
He smirked at her. "I gave him directions. Do you doubt me?"
"No, Kuja, you know I don't. There's just so much that could go wrong." She frowned slightly. "And why do you think that this plan is flawless?"
"The plan is impeccable because we have left so much room for error. If something does go wrong, we have about thirty other things we could do to rescue it." He glanced at her and noticed that her frown had turned somewhat to a look of shock. "What?" She was staring over his shoulder at something. "Sephira, what is it?"
Taking him by the shoulders, she spun him around and he gasped and stumbled backwards into her and they hit a wall. The girl cried out as he slammed her into the cold, hard metal. Kuja placed his arms around her to the wall and laid his hands flat against it. They stared at the person standing before them with wide-eyed, frightened expressions. The man smiled wickedly at them.
The man was old, with a bald crown and long white hair. His ears were slightly elfish in the sense that they were pointed and his face was wrinkled, his nose long. He wore a full suit of black, metallic armor and a black cape. At the center, at his midriff, there was a large red stone embedded in the black armor and it glowed faintly. His eyes were white, with no pupils, which kept the young pair transfixed on him. Even though he was old, he still cut a commanding figure, tall, strong and withstanding. He crossed his arms and inclined his head slightly to one side, as if deciding what to do with them.
"How much did you hear?" Kuja breathed, his nails trying to dig into the metal of the wall with anxiety. The old man laughed.
"I heard much, though I know not of what it all means. My dolls, are you conspiring against me?"
Sephira cringed and tried to back away. "No. Of course we are not. Why would we be?"
In a flash, the old man had darted forward, shoved Kuja aside and was standing next to the young woman. She tried to sidle away from him, but he caught her arm and held her there. She winced as her eyes flicked back and forth, trying to find a way to escape.
"I sense that you are not being truthful with me, child."
"I—I am... I'm absolutely sincere." She glanced at Kuja, who had stood back up and was leaning with one hand on the opposite wall.
"Completely honest, Garland. Now, leave us be."
"Leave you be?" he asked, releasing the girl, who dashed towards Kuja and hid slightly behind him, shaking, vigorously rubbing her arm, as though repulsed by the touch of the older man. Garland walked towards them as they began to back away. He laughed.
"What pathetic Genomes you are. You cannot even stand up to me. I should have destroyed you when I had the chance." He watched them appraisingly. "But now I suspect you will not give up your souls so readily. You will struggle at least a little for them." He laughed. "Yes, only a little. And at the moment, even though I cannot kill you, I can still hurt you." Even as his words fell upon the two, he had already begun to act.
Taking Kuja by the arm, he flung him into a wall. The young man hit his head and slid to the ground, stunned. Garland grabbed Sephira's shoulders and spun her around, shoving her down to her knees. Hitting her on the back to force her hands to the ground as well, he kicked her in the stomach. She cried out and dropped. Turning back to Kuja, who had struggled to his feet, Garland dashed at the young man, grabbing him by the elbow and deftly breaking his arm. Kuja gasped in pain and threw his other hand to his arm, feeling the bones shift awkwardly. He collapsed to his knees, breathing quickly through clenched teeth. Garland stood between them, laughing.
"That was amusing, was it not?" he remarked before striding away. Kuja looked up at the man's retreating back. He hissed and glared with hatred before hauling himself to his feet. Stumbling forward a step, he made his way to his companion and dropped to his knees beside her.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, placing the hand of the broken arm so as to keep the other hand on his elbow, on her back and gave her a small shake. She moaned and he saw her hands move underneath her to push herself up slightly.
"I loathe him. I cannot stand him," she spat, getting to her knees. She saw the young man's arm and cried out. Her hands reached out and took a hold of his broken arm, replacing the hand he had on his elbow. After inspecting it, she looked up at him, her face full of sympathy. "Let us go. Back to our quarters. We can deal with everything there."
She got to her feet, using the wall as support, and helped him to stand. Placing her hands on his broken joint again, they slowly made their way back to their rooms.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zidane was slowly walking near a small village a ways away from the Dragon's Gate. He was relaxing, as was everyone else. They were at the inns and shops or doing whatever they wanted…
"Run! Run, you fools, run, run!"
Zidane whirled to see a man dressed in a black cloak running towards them. Wait, no…a boy, a teenager, maybe 14, 15…
"Are you listening!? You fools, I said, run! Hurry!"
Without stopping, whoever this was grabbed Zidane and picked him up and kept running. "Hey!" yelled Zidane, "What are you doing!?"
"Saving your life!"
"What?"
Zidane looked back and saw hundreds of soldiers, all dressed in blue armor, destroying the town. "Wait! My friends are back there!"
The person stopped and said, "Zidane Tribal, you are in great danger." Fleeing people swarmed around them, trying to get away. The soldiers were closing in for the kill. One of them saw the two of them and charged, his sword waving above his head.
Zidane jumped to fight back, his daggers flashing. The man ran up to him and said, "Zidane, don't fight them! You can't win right now!"
"Then what are we supposed to do! And who are you, anyway!"
