So I finally got this chapter. Phew, this was harder than it looked. I really appreciate your reviews, so please keep them coming ;)


-::Ingenero: Final Fantasy::-

-:Chapter IV – The Plot Thickens:-


"Well, well. Aren't we the late ones?"

Drake flickered his green eyes briefly at the woman seated on the rocky throne in middle of the ruined temple. Giving a snort, he turned and walked towards a pillar, which he then leaned against. His dark brown hair waved as if he had run through the sky untamed, his muscular frame clad in dragon-like armor, made up of a chestplate, gauntlets, boots, pants, finishing with a garment shaped like wings circling his head. His tan flesh showed little sign of the struggle he had just finished.

"I had some things to wrap up."

"Oh, is that so?" The woman seated on the throne brushed a strand of oil black hair aside her white face, gray eyes watching the man closely. A navy blue dress clad her slender frame, with black wrist brands holding her sleeves down and a dark shawl draped over her shoulders. "Did these 'things to wrap up' involve a current harmonic warrior?"

"You're making puns now?" Drake asked casually. The woman gave a light laugh.

Neo Tyrant, however, was less held together, unruly violet-tipped blond hair falling like wild feathers over the gold ordainment around his head, purple eyes dark and malevolent, his pint-sized frame dressed to appear like a king, with a long cape of sharpest violet, gold fibers made to form a royal robe, all soaked and disheveled. His pasty white face a hot shade of tomato red, he snarled, "Those damned peons keep getting in our way! And you just sit there, making jokes? I should have been the leader here!"

"You're still going on about that? How immature." Tyrant glanced over to see two metallic warriors, clad head to foot in yellow metal that bent and shaped to fit each gender's frame perfectly. The taller, masculine being tilted his head, three arches sticking out of the back of his head, black linings wrapped around lips that flowed into a frown. "Truly, Tyrant, you are the youngest and most foolish of us all. The last thing we need is for a child to lead great warriors like us into battle."

"An army of lions led by a lamb is far weaker than an army of sheep led by a lion," another person spoke. This man, his face covered by a white, smiling mask, was dressed fashionably, a velvet green vest over a dress shirt, polished black shoes, and dark pants, with his long blond hair tied into a perfect, curly ponytail.

Tyrant gagged. "Are you calling me a lamb, you incompetent monkey?" he hissed.

The well-dressed man cocked his head, and behind him, a yellow tail flickered in annoyance. "I am sorry, but what did you just call me, little boy?"

"An. Incompetent. Mon-key!" Tyrant spat.

"He called Dimitri an incompetent monkey," the metallic feminine being chirped. "Not once, but twice. Brother, did you teach the dog new tricks?"

"I'm afraid that's not my doing," the masculine being replied smoothly. "If that were the case, I would have taught him a more elegant choice of words."

Tyrant spun around, taking his anger on newer victims. "You be silent, Gemini! Your ludicrous words mean nothing to me!"

"Oooh!" squealed the feminine being. "Now he's using ludicrous! How wonderful! The suckling can actually use big words!" She turned to the one she called 'Brother,' a giddy smile on her face. "Isn't that delightful, dear Brother?"

"Indeed it is, dear Sister," the masculine being stated. "However, I do doubt he's using words far too enormous for his feeble cranium to comprehend. Empty threats from a futile king." He chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand. "Or should I say, futile princeling?"

"He is far from a princeling," droned a woman with dark tones, purple hair framing a heart-shaped face, neat and tied into a bun that warped around the back of her head before the ends stuck out behind, appearance similar to a snake ready to strike. Her yellow eyes burned like the sun, red stripes underneath her lids like bags, ruby lips tensed into a frown. Her tight-fitting gown split at the bottom, revealing legwear as dark as night. "Why do you even bother to teasing such a mockery, Gemini? You merely waste the air."

"Silence, Delilah!" Tyrant roared. "I will become ruler of this pathetic world, and then you will all bow before me!"

"Such a worm to make grandeurs vows," Dimitri sang. "But can the boy King really make do to his words, or will he join with the rest of the birds?"

Tyrant opened his mouth to splatter more blasphemies when Jupiter's hollow voice interrupted, "Halt this bickering, everyone."

Everyone paused, turning to look up at the massive Chaos warrior. Turning, the giant nodded. "Morgan, if you will. You have brought us all here for a purpose. Share with us that reason, please."

"Since you asked so nicely," the woman, known now as Morgan, rested her chin nonchalantly in one hand, gesturing to the others with a swipe of her red painted nails. "I have called you all here today to bring an important message from Chaos. It has been awhile since he last called you here, and he feels that some," turning her gaze to the Hydra and Jupiter, "have fallen off the path he has so graciously laid out. Thus, he believes a message must be delivered to increase our militia morale."

