Chapter 7 is here! (Sorry about the wait – crappy Internet connection, computer needed reformatting, and worst of all – I ran out of tea!) I think music for this chapter should be something tense and dramatic like Nightwish – End of all hope. So without further ado, let's get on with the action and violence!

"Life is a blade, existence is pain. I only exist to serve the purpose for which I was created – to serve the Empire, to kill the enemies of the Emperor, and to fulfil the glory of the Centran Race, the true masters of this planet. Death to all who oppose the will of Centra!" – Marcus 'Brute' Kensai, at approximately seven years old. (Exact birth date classified, by order of the Emperor of Centra)

Chapter 7: Highway to Hellfire

"So what is a GEC, anyway?" Selphie pushed the engines to maximum speed. "I mean, he can't just be a machine, can he? He's human, right?"

"Probably not." Said Quistis. "At least not by our definition of human. Centra wanted to create a war machine out of a person, and their biotechnology could do things we can hardly imagine, even eighty years later. They could have done anything." She looked at the others, all gathered in the cockpit of the Ragnarok. "And they probably did."

"So what happens when we get him on board?" Irvine asked.

"Don't let him near the controls." Quistis warned. "Or any other important area. We can't afford to trust him."

"You think he can fly the Ragnarok?" Selphie exclaimed. "No way!"

"He's a war machine, Selphie!" Quistis shook her head. "The finest Centra ever created, and that's saying a lot! They would have trained him to use any weapon, artillery, or vehicle on the battlefield. We can't let him get his hands on the Ragnarok."

"Why'd they do that, anyway?" Said Selphie. "Centrans made the best war machines ever, more than enough! Why make machines out of people?"

"Who knows?" Irvine shrugged. "Mad bastards, all of 'em."

"Better concealed, and more versatile, probably." Said Quistis. "Normal war machines are easy to see, and can usually only operate on one type of terrain. Remember the Galbadian 'Black Widow', on your Seed exam?"

"Yeah!" Selphie nodded like she wanted her head to fall off. "I thought it was gonna kill us! That was powerful!"

"Only on land." Quistis corrected. "Against an airstrike, it wouldn't stand a chance. And on sea, it would sink. Even if I hadn't destroyed it with artillery, once the Seed boats left the shore, it couldn't follow."

"But Marcus could?"

"Exactly. He could hijack any vehicle, use any weapon, steal an enemy uniform and blend in with their soldiers, and nobody would notice until it was too late. No need to refuel, no need for maintenance. Just give him an order, and he'll kill anyone you tell him to."

"Following orders…" Selphie bounced in her chair. "Protect Ellone! That's what he's been ordered to do! It has to be!"

"Of course!" Quistis couldn't believe she'd missed something that obvious. "Why didn't I think of that before?"

"You're blonde." Said Irvine.

"That's why he didn't kill anyone at the hospital! Minimal force in self-defence, lethal force when carrying out his orders! It all makes… What do you mean, blonde?"


The body of Marcus was motionless and limp, hanging from the chains. None of the mercenaries paid him much attention, believing he was helpless, not a threat.

Their mistake.

Warren was in charge. Quick, agile, and cunning, but lacking in strength. Attack with brute force, overwhelm his defences before he could react.

Max was big and strong, but lacking in speed and flexibility, confident his muscle would protect him. Appearing clumsy at first would make him arrogant, careless. And then, dead.

The rest were of no consequence. Rank and file all, hired muscle. Easily disposed of.

Marcus remembered the vehicle stopping just before he lost consciousness for the second time. Strange. They wanted to bring him to their master, so why the delay?

Someone punched him in the face. Marcus endured the flash of pain, moaning faintly as if semiconscious. His wounds cracked open, bleeding anew.

Warren was a gifted torturer, but still an amateur, while the Centrans who created Marcus had been true masters of the art. Marcus still felt pain, from the knives gouging deep into his flesh and tearing his skin off, but he always felt pain, so that meant nothing.

And physical mutilation meant even less. Marcus knew it was meant to break his spirit, shatter his ego by making him look hideous, convince him that he was helpless to stop them. A highly effective method, as Warren clearly knew.

But only effective for humans, when Marcus was nothing of the sort. Melissa had told him once that looks didn't matter, that only what was inside mattered. Marcus hadn't told her that he already knew, that he'd always known.