Suddenly, the man pointed his left hand at the soldier. Then Zidane saw it was wrapped with black cloth and metal encased the thumb and first two fingers. There was suddenly a huge, blasting noise, and a soldier fell. "My name…is Viteros. And we're getting out of here."
Viteros pulled a small orb out of his cloak and said, "Touch this, quickly! Let's go!"
Zidane touched the orb, and they disappeared.
--------------
The two found themselves in a forest. It was peaceful, with trees and a small spring, which made a brook that flowed lightly over mossy stones. The glade was relaxed, but inside Zidane his spirit was raging.
"You! Viteros! What…who are you!?"
"The person who just saved your life. If you stayed back there…"
"I could have taken him! And all my friends are back there! Dagger…Vivi…all you guys…"
Zidane sat on a rock and buried his head in his hands. "…Garnet…"
"Hey, didn't you already say…never mind…" said Viteros, walking over. "Zidane, you're friends are alive. We just can't reach them at the moment. Here, let's go."
"Where're we going?"
"To meet both of our enemies."
Viteros thought to himself for a while and muttered under his breath, "Sephira…you'd better be ready…"
Then he said to Zidane, "What're you waiting for!? Hurry it up!"
"But…who are the enemies?"
"Someday you'll know. But first…we're going to take a very long journey. And remember, just because its an Angel doesn't mean the heart is still white. And Devils are not always the servants of darkness…"
"Huh?"
"Sorry. You'll learn more but hurry up! We've got to get to my airship now!"
---------------
The airship was small, streamlined metallic one, and probably designed only to carry one person. Zidane had to sit in the "guest cockpit" which he called the "cargo hold".
After a while of flying, Viteros came back into the hold and said, "How are you feeling?"
"I'm all right, I guess…but what are you doing? And where are my friends?"
"Unfortunately I can't go back for them. Our enemies probably have them now."
Zidane stood up and shouted, "How can you say that so calmly! All my friends could die at any time, and you just sit there relaxing!"
"I see no reason to panic at the moment," said Viteros, "you are right, we're going to have to hurry, but screaming and running in circles isn't going to make this airship go any faster."
The thief took a deep breath and said more calmly, "All right. Where are we going."
"To tell the truth," replied the other, "I'm not exactly completely all the way sure. The longitude and latitude of our destination was written in the dust on my table at the inn I was staying at, with a note."
"What was on the note?"
"Maybe I'll tell you someday. I can tell you it was from a man who calls himself Terisas. Maybe you've heard of him…he's an expert in what he calls 'neo-genetics' and he has actually done some incredible things in science…"
"I might have heard of him."
Viteros looked out the window and said, "Either you're very good at information gathering or a liar. Very few except for the highest rank have ever heard of his work, and for a very good reason. When it comes to ethics, Terisas was dabbling in what you could very nearly call blasphemy. Although…he did help me a long time ago…"
"How?"
"That I won't say." A beeping from the cockpit caught Viteros' attention, and he said, "Just relax, Zidane. Grab some food from a case if you need some. I'll be right back."
After Viteros left, Zidane started looking for that food he was talking about. Then he found a heavy metal crate with a skull on it with very small print that said "A-D Proj. Relic case no. 3" on it. He tried to open it, but it wouldn't, and he tried to move it, since it was in front of a wooden case that said "Dry Food". Finally, in an act of desperation brought by hunger, he took a running start and slammed hard into the crate's side.
Wham.
Zidane looked and saw, incredibly, that there was a small hole in the wall. He pulled a little book out that said "Record of Project: Angel, Devil- Agenda 9". Curious, he opened it and saw on the first page…
A picture. But an incredible picture, showing a person exactly as in real life. It was Viteros…although he had much shorter hair in that picture. On his arm he had a tattoo in bold black lettering that said "Devil Project no. 9" and smaller lettering that read "Ojikage". He went further into the book, skipping randomly through and found odd dates that he couldn't read (at least, he guessed they were dates) with records that read, "Specimen shows signs of enhanced intelligence but lowered sanity. Psychic abilities on the rise, but doesn't show the same characteristics as the other Devil- types" and "This one shows the proper level of subservience to the normal Devil-types, and is physically very sufficient for the Project. Survival approved."
And then another…this one wasn't written in the tidy handwriting of the scientists and was instead written in sharp, harsh, somewhat scraggly writing that said:
~You…you bastards. I know you're going to read this, so I put it here. Dr. Codos left it in here; I suggest you advise her to be more careful with her supplies. I put this message here as a warning to you all. Your psychological analyzing of all of us has all failed. Do not trust the Devils or the Angels. I think that they'll all come back to kill you. And don't trust me either. I swear this. In five more days I'm going to start my insurrection. You better be-~
"Zidane? Did you find the food?"
Zidane hurriedly threw the book back into the hole and sat in front, pretending to be looking at the wooden crate. "Is there some in here?"
"Yeah. Open it up, and then come to the front. You should see this."
"All right, I'll be there. Wait a minute."
After Viteros left Zidane quickly put the metal crate back and then got some dried yellow things in a bag labeled "Banana Chips". Then he went to the front.