"If our morale is so damn important, why doesn't Chaos just show up and tell us so?" a silver-haired youth asked, crossing his arms over his black-clad chest. Punk clothes, such as a black T-shirt, torn black pants, skull ear-rings, and dark boots, covered the boy's lean figure, a gunblade resting in a holster strapped to his side.

Morgan looked at him, smirking darkly, still holding her chin with her manicured hand. "And why would he, the God of Discord, bother to show his divine face to such petty fiends such as yourselves? You are merely soldiers to Chaos. Expendable soldiers, I might add."

Delilah spoke next, asking, "Morgan, while Chaos might have his reasons for not showing his face, there still begs the question of what he is planning." Morgan merely waved her hand at the sorceress, stating casually, "All will be revealed in time. Chaos is a patient being. He does not view the world as we mere mortals do."

"As long as this grand scheme of yours doesn't interfere with my research," snapped an older woman, glasses slipping down her hawk nose, graying brown hair tied into a sloppy ponytail that draped over her shoulder, "I don't give a corkscrew about it."

"Dr. Galloway." Morgan gave a light-hearted laugh. "I can always count on you to throw caution to the wind."

"But of course!" the doctor exclaimed. "As a scientist, I must discover everything there can be discovered! So I must take risks! Caution never discovered anything, now did it? Besides, if it's protecting myself, I have this brat here for a reason." She gestured towards a solemn, blank-faced girl standing closely behind her.

The girl was a little older than fifteen, blond hair left in dead locks around her face, her green eyes blank and unseeking. She wore a simple shirt and loose slacks, shackles on her wrists and ankles.

The doctor herself, a medium sized woman in a lab coat, high collar shirt and work pants, gestured wildly at the unextraordinary child by her side. "Science created this grand creature, who now stands by my side. And science will continue to serve me faithfully. Is that not right, girl?"

The girl responded by nodding silently, her face completely void of any emotion. Dr. Galloway nodded erotically, her head bobbling almost loosely on her neck.

Drake sighed heavily. "Animals," he murmured as Galloway continued to tirade about the importance of science without caution.

"Yes, it seems the darkness is strongest here." Drake turned to see a man dressed in a brown cloak, his face partly covered, blue eyes glittering against fair skin.

"Enoch," Drake greeted, giving a friendly smile, "how fair's your seeking of memories?"

"A dead-end as always." Enoch crossed his arms over his chest. "My past escapes me constantly, like a vapor in the wind. It is… very frustrating, you can imagine."

"Indeed," Drake mused, closing his green eyes. "Unfortunately, I wish I were in your shoes at this very moment."

Enoch arched an eyebrow. "You remember your sister's face?"

Drake nodded. "I had a memory beginning to appear. I saw her. But I wasn't sure. So I fought the warriors of Cosmos, to better see… She is on the other side."

"Hmm." Enoch bowed his head, eyes closed. "This is… most troubling. Does that mean you will yield in the war?"

"If I would, it would merely mean more trouble for myself and her." Drake shook his head. "No. I must persevere through this, no matter the pain I might feel myself going through. Today was just the beginning of many trials I must face in order to protect her." He turned to look Enoch directly in the face, despite the rags hindering his view. "Enoch, you are my closest ally here. You must not repeat this to anyone, understand?"

"As you will not repeat what I have said about the others, as well." Enoch bowed his head. "We are of the same tree, good dragoon. You need not fear me."

"Dr. Galloway," Morgan was now saying loudly, interrupting the crazed scientist's ranting, "if you would please settle down. We seem to be getting off topic…"

"Again…" muttered Seth, rolling his green eyes once more, as if to emphasize the point. Morgan gave him a look before continuing where she had previously left off. She looked at each of them in the face, observing their expressions, perhaps even their thoughts, as the power held within her gaze was strong enough to send shivers down a man's spine.

Smirking darkly, she continued where she left off. "In order to secure victory for our side, the god Chaos has proposed a strategy."

"And how do we know this strategy will not fail?" Dimitri asked curiously. Morgan tabbed a long nail on the throne's arm, responded in a cold, confident voice;

"Because this strategy has been used time and again, never once failing us. Heroes are, if you will, fairly easy to predict."


"I have come to my decision," Cosmos stated solemnly. "In order to save you all from this doomed fate, I will grant you a small amount of my power. Hopefully, as fragile as it is, it will give you some ability to defy the laws of the cycle."

"But Cosmos," Quincy asked, "what'll happen to you?"

Smiling gently, the harmonic deity replied, "It seems the longer this conflict draws out, the more powerful I seem to become. I have had time to regain enough strength. However, as I said before, should I misjudge a source of energy, I could very well disturb the balance. Thus, I will only give you all a small amount compared to the my previous warriors." Casting her eyes down, she murmured, "I am sorry, but that is all the power I can offer up to this point."