Because on the inside, he knew he was a monster, more hideous and terrifying than a demon from the deepest pits of hell. That was what really mattered. However disfigured his appearance, it was nothing compared to that.

Had Warren been smarter, and more skilled, he would have made an acceptable Centran. But the Centrans were extinct.

And soon, Warren would be joining them.


"Remember, Marcus is our only objective here." Quistis warned them, as they gathered in the Ragnarok cockpit. "We already have equipment ready to call the Centran base, so all we need to do is get Marcus onboard the Ragnarok, then get him to override the base security."

"Can't we blow them all to smithereens?" Selphie kept glancing back while piloting the Ragnarok, which worried Quistis quite a bit.

"No!" Said Quistis. "Marcus is the priority. The people holding him are not our concern. We'll kill as many as we need to, but no more. We can't afford any distractions. Understand?"

Selphie and Irvine nodded, and after a moment, so did Rinoa.

"Right. Now, we'll go over the plan one last time."

Irvine yawned theatrically, but Quistis ignored him. "Once we reach the vehicle, Selphie will match their speed, and Irvine will maintain covering fire. Once we're directly overhead, myself and Rinoa will form the assault team. Rinoa?"

"Yes." Rinoa folded her arms. "The lorry has two carriages, with a sealed passageway between each. Brute is in the front carriage, chained to the wall in the middle."

Quistis watched the sorceress carefully. She'd been silent when they left the Centran base, but slowly became more rational as time passed, even giving a full description of where Marcus was being held. Quistis still wasn't sure if she could trust her like this, but she didn't have much choice. If Rinoa could control her emotions for long enough, this mission should be fairly straightforward. If not…

"Most of the guards are in the last carriage. Myself and Rinoa will lower ourselves onto the roof of the first carriage. Once we land, we climb down to the passageway between the carriages, and set two explosive charges, which are magnetized. Once they detonate, the front carriage will be blown open to allow us access, and the passageway will be blocked off, sealing the rear carriage and keeping the troops inside out of the fight. Once inside, we get to Marcus, and protect him while killing everyone else inside the carriage. Then we free him, get out and back onto the roof, attach ourselves to the harnesses, and climb back inside the Ragnarok, so Marcus can contact the base."

"What if Brute won't order the base to release Squall?" Rinoa asked in a flat, dead voice, voicing the question nobody wanted to ask, and Quistis didn't want to answer.

"Then we make him talk." Quistis answered, not liking that Rinoa had never referred to Marcus by his actual name. Quistis wondered if making Marcus seem less of a person was Rinoa's way of preparing herself to commit murder, then decided she wasn't going to think about that. "Whatever it takes. Just don't kill him."

"He has to live." Rinoa hissed. "He has to talk. Nothing else."

Quistis wasn't going to think about that, either. "Okay, we'll be there soon. Everyone to their positions." Irvine left for the cargo bay door, but Rinoa didn't move.

"Rinoa?" Quistis asked.

Rinoa didn't respond, still staring at the wall, not moving a muscle.

"Rin?" Quistis repeated. The magical aura surrounding the sorceress spat cold fire, raging against Rinoa's will. "We need Brute alive."

"I know." Rinoa hissed.

"But do you accept it?" Quistis knew she was pushing her luck. If her questions made Rinoa lose her temper, the Ragnarok was scrap metal, and there wouldn't be enough left of the people inside to fill a thimble. "This isn't his fault. He's not to blame."

"He took everything!" Rinoa screeched, her eyes burning vivid red as Quistis stepped back. "Before he came, we were happy! He took our lives from us, he stole our future! He has to pay!"

"Okay." Quistis knew when to give in. "But he has to talk to the AI first, to free Squall. Remember?"

Rinoa nodded, and Quistis left her alone. She hoped that once Squall was safe, Rinoa would return to her senses. She didn't think about the alternative. She had enough to worry about.

Irvine was tying one end of a long strap around his rifle, the other end already tightened around his wrist. He wasn't usually in the habit of dropping his gun, but with Selphie's taste for aerial acrobatics, anything was possible.

"Irvine?" Quistis hoped this conversation would go better. "You're sure you can maintain covering fire at this speed?"

"Nah." Irvine shook his head. "I just wanna see how long it takes to get myself shot." He loaded a magazine of armour piercing rounds. "Any more daft questions?"

