Lightning twisted her wrists, testing the strength of the rope. She needed to get out, fast. The rumors that her fellow GC soldiers came to the forefront of her mind:

"—they're savages—no telling what they do to the prisoners there—,"

"Barbaric mongrels. Better off dead."

"… talked to a POW from one of the hostile's camps—he was never the same."

It was hard trying to remain focused on escaping, when all evidence pointed at the fact that there was no escape. Fear began to cloud her judgment and thoughts and she struggled wildly with the bonds, thrashing around in the chair. She would arch her back forward, feet firmly on the ground, trying to walk. Giving up on that she searched for anything sharp that she could possibly—

"Stop moving." Lightning fixed her wide eyed gaze on the head of clan. Those dark, green eyes were still burning, but it resembled embers burning long after the blaze had gone out. Her voice was calm, not like how it was early when the woman's emotions had been thrown out for all to see. She gulped as the woman walked behind her, the hair on the back of her neck standing up.

Lightning jerked instinctively when she felt a warm, calloused pair of hands on her wrists untying the bonds. She immediately lunged forward, trying to get away from the grasp of the huntress. All that she managed to do was bring the woman tumbling forward, knocking the chair away only to land on Lightning's back. Using this to her advantage, the huntress yanked Lightning's wrists up, placing her knee on her back, and pushed.

The corporal screamed.

"This can go on for a long time." The woman said, loosening her hold slightly. "You cooperate, you'll live. You keep fighting, and I'll kill you." Lightning could only gasp her breath in and out, her mind still reeling from the pain. "Do you understand?" She nodded numbly.

She was jerked up, pulled backwards to the center of the tent, which had a tall, wooden pillar to support the tent's structure. Tying Lightning's hands on a hook overhead, the chieftain yanked a dagger from its sheath. Lightning couldn't help her attempt at backing away, but the huntress did not hurt her as before—no, she simply began to cut all of Lightning's clothing off.

"What're you—!" A hard slap connected with her cheek.

Okay… No talking.

Lightning watched with a growing sense of nervousness. When the tribeswoman was done, Lightning was only left in her underclothes. But even in her fear and anxiety, she noticed how the other woman had paused for a few seconds, eyes wandering over her body.

She couldn't take it. Lifting herself up with arm strength alone, Lightning kicked out at the woman, managing to connect a blow on her chest. "Don't you even try it, you fucking bastard!" She hissed.

The response she got wasn't what she was expecting. She laughed.

"Soldier girl," She began slowly, stalking over to Lightning who was now gripped with terror and couldn't move. "I can do whatever I want with you." The cold steel from the dagger tapped her side for emphasis. "Remember that."

The corporal's breathing picked up.

She wouldn't… rape me. Would she?

Something in Lightning's eyes must have been obvious for the taller woman to see, for she quickly avoided eye contact, turning the corporal around.

Please don't—please—!

All she felt were gentle fingers on the back of her neck, probing, searching. She unconsciously relaxed as the fingers buried themselves in the muscles. Lightning was turned around once more, the chieftain now untying her bonds above her head. "Don't try to escape." Lightning rubbed her wrists as the rope was untied. There were rings of red around the porcelain skin. She heeded the hostile's words, knowing that it was pointless for now. In the middle of the camp, with armed guards, weaponless, and with a strong adversary with a dagger, was simply suicide.

She jerked again involuntarily as her hand was brought up to eyelevel, the dark fingers probing between the joints, moving the muscles in a way that massaged Lightning's hands. The process was repeated for the other.

Swallowing, she tentatively asked, "What are you doing?"

The woman stopped briefly, glancing at her before continuing. Finally she was done, and let Lightning's hand drop. Now she stared into the corporal's eyes, almost glaring. It felt like everything in her soul was being laid out in plain sight for this stranger to see.

"Do you have any tracking devices?" Lightning shook her head no. "Have they installed a chip in your brain?" Once more, she shook her head no.

