ElTangoDeRoxanne, I wrote an extra page for you! Cyber cookies for making my night with your new story!

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Balthier's eyes widened fractionally as he soaked in that detail, though he never removed his panicked gaze from Fran's struggling body suspended by sparking wires ten feet above the ground.

"And Queen Ishtar? What of her role? Surely she is not knowingly letting Dalmascan assassins to make attempts on the life of the most notorious pirate in Ivalice?" Munin asked. Vayne glanced to the side.

"Alas, her Majesty Ishtar is just a pawn on the chessboard of the Empire," a man said as he stepped out of the shadows. His face was identical to Munin's: the same length of black, glossy hair, the ebony gaze, the high cheekbones. However, there seemed to be a veil across his eyes.

"Hugin?" Munin lowered his eyebrows in a frown. "What are you doing here?"

"I would ask the same of you, brother. Uncle, has he come to try to take my throne?" Hugin turned toward the monstrous figure on the throne of Terminators. One of the skulls clattered its jaw at them.

"Perhaps." Vayne looked behind him. "Is Freyk here, too?"

"Yes." Hugin nodded, gesturing for the Judge Magister to come forth.

"Judge Freyk, get rid of them, these worms that have come crawling from the ancient woodwork, and get rid of those people who so fancifully call themselves the 'Resistance' as well." Vayne's smirk was like that of a Tchita serpent, deceptively amiable.

"Kill them?" Freyk asked, his invisible gaze lingering on Fran's writhing form.

"No… imprison them. The Viera will remain here with me. I would like you to know true fear, Ffamran, every second, not knowing if you are about to die. I want you to feel like the pathetic little mortal you are, not the fake god you imagine you have become." Vayne stroked a finger tipped with metal claws and burning with Mist down the center of Fran's back. She arched her spine and screamed as Mist flooded her body. Balthier took two shaky steps forward as if to help her, but collapsed.

Freyk stood over him, like a huge bat. "Not so high and mighty now, are you, pirate?" he kicked him in the gut with strength that the average human should not have. Several things in Balthier's stomach crunched wetly, and he coughed blood. "Thought you were better than everyone else, eh, you monster." Another kick. Balthier curled up in an attempt to ward off the blows, but they felt like hammers upon his arms. A bone cracked. John could only watch numbly as his friend was thrashed helplessly, and his partner tortured, her screams loud in his ears. Marcus jumped forward, but Hugin was suddenly in the way, twirling a Morning Star mace as easily as John twirled a practice stick. "Take that, you damned creature!" This time, a sword carved through Balthier's ribs.

"He ain't a monster!" Barnes yelled, and Freyk moved out of the way just as a shell from the soldier's rocket launcher blasted a dent in the wall. "I don't know what you're goin' on about, but Balthier's one of the best men I know, better n' you by a thousand miles, for sure! You call 'im a monster, but he ain't touched a hair on our heads! He and Fran have risked their lives for us on our Terminator hunt, which is more than what I'm sure you'd do for your people!" With that, he finished reloading his launcher and unleashed another round.

"Enough toying with them, Freyk. Didn't I tell you? If you give them time to talk, they might convert some of your troops." Vayne said lightly. Freyk bowed.

"Forgive me, milord. I forgot," he quickly pulled a length of rope from his belt, tying it around Balthier's hands and feet. The pirate barely even resisted— indeed, he was out cold. However, as he tied, he kept talking. "I see, so you're his friend. Well, I'm risking my life now, for the people of Archades, no, the people of Ivalice, by killing this fiend. How many people do you think can sleep well knowing this leeching, blood-sucking, pilfering, pirating vermin prowls the night, with nothing on its mind except dinner?"

"That's not true!" Barnes fired his rocket launcher again. "When he's hungry, he eats Fran!" The room was silent for a moment as all took in how awkward that sounded, and in the interim, Barnes reloaded and attacked once more.

The sound of Barnes's rocket launcher firing snapped the rest of the Resistance out of their stupor. John lunged for Freyk, while Marcus tackled Hugin. Freyk drew a huge sword from where it had been strapped on his back, wielding it easily with one hand. Thinking quickly, John blocked a heavy strike with his gun before Blair got a shot in with hers.

Hugin slammed the butt of his mace into Marcus's elbow, and the cyborg hissed in pain. Kyle tossed a bomb over his head, but a barrier blossomed to life around the Emperor. Munin glanced at Vayne, who was the one who had erected the paling.

