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Revised: 3/8/11

~~ 11 ~~

PROGENY OF AN OLD FOE

Denzel ducked down and with fearful amazement peered at the newcomer outside the window. He'd never seen a human like it, if it could even be called that. Its pastel red skin appeared to be smooth minute scales, and shoulder length blood-red hair was thick and slicked back. The humanoid creature was tall and when it turned, he saw stunted black wings on its back, but not wings that had feathers, more like frills of a lizard. But aside from its monster appearance, it was obvious the creature was female, and it was gazing about the platform, as if searching for something or someone. Sooner or later she was going to discover him or worse, Shelke. Denzel inched closer to his weapon, leaning against the control panel.

Noticing the movement, she twisted her head sharply. She spotted him and her eyes glowed crimson, and lifting up a type of blade, she spun it in a circular fashion.

Denzel raced for his gun-blade and the door.

She fired a blast of materia energy, exploding the glass into a million shards.

He rushed out before she could discharge another one which might hurt Shelke, or do more damage to the computer system now the window was completely gone. She halted when he came out to meet her, his blade raised at the ready. Holding her arm forward, she pointed her weapon at his face. They stood for moments, staring at each other in a standoff. Not only was the creature remarkable, Denzel found her blade fascinating. She held two joint curved blades at the center and the blades themselves looked as if they might fold away into one weapon. It wasn't so much a blade as a bow that seemed capable of shooting materia fire. But it wasn't the time for him to study weapons – no matter how interesting. "Who the hell are you?" he drawled, looking up from her black boots and taking in the sheen of her lustrous red skin and blue-black chest plate, revealing scaled bare arms. "Or is that, what are you?"

"Simple human, I am the Crimson Army." She postured before him, unafraid.

"Right." He looked over her shoulder and creased his brow in concern, hoping there wasn't going to be any more of her dropping in.

Speaking with a dialect Denzel could not discern, she continued, "Rosso lives on in her progenies."

That was a name Denzel had heard before, and hearing it now, alone on the platform did not sound promising.

She spun her bow-blade again, passing it to her other hand. "You will not find here what you are seeking."

Unlike her, he did not relax his sword arm, but remained rigid in anticipation. "And what is that exactly?"

She made a grumbling noise that might have been laughter. "Those things that are most important to you."

He scowled at the creature's presumptuous attitude and that she was right. "I really hate when my enemy knows more about me than I know about them." But right than, he was glad the woman didn't know about Shelke jacked into their system as they spoke.

"Inferior beings will never rise above their masters, you are condemned to die." Her voice was sultry, almost seductive.

"Does that have anything to do with this Purification Program?" He watched the flicker of recognition in her eyes – not that he needed it.

Stepping near to him, she swung her blade, till the tip stopped at his face. "It is the destiny of all humans."

Denzel raised his blade at her as he eyed her weapon. "Screw your destiny I've got my own plans."

"You talk boldly for one so young." A forked tongue flicked out from her mouth, licking her lips, as her mouth formed a cruel smile. "I will enjoy feasting on one so arrogant." She slashed at his neck, making it obvious she had finished with talking.

He was expecting a reaction, but not one so swift. Even so he moved with abrupt speed to impede her advances. The thought of being eaten by her was a great motivation to keep out of her line of fire. With only the use of one blade, he found it a challenge; although, he was astounded by the strength coming from his blade as he repelled her strikes coming fast and wide. Even with the change of power in his sword, all he could manage right then was defending. He couldn't seem to get past her double blades. Mustering all the speed he had, he pushed in on her. Her large weapon was unwieldy in the tight space between them and he could use that to his advantage.

Their sword play became a flurry of harsh thrusts and constricted evasions, with neither of them getting a hit in. Unexpectedly she stepped a few paces from him. Lifting her weapon, she pointed it at him and a blast of fire come from its center. In the same instance, he leaped to the left, now understanding how lethal her bow-blade really was. Near or far she had the advantage. In the space of seconds, he switched on his com link, remembering its existence. Nearly straight away, Cloud yelled in his ear.

Denzel responded, "We have a visitor." Suddenly pausing, she stared through the broken window. Her mouth contorted into a scowl, showing extended fangs, and elevating her bow she took aim this time.

Cloud voiced his alarm, but Denzel was reluctant to tell him Shelke was indisposed. "I can manage." Of course he could manage, well, that was the plan at least. Denzel shouted at the monster, "I don't think so," and fired his weapon. With remiss, he thought he should have at least taken better aim. The power coming out of the gun sent not only her colliding with a metal support, but he fell with a thump against the wall behind him. Briefly, he glanced at his weapon with awe, before diving from the fire bursts coming his way. Now he knew she was pissed. At least he could see a wound on her chest, not that he could tell if she had slowed any.

"Where's Shelke?" Cloud cried.