Those green eyes flickered, searching Lightning's cerulean orbs. Abruptly the woman nodded, walking over to grab something from a chest and returning to throw the items at Lightning. "Put those on." She muttered, exiting the tent. "I'll return soon."

Lightning bit her lip, examining the tribal clothing as her thoughts ran rampant through her head.

Not once had the woman stared at Lightning as she did before when Lightning lashed out at her. She only looked into Lightning's eyes.

Think.

Lightning paced in the tent, back and forth, back and forth.

There was no way she was getting out of the camp alive. The guard would surely kill her, making everything pointless. She could assassinate the chieftain still, but that was a straight shot of dying—and she didn't plan on losing her life.

Think, damn it!

The chieftain—her target—was bluntly emotional, but compassionate. Angry upon meeting Lightning at first, but this was expected after her attempt of assassination. However, most leaders would have had a professional interrogator asking her the questions, prodding her for details. And not only that, they would remain calm, cool, and collected—the opposite of their prey, in most cases. It seemed that their roles were reversed yesterday, however Lightning was beginning to lose her control. She shook her head to get her thoughts back in order. Compassionate. Yes, Lightning knew she was. When she had lashed out, snarling at the woman out of the fear of—she shuddered—the huntress had immediately backed off.

They might not be as bad as they others say… She frowned. Or it could be a trick—trying to make you feel secure.

"Ugh," Lightning slumped against the pillar, sliding all the way to the ground, cradeling her head between her hands. No way out, no certainty of the future—it was all very bleak and wearing down on her spirit.

Just then, the flap was pulled back.

Looking up, she immediately tensed as the girl she had tried to assassinate took small steps toward her, biting her bottom lip, eyes wide, a bowl and loaf of bread in her hands. The girl quickly placed the food on the table before throwing her one last curious look mixed with apprehensiveness, leaving the tent hurriedly.

Lightning took a deep breath, drooling at the delicious smell coming from the food. Her stomach growled in hunger. Stumbling to her feet, she grabbed the spoon out to toss it on the table. Taking the bowl in her hands, Lightning tipped it back, drinking the stew quickly, not caring that she burnt her tongue.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she began to gnaw on the bread, her thoughts now taking a new turn.

Clearly, these people didn't know how to interrogate correctly. GC interrogation standard procedures were that you keep the person alive, keep their health minimal. That started with starvation and dehydration, followed by injury and pain, just enough to leave the interrogated weak and willing to provide answers. Depending on how things were from a political standpoint, the prisoner would then be released to their fellow people or killed.

But this...

Lightning's eyes darted over to the empty wooden bowl and spoon.

Her thoughts were once again interrupted as the huntress pulled the flap back and entered. Lightning was shock still as the woman's eyes took in the empty bowl in front of her, before shifting her gaze back to the soldier. "Get up." She obeyed. "Hold out your hands." They were raised in front of her. A strong, leather cord was tied around her wrists, a longer piece leading off from it like a leash. "Follow me, and keep your head down."

The soldier was jerked forward as the huntress pulled her. Passed the tent flap she went, Lightning's eyes darting around, never leaving the ground but taking things in with her peripherals.

Everywhere, the other soldiers stopped what they were doing, staring at her. It was more of a glare, that shown with a bit of curiosity and a lot of hate. Lightning had to endure this as she was drug along throughout the camp, some of the soldiers deciding to follow the two.

The huntress stopped abruptly, making Lightning bump into her from behind. Disobeying, she raised her head, eyes looking at Fang curiously as to why they had stopped, before shifting over and answering her own unspoken question.

In front of them stood a dark skinned, burly man, his jaw set, arms crossed. He appeared to be a richly decorated warrior—someone of renown skill to have that many variations on his armor.

That or he was supremely conceited.

The man jerked her head in Lightning's direction, speaking to the chieftain with a different, garbled language. Whatever he had said made the woman cross her arms like the man, placing one foot slightly in front of the other.