"Look at them, Munin. Look at them! Look what kind of men you have fallen in with, if indeed you can call them men. Those 'Resistance' members are gutter churls, not worth touching this Ivalice. And look here at this creature…" he stroked Fran again with his Mist claw, and she trembled. "Can you even call it a woman?" Munin squinted at her. Come to think of it, there was something horribly uncouth about her. "And now look at that beast lying on the ground. He was a man, once, but he gave it up for immortality— nay, perhaps even before that. Perhaps it was on the day he chose to raise a sword against me."

Munin struggled against the fog pressing down upon his mind, drowning him in his own thoughts. "These people…" he gasped, but Vayne's smile sapped at his will. "These people…" The fog was so stifling! "These people… should be locked away." He finally conceded.

"There! I knew you would see it my way." Vayne snapped his fingers, and suddenly, Marcus, Blair, Barnes, and Kyle dropped to the ground. As if resisting, John slid to the ground slowly, glaring at them balefully.

"Munin, you backstabbing bastard!" he snarled as Freyk bound his hands.

"Take them to the brig. Perhaps they will have time to think on their situation there." Hugin commanded. Freyk bowed before tying them together and leading them away.


John leaned back against the bars of the brig, resting his head on the cool metal. All of them had been allowed loose once inside, except for Marcus and Balthier. Marcus had his arms shackled to the wall, and Balthier dangled from the ceiling, wrists tied together over his head. He looked very uncomfortable, even unconscious.

"Well, what now?" Blair asked, tucking her knees under her chin. "We went after those Terminators, only to find that a god was what we were up against, not some machines."

"He broke them so easily! I mean, look! He's using them as a chair!" Kyle babbled. Marcus sighed.

"I never thought Munin would betray us like that, though. I thought he was okay, but then he betrayed us."

Barnes shook his head. "There's something wrong with him, an' same with his brother. Vayne is manipulating them, somehow."

John blinked. "How do you know?"

"Same way I know if someone's okay or not." He placed a hand over his heart. "You feel it in here."

They languished there for perhaps two hours before Balthier woke up, and by that time, he did not seem to be doing very well at all. Blood still dripped from his lips, and his face was an unhealthy white color, black veins and arteries standing out against his pallid skin. Worst of all, his wounds were not healing. Blair voiced her opinion he might actually be dying for real. Balthier shook his head.

"I'll know when my number is up. Fran will die, and I will follow instantaneously. I am naught more than a shell with a soul bound to it, after all," he said, coughing. Blair offered him a potion bottle, but he refused. "Save it for yourselves."

After an hour more, he began to wheeze unhealthily. Apparently, the loss of his lung was starting to trouble him, and he stopped breathing. "Take off my vest, please, somebody…" he whispered. John obliged, attempting to pick at the complex knots and ties, and eventually, he managed to get them undone. Kyle gasped.

Balthier's abdomen was a mottled patchwork of bruises and welts. He was clearly bleeding internally, his stomach slightly distended from the amount of blood building up inside of it. "Cut it," he said tightly. "I don't want it to heal that way."

"You're insane!" Kyle yelled, "What if Blair's right? You don't need any more holes in you!" John had already drawn his rusty dagger.

"Move it, Reese. I'm use to this." Kyle looked very green as John went to work, and even Marcus, who had been a hardened criminal, felt sick at the sound of ripping flesh. Blood splashed to the floor like a waterfall, but by the time it stopped, the sky pirate seemed much more relaxed. John also took the opportunity to saw through the rope binding Balthier to the ceiling, and the pirate dropped to the ground with a grunt.

"So, the plan is this: we're going to rescue Fran, kill Vayne, do something horrible to Freyk, and get Munin and Hugin back on our side. Everyone understand?" John asked as Balthier began springing Marcus from the wall.

The sky pirate glanced at him. "It's too simple. We don't even have weapons." John held up his knife.

"We have a rusty dagger, and we have Marcus, and we have you. And all of us are trained in hand to hand combat. Not to mention, I've got an Esper, and don't you have some, too?"

"Good enough." Balthier conceded. "I've gotten out of prisons with less, and this brig is not half as bad as the one on the Leviathan."

Using a bomb made from a piece of Fire magicite Freyk hadn't thought to confiscate, they quickly escaped the brig, making for the bridge once more. John hung back with the sky pirate, who seemed to be having trouble walking.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Balthier gave him a silver glance that quickly darted on and away toward the front again.