Harmony placed a hand to her breastplate, bowing her head deeply. "No, you have done more than any of us can ask for. Cosmos, even if with a little of your divine strength, we can still win this endless war once and for all."

Blinking a silent 'thank you,' Cosmos then held out her hands, asking, "Then come. Gather around so I may grant you the power you need."

The warriors needn't take three steps forward before the goddess rose above them all, radiance flowing out of her. It was weak, granted, only traces of what she once was, before her power was willing given up to save the other warriors before them. Still, it glowed, leaving the group in awe as luminous ribbons of latent power fluttered toward each warrior, settling gently in a part of their body before vanishing without a trace.

As quick as it came, it was over, and Cosmos, exhausted, rested in her throne, nodding with encouragement to the ones bearing the most concern on their faces.

When they seemed satisfied, each warrior began to move away, knowing Cosmos would hide herself until she could gather strength once more.

And thus, their hunt for the Crystals began.


And thus, that is how Gwen ended up, walking alone, far from Sanctum, the monster known only as Chaos and his lair drawing closer with every step. Her green eyes scanning the area around, she noticed no potential threats at the moment, thus lightening her pace.

Peace and quiet, she thought with a fresh breath of air. She was relieved to have been given the opportunity to get away from Sanctum, away from all those people, each in their own way seeking to control her.

But they won't have the chance. If anything, while the rest wandered aimlessly through the wasteland of this dying world searching for pointless rocks, Gwen would get one step closer to ending the conflict.

Although, now that she was thinking about it, checking her surroundings for any distinguishing marks, she was really one step closer to being totally lost.

She shook her head. No, not lost, she thought. Just… misguided. Grinding her teeth angrily, she then turned direction, once more attempting to head towards Chaos's lair.

But what seemed like an hour or so later, Gwen once more found herself without an inkling of where she was.

And that frustrated her beyond all means. Whirling around, she made another turn into yet another gateway, fought through two more manikins only to stop inside the Gate, realizing something stupid.

She had just been in this Gateway.

"Damn it!" Gwen snapped, stabbing her gunblade into the ground. "Urgh, of all the crummy things to happen…"

"Are we lost again, little girl?"

Snapping her green eyes up, she watched as Delilah came into view, her heels clicking as the witch approached the girl. Jerking her gunblade back from the ground, she pointed the weapon at the witch, growling, "Give me one good reason not to blast off your head here and now, Delilah."

Delilah snorted, glaring back at her with a cold, disinterested look. "I have come of my own free will, to see if my memory's beckoning call holds any merit."

Gwen blinked, confused. "What … the hell does that mean?"

Spreading her hands out, Delilah hissed lowly, "It means we are to do battle. Give me all that you hold, keep nothing back."

The gunblade wielder barely had enough time to dodge the witch's assault, magic incants firing at her from above and beyond. Amethyst arrows rained down on her, her legs carrying her away as each missed their mark by no more than a hair length.

Clenching her gunblade in one hand, Gwen turned a tight corner, a volley of energy beams colliding with the cement, thankfully not breaking it.

Jerking an arm out, she fired several rounds before backing off, keeping tight on the time she allowed herself to be exposed. In the distance, she could hear the witch chortle.

"Why hinder your great potential? Why not release the destiny your parents so desperately wished to shun? Do you not hate how this slows you, not permitted you to reach what could be your zenith?"

Ignoring the witch's riddle, Gwen cursed, reloaded a special round of bullets custom made for her.

Touching the bullets once more sent a wave of nostalgia through her.

A packet, no bigger than the palm of her hand, was held out to her. Blinking, Gwen had looked up to see her father's face, a hint of pride worn on his normally neutral face.

"What's this?" Gwen recalled asking. Her father had smirked a little, gesturing to the packet.

"A birthday gift of sorts. Custom made. Special bullets that really put a 'bang' at the end."

Shaking her head, she forced herself out of the past and into the present. For Gwen, it didn't matter where she was from, what was in her past, and what waited for her. What mattered was here and now, and the here and now focused on a certain witch firing numerous energy arrows her way.

Clicking the round inside, Gwen positioned herself carefully on the corner of the wall. The volley of arrows had momentarily stopped, but Gwen knew that Delilah was perhaps conserving energy until she caught sight of Gwen's black head or gunblade.

But that worked out fine for Gwen. Although she preferred engaging the enemy first, with this next round of ammo, she could simply sit back and watch the fireworks. This could also give her a chance to escape into another Gateway, away from the witch and the persistent memories that attempted to re-emerge in her mind.

Peeking briefly over the corner of the wall, Gwen carefully made her aim at the witch slowly approaching.