Disagreement and negativity—Lightning had been taught body language in the Corps.

The huntress waved the leather leash, replying to the man in the same language. The man stomped forward gesturing at the leash and then pointing off to the forest.

He wants to leave me here to die. Lightning's blood ran cold.

Shaking her head, the woman started to answer back but was interrupted as the man came even closer yet. Lightning subconsciously drew nearer to the chieftain, which made the woman glance back at her. What she saw in the woman's eyes made Lightning hesitate for a brief moment. It was quick, just a flash, but it was enough.

… Assurance?

Now yelling, the man waved his arms wildly, his finger jabbing out at Lightning until finally the chieftain had enough, and—turning—she raised one leg up and smashed it into the man's chest, making him fly back several feet to land flat on his back.

The next thing she said was spoken in a tone that rung with finality and authority, and then she quickly pulled Lightning along. The corporal looked back at the man, pushing himself off the ground, jerking away from others trying to help him up. She managed to catch the glare from him, along with the hand crossing his throat motion, before twisting back around sharply her eyes instead watching the huntress.

Lightning now looked at the woman. She walked… fluidly. Every movement was graceful, and with every step, muscles subtlety rippling underneath the tanned flesh. Her dress was foreign, as was expected. A blue, silky material was wrapped around her waist with a piece of the cloth thrown over her should like a sash. All of this was held together by a belt that coupled as a—Lightning squinted, trying to see—sheath? It was small, maybe three inches long, round and empty. What kind of weapon does that hold? She resumed her examination, taking in the pelts that occasionally swished back that she had noticed before. Her eyes roamed upwards, barely managing to spot the dark, large tattoo on her left arm. The black bracers on her arms also revealed her to be a warrior, but it confused Lightning as to why she wore colorful bracelets on one arm.

She raised her eyes as they stopped once again, her captor climbing up a box-like structure that rested on the ground. A sharp tug made her follow, stepping up the wooden platform to enter a covered alcove, littered with pillows, drinks, and food. Lightning saw that the girl was here as well, knees drawn up to her chest as she watched the soldier warily with her large, bright green eyes.

As the chieftain sat down, she immediately noted how the younger girl, shifted closer to her, eyes always on Lightning.

Serah.

Flinching, she broke her gaze from the girl, looking down at the ground.

"Looks like you feel guilty." The huntress remarked as she leaned back to rest on the palms of her hands. "As you should. Killing soldiers is one thing—killing a little girl? That's low."

"… Why bring me here? Why not—?"

"Leave you with the guards?" She interrupted, smirking. "You know what they say—or maybe you don't on that twisted planet of yours. 'Keep your friends close but your enemies closer'. I'll be keeping my own eye on you, rather than worrying about some stupid klutz loosing track of you."

She's a talker.

"Fang…" The girl tugged on the blue fabric that the huntress was wearing.

Lightning blinked, surprised; the name fit the woman like a glove.

The chieftain—Fang—wrapped one arm around the girl's shoulders, staring hard at Lightning. "This is Vanille. A healer from another tribe, who has only killed animals in her entire lifetime of only seventeen years—the lifetime you were about to end."

Lightning inhaled sharply, eyes burning.

Don't you dare. A part of her mind snapped at her. The other part—the moral part that she had tried to stamp away years ago, whispered back. She's Serah's age.

She was at a loss for words.

Added to the guilt that she had failed at her duty, was the fact that she was going to take an innocent life—for this girl was innocent, from her physical appearance, down to her personality. Lightning never signed up for this. She wanted to save people by taking the bad out of the world, but not someone like this.

Not a child.

"I…" She couldn't get the right words out, instead choosing to keep her eyes glued to the wooden floor.

"Fang." Lightning heard the girl berate the huntress, eyes peeking through her bangs at Vanille who was crawling to her. "Lightning?" Fang must have told Vanille her name, she thought dully. The redhead reached out, tentatively grasping a bound fist that was clenched tightly. "I forgive you."