How did Cloud know Shelke wasn't there? After a frustrated pause, Denzel replied, "She's… SND."

He had no idea what Cloud was saying to him above the blood pulsing in his ears as he tried to outrun her attacks. He ran along the platform with her firing after him. Thankfully there was a three second interval between her shots, giving him a chance to shoot again. He fired. She ran fast, avoiding the bolt of energy that cut through the support beyond. She whipped around with her long blades, and coming towards him, she fired. Managing to roll in time, he scampered out from under her fervent slashes, and tried to gain a better footing. Again, he attacked with his blade – but this time he sensed his body wearying. Leaping up, she fired again. He managed to deflect the brunt of it with his blade, but still the force knocked him backwards. He hit the railing hard this time and clutched at his throbbing arm that caught the blow. On her rapid downward swoop, her blade was at the ready to stab into his unguarded flesh with a direct hit.

Amid a charge of black, and blond hair, Cloud appeared standing over Denzel, halting her blade mid-strike. Cloud, and the one who called herself Rosso, locked swords and pushed on each other for tense moments. Her eyes, fixed on his, glowered with wrath and he returned the same hateful glare. He threw her off with his sword. As she flew back, she aimed her bow and fired. He rushed at her while deflecting the blast and swiped at her, sending her down. They both landed heavy on the platform.

Denzel stood, rubbing his arm and wondering if he should be doing something to help. But there was no opportunity in their fast paced sword-play for him to intercede. He watched in wonder as Cloud met her blow for blow, but cutting through all her strikes, putting her on the defensive. He had never seen him fight with such rage; all his hits seem to be driven by fury. But then again, Denzel knew that was exactly what Cloud was feeling.

She moved away from him, panting hard, and her arm was left hanging limp at her side.

Cloud stood ready to pounce again. "Where are Tifa and Marlene?"

She lifted her lip in a snarl. "There will be more to come. I am just one of many." She stumbled, and running backwards towards the railing she managed to fire another sphere of energy.

Cloud ran at her, wrath filling his face and stopping the shot with his blade, he charged at her. "You're not getting away this time." He ran her through as she stepped onto the railing ready to plunge. Gasping and breathing her last, she slid off his sword and fell into the darkness below.

Denzel ran to the railing to watch her descent, making sure she was gone. There followed dull thuds and then only a breezy silence. He muttered, "…she said she was… the Crimson Army."

"Rosso, the Crimson." Cloud leaned on the railing, looking down. "I remember her. But… that wasn't her; not like that."

Denzel nodded, looking away. "You know…I… couldn't…" he wanted to say he would have failed – eventually, but he couldn't voice his inadequacies even to Cloud. She was a tough opponent.

Cloud rested a hand on Denzel's bruised arm and his temper diminished. "With that type of enemy you have to press in constantly or seek some cover." He glanced around the platform, which had virtually none. "But this is why you need to fight with friends." After examining Denzel's forearm, he patted his back in reassurance. "You just lack experience, that's all."

"I guess. Shelke—" An austere beep from within the Data Room and more importantly Shelke's SND monitor, interrupted his thoughts. He and Cloud shared an anguished gaze before Denzel raced inside with Cloud following.

The screen had lines of text, but Denzel was preoccupied with an orange light flashing on her control panel. Concern shadowing his eyes, Cloud looked over the text. "What is it?"

"A warning." Denzel back-tracked the data on the screen.

Avatar corrupt. Injury Incurred

New mission directive.

Hostile interference. Energy drain.

Mission has been compromised.

Download current files.

*MIND BREACH THREAT*

The final transmission was not like the others. It flashed orange and repeated itself over again. The system itself was signaling the warning. "Damn!" Denzel cried, slamming his fist on the armrest. "What am I supposed to do to help her?"

"She's not coming out of it." Cloud lifted her slight wrist, lifeless in his hand. "Do we wake her?"

"No." Denzel dropped his head in thought. "She won't wake—" he nodded towards the screen "—unless her mind returns."

Across from them, a processor started taping out printouts. Cloud went to the stream of paper jolting out. "It must be her?" he started reading. "I don't understand this read out, but…"

Denzel checked the paper trailing from Cloud's hands. "Yes..." There was enough information to get excited about, but… he grimaced, "It's garbled…"

Cloud went back to Shelke and held her hand, as if in hope she might wake from the touch. The screen continued flashing the same warning, but he switched off the noisy alarm.

"The information seems to be mixed in with program text, as if the machine is unable to translate its language." Denzel studied the words that he could discern and he could presume it was like a type of code. "or it's mixed in with layers of data."

"Can you translate it?"

His hands hung by his side as he gazed at Shelke with growing sadness. "I don't know for sure. Shelke is the only one I know who could do it. I will try." He plunked himself down with the read-out.

Cloud turned back to her, sitting motionless in the chair. "Hang in there, Shelke. Keep fighting, wherever you are."