"One more smart remark, Irvine…" Quistis ignited a fire spell in her hand. "And your hat gets it."

"You can't do that!" Irvine jammed his cowboy hat over his head with a look of horror. "This is my lucky hat! I'm always lucky when I'm wearing this!"

"Lucky?" Said Quistis. "You wore that on our first flight in the Ragnarok, and Selphie nearly flew into a cliff. You wore it when fighting Seifer, and he nearly cut you in half, before he slipped in your spilt blood. And you wore it when fighting Ultimecia, when she killed you, and we only just resuscitated you in time."

"Exactly!" Irvine tied the hat around his head securely. "Think how much worse it would have been without my hat!"

"Never mind that now. What about your harness?"

"No way, Quisty!" Irvine shook his head. "Sniper got to have his arms free. I wear that, it's gonna slow me down."

"And if you don't wear it, you'll fall out the shuttle when Selphie does a sharp turn! Just put it on, Irvine. That's an order!"

Quistis entered the cockpit, ignoring Irvine as he muttered something. For once, Selphie was sat perfectly still.

"Ready, Selphie?"

"Yeah." Selphie was quiet, not her usual exuberant self, and said nothing more. Quistis turned to leave.

"It's not his fault." Selphie said quietly.

"What?"

"Marcus. He didn't tell the AI to kill us. It's not his fault." Said Selphie. "Rinoa and Squall are always fighting. She can't blame him for everything. It isn't fair."

"He's Centran." Quistis answered. "Not even human. Just a machine, made to kill anyone, destroy anything."

"He didn't ask to be Centran." Selphie murmured. "He didn't want to be this way."

"But that's what he is." Quistis quickly left the cockpit, understanding why Squall had always hated giving pep talks.


"Is anyone following us?" Warren asked the driver.

"No, Sir. But what if we're attacked without warning?"

"Impossible." Warren smirked. "Esthar are too slow and stupid to find us, and even Seed would need a miracle to know our location. And even if they did, Squall Leonhart commands Seed, and our employer knows his every move. We've caught them by surprise, and they don't know what we're doing, or who we work for. He'll want more information. As long as Squall's in charge, they'd never launch an all out attack this early."

"I don't think Squall's in charge any more, Sir."

"What?"

The driver pointed out of the window.

Warren looked, and saw an enormous Red Dragon diving out of the sky towards them.

For a second, there was nothing but terror. Then his senses cleared, and he saw it wasn't a dragon, but a Battle Cruiser, state of the art and bristling with armaments.

"The Ragnarok…" He breathed, grabbing the comm. His boss had warned him of the ship, one of Seed's greatest weapons. "Evasive action! Maximum security around the Centran, shoot to kill any intruders! Max, you and your men open fire with everything you have! Destroy the Ragnarok!"


"We got them!" Selphie's voice came through the comm as the Ragnarok cargo bay door slid open. Irvine took aim, glad he hadn't worn the harness like Quistis had been moaning about. A sniper had to move his arms.

There was something about the situation that seemed weird, though, and he finally figured out what it was. For once, everything was going according to plan, with no surprises. But something always went wrong on a mission. This wasn't normal.

Then he saw a panel slide open, to reveal two men carrying a rocket launcher.

Damn! Irvine put a hole through the first man's head. "Step on it, Sefie! They're aiming a rocket!" As Irvine reloaded, a third man replaced the first, aiming straight for the Ragnarok.

Too late…

Then the Ragnarok banked sharp left. The rocket fired, roaring through the air the ship had occupied only a second before. Irvine's shot missed as he tumbled forward, arms flailing desperately, but only grabbing air.

Irvine's last thoughts as he fell out of the cargo bay door were Yep. Everything messed up and back to normal.


"Thanks, Irvy!" Selphie janked the steering column back so it was level.

The comm was silent. "Irvy?"

Quistis looked back at where Irvine had been. He wasn't there. But his harness was. And it was empty.

Her mind froze solid.

You don't wear it, you'll fall out of the shuttle… Of all the things to be right about, why did it have to be this?

"Irvy?" Selphie shouted into her comm. "You okay?" She turned to Quistis. "Is he okay?"

Quistis imagined what could happen; Selphie screaming in pain and loss when she knew Irvine was dead, Selphie losing control, crashing the Ragnarok and killing them all.