"My legs are numb, and my fingertips, too. It's… troubling, but… let's keep going."

After a few more moments, the sky pirate tripped going up the steep flight of stairs that came out of the brig. Barnes caught him before he tumbled all the way to the bottom again.

"Is it your legs again?" he asked, but the pirate shook his head.

"Merely distracted. Mist…" the pirate said meditatively. "There's a lot of Mist here. Too much, even for a ship powered by the Sun Cryst."

"Do you know what it means?" Marcus looked down at them from the top of the stairs.

"No." Balthier replied simply, and John seemed perturbed by the pirate's lack of vocabulary. He wondered if his tongue was going numb, too. Meanwhile, the sky pirate was poking about between the metal slats that made up the staircase, muttering to himself, until finally, he slid his entire arm between the stairs and yanked.

Something popped, and Balthier grinned as he examined his prize. It was a small tiara, made of gold, with a shining white and yellow jewel set upon the tip. With ease, he snapped the jewel out of its housing and paused. Slipping the tiara into a side pouch, with a grimace, he lifted his shirt and slid the jewel inside the unhealed hole in his stomach. Blair looked ready to puke off the side of the staircase. "It must be somewhere Vayne will not think of when he senses its presence. This little jewel is our ace in the hole," he explained shortly. "I really love Fran's sense of preparedness, sometimes."


Somehow, along the way, they'd stumbled into the weapons room, and John fondled his machine gun with almost disturbing glee, before turning to Balthier, who awkwardly fumbled with his musket.

"You sure you're alright?" John asked, concern wrinkling his battle-scarred brows.

"No." Balthier whispered, before collapsing to the ground for the second time in twenty-four hours. Kyle was at his side instantly.

"Balthier!" he cried, grabbing the prone sky pirate's hand and checking for a pulse, before remembering he had none. "Crap! Is there any way to check that he's okay?"

Marcus shook his head. "The only one I can think of is checking on Fran, and are we really ready to face that metal winged monster sitting above us? And Freyk, who is stronger than Balthier and I together?" John wiped his hands, stained black, on his pants.

"We have to. If Fran and Balthier are dead, so are our chances to get back to Earth," he stated, slinging the apparently dead pirate's arm about his shoulders. Marcus took the other, and they maneuvered their way into the bridge like a drunken crab. What they saw in the bridge filled them with shock!

Fran hung in the wires like a marionette. Blood traced down her legs and pooled beneath her dangling toe-tips. Vayne flicked a metal tipped finger carelessly, examining her limp body like one would a broken toy.

"It would appear I was too rough in my methods," he said coolly, glancing at John and Marcus and the pirate they dragged between them. He turned to Freyk. "And it would appear that you were too lenient in yours. That measly little heart of yours will be the death of you, Judge Magister," he drawled.

"I will take care of them." Freyk bowed.

"Please do."

Freyk jumped at them, his sword whirling, and Blair barely had time to get out of the way before it came whistling down, denting the metal floorboards. Kyle quickly sprayed the Judge Magister with shot, but he dodged all of them but for two, ignoring the holes punched in his armor.

Barnes went for Hugin, attempting to wrestle him down, but he badly underestimated the Emperor's prowess, falling to the ground as his feet were swept from under him. However, he managed to plant his feet firmly in Hugin's stomach, and shoved, sending him tumbling backward. Growling obscenities under his breath, the young Emperor wheezed for breath. John and Marcus, however, went for Vayne. Munin took three steps forward to intervene before John used to but of his gun to bludgeon him across the face. His nose snapped, and blood sprayed the ground, but he immediately retaliated, scoring John's right arm with a rapier. Vayne regarded them all with boredom clear upon his features, and when Marcus got close enough, moved just to the side, revealing one of the Terminator's heads. Its jaw cranked open, and a blast of fire issued out. Marcus rolled, putting out the flames, but a long skeletal arm, coated in metal, snaked out to pummel him. With a bear-like roar, he grabbed the limb and ripped it free from its housing, before plunging it through Vayne's chest.

Vayne blinked and gave a puzzled cough, but flicked his wrist. Marcus went flying across the room, slamming into a control panel. Reaching up, the ancient ruler jerked the arm out of his chest, examining it and tossing it aside, before taking aim with his cannon arm. "I told you, you cannot kill me, for I am a god, and you are a lump of metal soon to be scrapped."