Those three words had more weight than any Lightning had ever heard. The girl—Vanille—had no idea of the effect this had on the soldier. Her whole life she had wanted to hear those words—not from her specifically, but from someone very much like her. Hearing it now—from an enemy no less—made her crumple. It made everything questionable to her.

She was here to protect, to finish a war before it started. But how could people like this, be such a threat to hers?

She didn't notice Fang watching her closely, eyes wide.

"I'm… sorry." She whispered to Vanille.

'Think about it, soldier.' Fang's words echoed in her mind. Why would they send a rookie like you to do a professional killer's job? Lightning's world was crumbling, falling to pieces. They sent you to die, but they haven't killed you yet. Anybody else would have interrogated you, tortured you, and then killed you. You've heard the stories, you know the facts.

Question is, was everything you believed false?

The thought stung like wildfire.

You tried to kill someone like your sister. Is this what you wanted to become when you signed up?

No...

You're better than this—you are just as good as this kind-hearted girl who had the grace to forgive you for almost killing her. Your parents knew that and Serah knew that, now's the time to walk the walk.

Lightning didn't understand why her thoughts were taking this wild, one-eighty turn. Maybe it had always lurked in the back of mind, subconsciously wondering. All she knew was that everything she thought written in stone was now erasable.

There were a whole new set of rules now.

A part of her mind still whispered thoughts of warning, They're lying… Traitors, savages, liars… You're falling for it…

She closed her eyes and accepted it.

I will not become a monster.

They were being carried through the forest—initially shocking Lightning as the four large men pulled them upwards, resting the wooden poles on strong shoulders. The guard made a ring around them, five men in the front and back, and six on either side, separated into two groups of three to prevent flanking.

Fang continued to stare at Lightning, making her uneasy, but Vanille soon captured her attention.

The girl was busy weaving something, humming to herself happily as she leaned back to rest against Fang. Occasionally she would softly sing, her practiced fingers quickly going to work.

Lightning's trance was interrupted as Fang leaned forward, careful not to break Vanille's concentration, and handed her a flask of water and a bowl of fruit. Staring at it, shocked, her eyes flickered up to meet the dark green of her 'captor' and was met with an uncertain friendliness. Timidly, Lightning accepted the offerings, taking a slow sip of water and choosing to nibble some of the red grapes.

It was a shaky company they had, but it was one nonetheless. Lightning knew that Fang did not trust her, and neither did she with Fang. However, there was something that told her that none of the women would hurt her—Fang's earlier hits and threats aside—and neither would she hurt them. She'd still escape if she could, but Lightning decided then and there that she could not harm the two that had forgiven her for an unspeakable crime.

And as for escaping… She had a promise to keep.

Serah wiped her hands on the towel in the kitchen upon hearing the doorbell ring. "I got it!" She called, hearing the other people in the house offering. Serah quickly made her way to the door, opening it. Her grin quickly vanished as the two decorated officers in front of her.

"Ma'am… I regret having to tell you this…"

"—she was an excellent soldier with a bright future ahead of her."

"We will always remember and honor Lightning Farron as we serve and live our lives."

Serah sobbed, her hand over her mouth to muffle the screams. On her knees in the front door, she didn't see the men turn around and get in their car, nor did she see through the blatant lies that spit through their forked tongues.

All she knew, all she felt, were the arms of her friends, Snow and Lebreau along with the rest of NORA wrapping around her.

Her sister was dead.

The officer in the passenger seat flipped open his cell phone, dialing the encrypted number. "It's done." He listened to the indistinct voice on the line. "Yes, she believed every word—," He paused. "There's no way that Farron could make it out of that alive—it's hell out there and she was just a rookie." Flipping the phone closed, he turned to the driver.

"Well done, Sergeant Major Johnson."

The hands on the steering wheel tightened.