"He's fine." She lied. "Something wrong with his comm. Just keep flying."

"But…"

"Focus on the mission, Selphie! They could fire another…" An explosion rocked the Ragnarok, which went into a dive. Selphie yanked on the controls, and deafening alarms went off all over the ship as it juddered, before tilting back upwards slightly.

"What happened?" Quistis shouted over the alarms.

"Stabilisers took a hit! I can't keep her steady!"

"What about the auto-repair?"

"Not enough time!" Selphie struggled with the controls, but it wasn't enough. "We're coming down too fast!"

The Ragnarok lurched again, and Quistis felt her stomach match it. "Get us over the water. We'll have to bail out!"

"She isn't responding, Quisty! I can't control her!"

Quistis resisted the impulse to argue, knowing it wouldn't help, but not knowing what would.

Then she saw Rinoa, crouching with both hands on the metal floor, waves of magic pulsing between her fingertips. Quistis almost asked what she was doing, but kept quiet, not wanting to disturb her.

Magic pulsed and flowed through the hull of the Ragnarok, and the ship suddenly soared upwards.

"We got it back!" Selphie squealed, correcting their course and holding the ship level.

"The stabilisers are repaired?" Quistis saw Rinoa still crouching, still focused on her magic.

"No." Selphie looked at the panels. "That'll take a while. Rinny's just keeping the Ragnarok steady."

"How long before repairs are complete?"

"Ten minutes, maybe." Selphie shrugged. "But we're still flying!"

Irvine's dead, Selphie piloting, and Rinoa's stuck here Quistis thought. No backup. I'm all there is.


For the first time ever, Irvine was grateful for Quistis nagging at him. He'd never wear a harness while shooting people, but if she hadn't kept going on and on about safety, he wouldn't have tied the safety rope to his leg.

Which led to another first time ever, dangling upside down from the Ragnarok. His comm device had fallen off, but he still had the most important things – his hat, and his gun. He yanked on the cord on his wrist, pulling the rifle down, or up, into his hands.

There was an explosion, and the Ragnarok was coming down. Irvine traced the shot, a man with a grenade pistol, and aimed.

His head was about to smack into the road in several seconds, but that didn't matter to Irvine. There was just him, his gun, and the target. Nothing else.

The man raised the pistol for a second shot, and Irvine put a bullet through his head. Irvine reloaded, looking for the rocket launcher. He's gonna reload…

But he already had. The guy with the rocket launcher was aiming for the Ragnarok, and a guy beside him was aiming a submachine gun for Irvine.

Great. Two targets, only time for one shot. Shoot the guy with the gun and save your life, but the Ragnarok would be hit with a rocket, killing you anyway and everyone else with it. Pointless. Seed rules would be to shoot the guy with the launcher, saving your team but sacrificing your life, and dying like a hero.

But Irvine didn't do heroics, and he never played by the rules. He adjusted his aim, and fired.

His aim was perfect, the bullet sailing inside the muzzle of the rocket launcher. His armour-piercing rounds were the best available, able to drill through solid metal with ease.

And the rocket inside the launcher was a solid metal case, around a high explosive charge.

As the launcher was about to fire, the rocket detonated. The man holding the launcher vanished instantly in the explosion, the gunman next to him consumed in the resulting fireball an instant later. The back of the carriage was blown apart, charred corpses tumbling out onto the road.

A body fell with arms outstretched, making Irvine wonder if they were still alive. Then the body smashed through the windscreen of the large jeep following the truck, effectively deciding the issue.

Reasoning any other targets would be in hiding for a bit, he started climbing back up the rope to the Ragnarok. He didn't want to be left hanging.


Quistis strapped herself into the harness, and checked her weapons. Whip, Guardian Force Ifrit, explosive charges, smoke grenades, submachine gun, and long knife. All present and correct. No backup, but that couldn't be helped.

No battle plan survives contact with the enemy.

"All set, Selphie. Lower me down." She stepped out of the cargo bay door, and quickly descended. She focused her mind on the mission, ignoring all distractions, as a Seed should.

Then she saw Irvine, who waved at her with a grin as he climbed back up to the Ragnarok. How did he…?

"Quisty!" She was on the roof of the first carriage, and Selphie was yelling in her comm. "Quisty, you zoned out or something? You gotta release the harness!"