However, as if a spell had been broken, Munin dashed forward, slamming his shoulder into the cannon. The shot went wide, taking chunks out of the surrounding walls. In the same movement, Munin flipped over Vayne's arm, landing next to Fran. Uncorking an X-potion bottle and shoving phoenix down into her hand, he doused her wounds in potion, and forced the rest of it down her throat.

Fran coughed and spluttered, her skin steaming as the potion healed the numerous cuts on her arms, legs, back, and stomach. Munin quickly cut her down from where she hung, captive.

"I have figured you out, Vayne Solidor!" Munin shouted. "You sent out a signal calling to Freyk and Hugin's ship when they visited Rabanastre, and curious, they investigated, whereupon they found you very much alive. From there, you promised them power and prosperity, and Freyk fell first, for he has always been an avaricious man. Hugin took some convincing— and you had to Charm him in the end, just like me!"

Vayne began to laugh, throwing his head back. "A thinker after my own heart. That is true— that is absolutely true. But even if I have lost you and Hugin, Freyk is ever so much more useful than the two of you stubborn brats will ever be. He had partaken of my power, and like the Dalmascan assassins, he is also mine." He advanced on them, towering even over Barnes, the tallest of all of them. He extended a hand, impossibly huge, over their heads, looking as if he were going to crush them under his fist, before his hand stopped, held up by none other than Zalera the Death Seraph, his bony back bowed under the weight.

John gaped up at the Esper, then glanced down at his wrist. Some blood had leaked down his arm, right across the brand, and activated it.

What shalt thou have me do, O Hume of mine? Its voice was deep, resonating within his mind.

"Fight for us— get rid of Vayne, get rid of Freyk, I don't care! Just do something!" John stammered. Zalera shrugged off Vayne's hand, and the Undying studied him with cool indifference.

Foolish master… The power of the god inside his body prevents me from killing him outright, and Freyk is under the thrall of that power. I can do nothing, Zalera said.

"Then possess Balthier." Fran suggested from where she leaned against Munin for support. "His soul has been separated from his body because I almost died, but it is still chained to the medallion in his chest. He will return later: and he has no need for his body right now, but we do."

The Viera is cruel. Zalera's laughter echoed inside their minds, even as purple and black energy crackled in the air. After a moment, the Esper faded, changing into a cloud of purple mist that eventually settled over Balthier's prone form. The sky pirate's eyes opened, focusing on Freyk with a bone-white gaze, before he bared his teeth and lunged. Freyk barely had time to move before Zalera procured a dagger of dark magic between his fingers and swiped at him with it, slicing through his armor with deadly ease. Freyk put a hand to the breach, gasping for breath.

"You broke my paling! What devilry is this, pirate? What new trap have you contrived?" he shouted. Balthier, or rather Zalera wearing Balthier's body, cocked his head, narrowing his colorless eyes.

I make no traps, nor weave webs of deception with which to entrap thou, mortal. Even an Esper has its honor, he said without moving his lips, though they heard him well enough. Freyk drew his sword.

"Then I shall meet you in kind!"

They engaged again, and Freyk managed to carve a small channel in Balthier's shoulder. However, Zalera's black dagger sliced off Freyk's arm. Blood dripped down his armor, boiling and hissing out of the wound.

Thou art outmatched. Zalera stood over him, twirling his sparking dagger with ease through his long fingers, not fearing any cuts. Thou shalt yield unto me.

"Never! Never, never, never! I can never fall to you, heretic! You are damned, you are a criminal, you are a gods forsaken monster! The like of me can never fall to you! Never! Nev—!"

His speech ended abruptly as his head was separated from his shoulders by one smooth stroke of Zalera's unstoppable knife. It thumped to the ground with a metallic clang, rolling across the room and leaking a trail of blood as it went. The body itself keeled over sideways, Mist pouring out of bones laced with nethicite, before it exploded.

The purple mist surrounding Balthier lifted, and he wavered, slowly sinking to his knees next to the shattered corpse, head bowed. As the mist departed, they could hear Zalera's voice, deep and terrible.

Come, silly mortal, come with me— no peaceful sleep of the realm beyond shall I grant thee. There is a price to pay for rising against the god of the dead, and I shall exact it with great pleasure. As his laughter faded, so did the sound of Freyk's screams.


Blech.