A/N: I'll hopefully be updating approximately every two weeks or so. That is subject to change depending on how much time, motivation, and inspiration I have. But again, as often as possible.

Lightning awoke to the feeling of wet droplets hitting her skin. She dazedly sat up from the hard concrete and glanced around her. She could feel the rough, uneven surface imprinted on her skin.

The area was in no way familiar to her, but she stood and began to survey the landscape only to see buildings, buildings, and more buildings, all constructed in unconventional shapes. The sky was cloudy and gray; rain began to fall heavier, quickly absorbed by her uniform and hair. Lightning didn't see any people, but there was only a brief zone in her range of sight.

Lightning recalled her vague objective. Discover and destroy the object of my demise. How did Etro expect a mere mortal—regardless of l'Cie powers—to overcome something that a goddess could not? Lightning wondered what the hell she'd gotten herself into. Without even the slightest form of a plan in mind, she decided to head out.

Taking in the unnatural stillness of the city, she warily stalked down the nearest alley, ever conscious of the weapon knocking against the back of her thighs with every step. She peered out of the alleyway. There was no sign of movement and the road was barren.

Lightning glanced into the darkened windows of apartments and stores as she passed. Curtains, shutters, and blackout shades were drawn tight. Curious…

She was about to round another corner when she heard voices.

"...no, remain in position. Nothing happens until dawn."

Lightning came to an abrupt halt and drew back into the shadows, hand resting on the hilt of her gunblade. Luckily, she saw the soldiers before they took notice of her. They wore full-body uniforms and helmets, not unlike PSICOM, but the style appeared older, dated. One wore different colored, heavier armor with adorned pauldrons.

"We'll be making our rounds shortly." Lightning heard the transmission crackle.

She didn't go undetected. The senior officer put out an arm to stop his companion before raising his gun.

"You there! Release your weapon!"

Lightning complied, but made no move of submission. They'd recognized her as a soldier. She could see where this was headed and wanted no part of whatever petty group, fight, or war they partook in. Getting caught up in (or caught) was not part of the plan.

"State your colors!"

All the subtle evidence implied war zone. This venture was not looking to be in her favor. Fighting wouldn't be a problem, but then what? Was she supposed to be running from the authorities again? Lightning didn't have time for that and she was growing impatient.

"Soldier, to whom do you report?" the officer demanded.

Lightning was done with this little confrontation. She dashed forward and aimed for the places she knew to be the weakest on PSICOM uniforms, assuming they'd be the same. The soldiers fell to the ground unconscious; she scowled at their limp forms. That was hardly an impressive display of strength.

She left quickly, knowing reinforcements could come at any time. Lightning stole quietly through the city, sharp eyes keeping a lookout and weapon unsheathed. The farther away she got, the safer she would be. It wouldn't be easy to get around once those two woke up and alerted others of her presence. This was truly problematic.

Lightning could already hear shouting in the distance. It only made her quicken her pace.

She cursed silently as she nearly ran out into a group of soldiers. Lightning slid back into the shadows, flattening her body against the building behind her. She crept back along the alley until it seemed safe enough to run and turned another corner.

Drops of rain stung her skin as they hit. Her hair was plastered against her head and droplets slid from the soaked strands into her face.

Lightning swore again as she heard multiple pairs of footsteps behind her.
"Captain, we've found her!" Damn radios. "Do we engage?"

"You there, stop!"

She ignored the command and continued weaving between buildings, turning sharp corners in an effort to lose them. It wasn't long before she heard the whistling of bullets and the sharp ping as they ricocheted off of her surroundings. So that's how they want to play.

Lightning returned fire quickly. Her bullets easily found their targets; three down. She kept running. The sooner she found a way out of the maze of buildings, the better. This game of cat and mouse was taxing. No sooner had she outrun or dispatched a group of soldiers, she'd run into more.

The rain was relentless. Judging by the sky, it was close to dawn already. Lightning had no idea how many hours of flight had passed. How much longer could she keep this up?

She ducked behind a pile of crates. The soldiers followed into a courtyard, surrounded by buildings on all sides and only separated by small alleys. They paced around.

"We know you're here!"

Lightning counted eight. The leader still wore the same uniform as the rest. The commanding officer must still be down.

"Surrender while you still have the chance," he warned.