"I know!" She growled. That bastard…

She released the harness, then armed an explosive charge, making it magnetic. She threw it against the rear wall of the carriage, and it stuck fast.

Entrance to Brute's carriage achieved.

Quistis armed the second charge, then threw it against the passage between the carriages.

Troops in second carriage disabled.

"Rinoa?" She hoped the sorceress could still spare enough magic to sense their target. "Where's Brute?"

"Crouching on the far side of the carriage."

"Tell me the moment he moves." She pressed both detonators simultaneously.

The explosions were impressive, blowing a large hole in the first carriage wall and leaving the passage to the second a heap of charred metal. A hail of bullets flew out of the hole in the first carriage, fired in panic, and she waited.

The guns went silent, and Quistis threw in a smoke grenade through the hole.

More gunfire. Quistis swung herself down by the side of the hole and waited. The gunfire went silent.

She took out her submachine gun, but continued to wait. A few more shots were fired, then silence again. "Rinoa?"

"Clear."

Quistis leaned across, and sprayed the entire carriage with automatic fire at head height. She heard the screams, the thud of bodies collapsing to the metal floor.

She leaned back, taking cover as the few survivors returned fire, then jumped inside the carriage, firing at head height before rolling and coming up in a crouch next to a dead body. She rushed forward, running into someone standing up. She fired a burst, and he fell. She kept moving as bullets zipped past, but they were aimed at the noise she'd made, and missed.

Quistis ran to the far wall. The smoke would soon clear, and she had to be quick. Where is he?

She heard the faint rattle of chains close to her left, and moved towards it. Her hands gripped an arm, and the chain around it. Marcus tensed, and Quistis reached for her gun, thinking he was about to attack her. But Marcus just moved his arm to the side, stretching the chain tight, making it easier to break.

Quistis cast a fire spell on the chains, thrusting her long knife through the links for added leverage. This shouldn't take long. Marcus was strong enough to…

She saw the sword cutting out of the smoke just in time, and ducked. With no time to uncoil her whip, she went for her gun, but her assailant knocked it out of her hand then kicked her in the stomach.

She fell back, her hand grabbing around a chain. She summoned her magic again as her attacker appeared out of the smoke, sending intense heat through the metal as she sent a bolt of fire towards her enemy.

A faint green light surrounded her attacker, the flames scattering against it before fading away. Quistis glanced at the chain she'd held, and saw it was holding Marcus's legs to the floor. Not much good, even if he can break it…

Her attacker was grinning. "I'm shielded against magic, bitch. You can't hurt…" A snap of heated metal drew his attention, then two legs chained together slammed into his chest.

Ribs shattered, and the man fell to his knees. Quistis knew that was a mistake, and was proved right when the legs wrapped around the man's neck, and squeezed. The man choked, pulling desperately to free himself, but then the legs twisted, and his neck snapped.

Quistis dived for the body, searching for the keys. Finding them, she turned to face Marcus, and gasped.

The Centran's upper body was a mass of blood, and most of the pale skin had been torn off his face. Gory pieces of flesh littered the floor.

Marcus looked at her, his midnight eyes strangely calm. "Now my arms."

How can he be so calm? Quistis freed him quickly, remembering when Squall had been tortured at Galbadia prison. Squall was one of the toughest Seeds in Garden, but even he'd needed a few minutes rest after they release him. Marcus was in far worse shape, and still ready to kill. "You okay?"

"I still function." He stretched once, his wounds dripping blood as they cracked open, and nodded towards the body.

Of course. Killing's all he does…


Irvine climbed into the Rangarok, wondering why Quistis was on her own, and hoping Rinoa hadn't gone mental. "Sefie?"

No answer. He could see Rinoa doing some magicky thing to the Rangarok, but Selphie looked frantic, stabbing at buttons even faster than her usual hyperactive self.

"Selphie, darlin'! What's up?" The roar of the engines drowned out his voice, but she should be able to hear him over the comm…

Oh, yeah. Irvine found a replacement comm, tuned it to the coded Seed frequency, raised the volume, and put it to his ear.

"IRVY!" The deafening howl shoved an ice pick through his brain.

"AHHH!" Irvine turned the volume back down. "Sefie! Not so loud, dammit!"

"Irvy?" Selphie turned round, and he saw she'd been crying. "You're okay?"

"I was!" Irvine could feel his head splitting. "You know I love it when you scream my name, gorgeous, but this really ain't the time, yeah?"

"Why you…" Selphie flushed red. "You disappeared! Quistis was lying to me, and…" Her voice got even louder. "I thought you were dead!" She was screaming now. "Why didn't you answer me?"

"What with?" Irvine turned the volume down further. "I lost my comm when I fell out."

"You fell out?" Irvine wondered if the volume was low enough.

"Hey, me and the Ragnarok just went fishing. I was the bait." He reloaded his rifle. "Why's Rin still here?"

"She's keeping the Ragnarok flying!" An alarm sounded on the control panel, and Selphie beat it with her fists until the wailing stopped. "They hit the stabilisers!"

"And thanks to me, they didn't hit 'em twice." Irvine aimed the rifle at the lorry, looking for targets. "But you can show your appreciation later. What's Quistis up to?"

"She's released Marcus."

"Whoah!" Irvine whistled. "He's loose, he's mad, and he's got lots of people to take it out on. Glad I'm not in their shoes."

"But she says he's severely injured! They tortured him! He'll be weak."

"Don't think he does weak, Sefie. Guy like that's only ever one of two things. Ready to kill, or dead."


Quistis heard the sound of gunfire, and ducked behind a crate. Marcus followed, returning fire with a pistol he'd taken from his first kill, but his shots missed. Quistis fired, killing one, then heard a sound close by.

Her gun swung around fast, but Marcus lashed out faster, the heavy chain still attached to his wrist as weightless as a silk scarf. A man was just visible in the smoke when the chain caught him in the face.

Quistis fired a quick burst, but hit nothing. Marcus quickly dragged the body behind the crate, then pointed behind them.

Quistis looked, and saw a faint depression in the wall. Just like the hidden doorways in the Centran base.


In the driver compartment, Warren cursed. The Seed were supposed to be careful planners, not launching a reckless all out attack. The boss had got it wrong.

Well, the boss would pay. They had a contract, but contracts were easily broken by death, as Warren had proven several times before.

But he couldn't let Brute join with Seed. Brute would identify him, and then Seed would hunt him down, wherever he tried to hide. Brute had to die.

Warren drew a machine pistol, and opened up the hidden passage to the first carriage. He crawled through, careful not to make a sound.

Reaching the other door, he slid it open silently, and looked through. A woman with blonde hair was several feet away with her back to him.

Warren remembered what his boss had told him about the Seeds. Quistis Trepe. One of the team that defeated Ultimecia. Strategist, planner, uses a barbed whip and magic in combat, and is good with both. He extended his machine pistol…

A hand locked around his wrist, pulling him out of the passageway with a force that nearly tore his arm off. Before Warren could fire, his wrist was broken, his gun torn from his grasp.

The cold muzzle of a pistol pressed between his eyes. He looked up, and saw Brute.

"You didn't kill me earlier." Brute said. "That was stupid."

Warren was forced to agree.

Then Brute pulled the trigger, and Warren was nothing at all.


Quistis ducked behind the crate as her opponent fired back. This was taking too long. She had to finish this now.

She pulled the body beside her, and positioned it ready. This had better work… She shoved the body upright and into the open.

Quistis looked over the top of the crate a second later, as a burst of automatic gunfire caught the corpse in the chest. Her target just had time to realise he'd been tricked into breaking cover, then Quistis fired her submachine gun in his face.

"Effective." Marcus stated from behind her. Quistis turned, to see him taking a machine pistol from a corpse.

"Their leader." He indicated.

"Good." Quistis didn't like the way he was waving his pistol. "And us?"

"Us?" Marcus looked blank.

"You tried to kill me."

"Likewise." Marcus held his right hand up, showing the scar tissue in his palm.

"You attacked us without reason." Quistis pressed.

"I believed you were a threat to her. I was wrong."

"So what now?"

"She has made her wishes clear." Marcus tilted his head in a strange gesture. "She doesn't want you hurt. I won't attack again. I can't."

Now Quistis was even more confused. She'd thought someone ordered him to protect Ellone, but Ellone being the one in command? It didn't make sense…

Ellone had power over time, the ability to send people into visions of the past, but Marcus didn't seem to want anything from Ellone, except to obey her every command. But why? Apart from her unique ability, she was ordinary, having no military training or political power.