She was lucky there were other objects and shadowed places to hide. It gave her more time. Heavy footsteps moved closer to where she hid and Lightning tracked the movement from between a slot in the crates. She drew back, ran and jumped, foot kicking off of the last crate and struck. The soldier never stood a chance.
The rest circled around her, sizing her up. Lightning didn't wait for them to make the first move. She dashed in and kicked the gun out of one's hands. Her blade sliced through flesh. She blocked a few well-aimed bullets and returned with a few of her own. The fools were already calling for backup.

She'd only just taken out the last soldier when more arrived. There were quite a few more to replace them. Lightning sighed. She could just feelall of the guns trained on her from all sides. It was a rather familiar situation.

"Drop your weapon!"

Lightning was sick of the commands. She let her gunblade fall and was moving before it hit the ground. It clattered to the concrete in the split second of silence before chaos erupted. She dropped to the ground as bullets flew and spun in a sweeping kick. She took down the two that fell, hit another in the chest—if she was lucky the bones would cave enough to puncture the heart—and kicked into a back handspring to retrieve her weapon.

She fired a few rounds, aiming for vital areas to the best of her ability. She dodged, and ducked, countered, and blocked, hit and kicked, slashed and killed. Despite her efforts, the fight dragged on; Lightning was by far outnumbered. The odds were against her, and this time, Snow wasn't here to pull a hero move. This was the last time Lightning did anyone favors, rewards be damned.

Lightning didn't particularly like using magic, or her l'Cie powers. She considered it cheating in a sense, but if that's what it came to, so be it. Dying wasn't part of the plan either.

She bit back a yell as a bullet grazed her right shoulder. She pushed any pain aside that would hold her back, but it became hard to ignore as blood trickled down her arm. Lightning targeted the soldier that shot her and sunk her blade into his chest, a small act of retribution.

A blur in her peripherals caught her attention. Lightning heard a soldier speak through his transmitter.

"Captain, the target has been sighted! Requesting backup!"

Lightning saw a figure dashing through the soldiers—warping, if she wasn't mistaken—and slaying with uncanny ease. He seemed to have multiple weapons, but she didn't know where they were coming from. It was almost as if they had the ability to disappear. Nothing could touch him. The distraction cost her another hit as a soldier slashed at her with a knife. She moved in time for most of the intended injury to be deterred by her pauldron, but her upper arm still took a shallow cut; a crushing blow to the solar plexus silenced the offending soldier.

Lightning silently criticized herself for being so careless. It proved hard to track all of the movement in the enclosed area. All she could do was continue cutting through the ranks until, suddenly, there was no one left. Only one—not bearing the strange military's colors—stood before her.

Lightning didn't trust him at all. All logic she possessed warned her that a man with that kind of power was nothing but trouble. He held up empty hands towards her in a nonthreatening gesture while she, on the other hand, held tight to her gunblade. He wore all black with dark hair arranged in chaotic spikes.

They stood yards apart, staring at each other. Her eyes caught movement to the left, but kept her main focus in forwards. Lightning could feel a second pair of eyes on her, but only briefly before they resumed surveying the perimeter.

"Who are you?"

She kept up steady eye contact, eyeing him warily.

"Lightning."

"My name is Noctis Caelum."

They observed each other in silence for a moment.

"Are you alright?"

Lightning glared. "I'm fine."

"I don't know why you're here, but I am willing to provide you with shelter and medical care should you require it."

She wanted to refuse. Lightning hated accepting help. To her, it meant being indebted to someone, and those debts were not always something she was willing to pay. At this point, Lightning couldn't reject his generous offer. She was exhausted, wounded, and desperately needed to find out her location and get on with Etro's mission.

Lightning simply nodded to show her acceptance and sheathed her weapon. Noctis turned and headed towards the other man and they exchanged a few words. The telltale click of a barrel from behind caused Lightning to snap to attention; her hand immediately flew to her gunblade. Something tore past her. All she could do was stare with unconcealed shock at Noctis's imposing form. The blade in his hand protruded sharply from the last soldier's chest. Lightning hadn't even drawn her gunblade yet and the soldier was already dead. The dark weapon disappeared in a flurry of crystal fragments, but all Lightning could see were his eyes—red as blood—as he glanced back at her.