But now a Centran killing machine was ready to kill for her, die to protect her, do whatever she wanted. Ellone promised she knew nothing about it, and she wouldn't have lied about this. It wasn't about her stepfather, President Laguna of Esthar, or her stepbrother, Commander Squall of Garden, as Marcus hadn't shown any concern for either. But before Squall killed her, Sorceress Ultimecia had been hunting Ellone for years. Where was Marcus then? And why appear now, when apart from the Adelists, Ellone wasn't in danger?

Too many questions. "Then let's go. We need to get on the roof."

"Confirmed."

Quistis ran towards the exit hole. "Selphie?" She spoke into the comm. "We're clear. Get ready for pickup once we're topside."

"Gotcha, Quisty!"

She climbed up, Marcus right behind her. Only a few more steps, and…

"Quisty!" A gunshot rang out as Irvine voice's barked. "You got company!"

She looked back, and saw mercenaries breaking out of the second carriage, swarming towards her.

One fell, shot through the head by Irvine. He kept firing, killing with every shot, but there were too many. "Sefie! We need more firepower!"

"She's not steady enough!" Selphie lowered two safety harnesses from the cargo door. "I can hardly keep her flying!"

Quistis swung up onto the roof, then knelt to pull Marcus up after her, casting Protection spells on the both of them. That would stop a few bullets, but it wouldn't last long.

A volley of gunfire hit the Ragnarok, forcing Irvine to take cover as the craft veered erratically. Marcus emptied his machine pistol at the mercenaries as Quistis took out her last explosive charge – she'd always believed in carrying a spare – threw it in front of the gunmen, and pressed the detonator.

The explosion blew the mercenaries apart. Quistis backed away to the front of the carriage, knowing more were coming. "Selphie! It's time to go!"

"But she's taking too much damage! Even Rin's hardly keeping her steady!"

"Selphie, we'll be taking too much damage if we don't get out of here! Just…" She dived as bolts of magical fire flew past her. The harnesses were hit, consumed by flames in an instant.

Quistis might have panicked that their only escape had been blocked, but the mercenaries were about to reach them. Quistis fired, but only managed two bursts before her gun ran empty. She threw it down, readying her whip while casting Fire spells with her other hand.

She killed two, then one got past and went for Marcus. Quistis cast an Ice spell on the floor as another mercenary rushed forward, causing him to slip on the ice and fall off the carriage.

More men were climbing up. "We need to knock them off!" She shouted in the comm, but there was no answer.

There was a scream behind her, and she turned to see Marcus lifting the mercenary above his head. The Centran snarled, throwing the body into the soldiers, knocking them all off the carriage roof.

Marcus fell to his knees, coughing blood. "What's wrong?" Quistis asked.

"Not long now…" He didn't sound worried. "Too much damage…"

And if he died, so did Squall, Zell, and Seifer. They had to finish this now. Quistis checked the other mercenaries were still some distance away, then concentrated, summoning Ifrit, the Guardian Force of Fire.

A large muscular man leapt between the carriages, rushing at Quistis with a massive sword, to stop her before she could complete the summoning.

Marcus blocked his way, sweating heavily. "Max." He spat blood. "You will die now." Quistis watched mutely from her summoning trance, unable to help. Marcus was tired, and by human standards should be almost dead by now, and Max was bigger and more muscular. But Marcus was a GEC, a Centran war machine made to be unbeatable in the field of battle.

For the first time ever, she hoped the Centrans had been right.

"Yeah?" Max grinned. "Funny. You look weak, Centran. You can't even stand without shaking, and I'm a born killer."

"Birth is an accident." Marcus was calm. "I was designed to kill. You are not my equal."

"Equal to you?" Max spat in Brute's face, hefting his sword. "I'm better. And I've got the weapon."

Max moved impressively fast for someone his size, swinging low to cut Marcus in half. But Marcus was faster still, jumping over the blade to kick Max in the face. The Centran rushed forward as he landed, knocking Max back with a flurry of punches.

Max bellowed in rage, and headbutted Marcus before stabbing for his throat. Marcus rolled to the left, sweeping Max's legs out from under him. Max crashed into Marcus as he fell, taking the Centran down with him. Both of them sprang to their feet, grabbing the sword, pushing the blade against each other.

The blade slowly moved towards Max. The man roared in disbelief. "You can't!"

"I can." Marcus sneered, pushing the blade further.

Max howled in rage, muscles bulging, and the blade stopped. Then it began moving back towards Marcus.

Marcus snarled, but the blade kept moving towards him. "You can't stop me, freak!" Max bellowed. "I told you! I got the weapon!"

Marcus shifted his balance, and let go of the sword. The blade nicked his shoulder as it fell, cutting deep into the metal floor and holding fast. Max screamed in rage, forgetting his enemy for a moment as he tried to pull the sword free.

Giving Marcus enough time to grab Max above the neck, and twist.

Max's eyes widened, then his neck snapped. Marcus let go of the body, and it slumped to the floor. "I am the weapon."

A demonic beast materialized above Quistis, wreathed in flames, sparks crackling from the twin horns from its head. Ifrit roared, a blazing inferno gathering in its hand. Ifrit lifted the fireball high, then threw it at the second carriage.

The carriage exploded sky high, a burning hulk of flames flying into the air before crashing down on the road in pieces. Burning shrapnel flew past, one hitting a thick rope dangling from the Rangarok.

"Quisty!" Selphie shouted through the comm. "Grab on."

"You first!" Quistis ordered Marcus.

The Centran looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Because more lives depend on you! Move it!"

Marcus jumped, catching the smouldering rope. Quistis saw the fibres began to tear under his weight. "Hurry!"

He climbed fast, a body length of rope snapping off just as he climbed past it. Quistis studied the rope, knowing it was too high for her to jump. "Selphie! You have to go lower!"

"I can't! Rin's at her limit! Go any lower, we're gonna crash!"

"Then lower another rope!"

"We don't have one!"

Quistis cursed. Marcus looked down, then stopped climbing. Quistis looked back.

Marcus suddenly slid down the rope, gripping the end of it tight with his legs, then letting go with his hands.

His body flipped upside down, and his midnight eyes met with Quistis. "Jump."

Quistis hesitated. He'd tried to kill her days before, and there was a slim chance she could climb to the driver compartment and take control of the lorry. Could she trust him? Could she trust a Centran killing machine to save her life?

"I was insane." Marcus stated in his cold voice. "I have recovered. We were both protecting her. We are not enemies, as long as you let the past stay dead."

The past… Centra. It had to be.

The last sentence decided her. A liar would promise you anything, because they never kept their word, so it didn't matter. Marcus was setting conditions, knowing if she tried to bring back the Centran Empire, he'd have to kill her.

"Done." Quistis ran forward. On her last step, the carriage shook, juddering sideways. She was too close to the edge to stop, so she leapt, hoping she was close enough.

She wasn't. She fell through the air just past Marcus, closing her eyes, knowing that she was about to die, but that Squall and the others would be safe.

Something grabbed her arm, pulling it tight. She opened her eyes.

Marcus had hold of her wrist with both arms, snarling in pain as he tried to pull her up, fresh blood dripping from his arms.

Quistis would have tried a Cure spell, but she knew that healing the wounds wouldn't help. Fatigue and muscle damage was the problem, and they couldn't be cured so easily.

Marcus gasped, and his arms started to tremble. That was a bad sign. So close…

Marcus closed his eyes, muttering something. Quistis struggled to listen.

"Existence is pain." He said. "Existence is pain. Existence is…"

Then he screamed, and kept on screaming as he pulled her up. She reached out, the rope coming closer and closer.

She took hold, sighing in relief. Then she climbed upwards, looking down at Marcus. He gasped for breath for a few seconds, then started to climb.

"Selphie, we're safe. Pull away. Head for the Centran base."

The Ragnarok turned, pulling away from the road to fly across the ocean. The turrets on the aircraft turned towards the lorry.

The guns opened fire, showering the lorry and its remaining carriage with bullets. "Booyaka!" Selphie yelled one of her favourite made-up words as the lorry exploded.

Quistis watched the detonation as they flew away, feeling satisfied. They'd made it. Once on board, Marcus would make the call to the Centran base and set Squall, Zell and Seifer free. Then they would discover the connection between Marcus and Ellone, and everything would be all right.

Silly Quistis. That sounds too good to be true, and guess what… it is! Get ready for a race for the finish line, coming up in the next chapter, Counting Down! On your marks…