"That Day of Infamy"
Chapter Eleven
"Pressure Mine"
(Day 6.)
The signs hanging from street lamps and monitors said EMERGENCY in bold, red letters against a white background. Lea didn't know what that meant, as the people she had seen so far appeared to be going about their regular business, a sight she could judge well and from experience. But in that moment, Lea could care less about what the other people were doing, and she hugged a street corner, away from watchful eyes, and took in the sight of it.
Esthar City was simply dazzling to her, a celebration of the continent's enduring legacy in sleek, beautiful, hulking giants of the skyscrapers rising all around her, and all of it bathed in the faint neon halos around the lights littering every corner, every window. Under the pouring rain, Lea walked, this time only hiding her face with the hood of her hoodie, because she couldn't replicate being non-existent, and couldn't shift the rain around her to mimic actual rainfall.
Josh would've loved this.
With a sigh, she reached and lowered her hood. She willed the illusion gone. There was no point in being in Esthar if she wasn't going to be seen. There was no point in going back to Winhill, in reliving those memories if they would not translate into what she wanted. She braced herself, took a deep breath and went back out onto the street. She stuck her hands into her coat's side pockets and hunched, eyes darting every which way. She could feel her heart beating hard in her chest as she caught the eyes of strangers but for stray seconds, and became convinced in that split-second of eye contact that they all knew who she was and why she was there. But then the moment passed, and in that split-second gap between the previous and the next involuntary eye-contact, Lea was relieved. Her heart kept skipping beats as she met the eyes of strangers for the first time in two years with the knowledge that they could see her, hear her, and knew she was there.
It was exhilerating, to be exposed and revealed at last, and although her purpose swam around in her head as she walked, trying to locate someone with authority, trying to announce her presence. That which she had tried to keep hidden was now screaming to get out, to be known and recognized.
I killed you, Lea thought, because I didn't want it known. I owe it to you, if nobody else.
Despite the state of emergency she had heard about on her second stowaway run from Trabia into the City, Lea was surprised to find nobody on the streets. She vaguely recalled a news report she had seen on the public TV in Timber, about Esthar keeping its own peace, but that was not-
The feeling came out of nowhere and slammed into her full-force, filling her up and rushing through her veins to enter her heart and from there, set her entire being on fire and made her miss her step. Lea stepped down from the pavement onto the road at an intersection. She felt as if a single, thin thread had been tied to every nerve ending, so many threads, and someone was pulling... pulling... pulling...
Lea raised her head ad glared at the bleak, gray skies.
There was music in the air, far and wee, music that she felt she must hear, louder. Better. Clearer.
The sound was pulling at her from above.
Down below, the catacombs laid silent, the eerie hum reverberating at the very foundations of it the only discernible ambiance for Artemisia as she descended the steps, one by one, her path illuminated by the LED flashlight in her hand. The steps that started out as marble gave way to stone, and darkness swallowed the residual light. Artemisia couldn't help but feel ground in the rather claustrophobic, narrow, spiral steps leading into equally narrow hallways of the Hall of Martyrs, and knew that it was because she had Brothers junctioned. Just her luck: she avoided the purer GFs like the plague, and having an Earth-based elemental Guardian Force helped her feel at ease.
It didn't change the weight of what she was fixing to do. It wasn't just treason, or even high treason – what she intended to do was the equivalent of blasphemy in the eyes of anyone, including herself. She had no desire to further her transgressions, as she already had an interview with IA later on that day, and after that, she guessed she wouldn't have much time left. The only way to make sure was to follow her instinct, which had been shaped after she had read Ellone Loire's diary.
Time Compression will allow for Ultimecia to shape the universe as she sees fit, as the only being capable of existing outside of time and yet as a part of it.
As anyone knew it, Artemisia thought, but was that the only way? Wouldn't she be proving them right if she did this? Wouldn't she follow the exact steps Ellone Loire had outlined for her?
Or, she supposed, would she be following those steps because she knew what they were, and from where she was standing, the path made perfect sense?
The steps ended and Artemisia was greeted with a narrow hallway lit up by embedded lights mimicking the flicker, color and feel of torch lights. It was all in the name of getting one in the mood for worship, Artemisia knew, to prepare one for veneration. Of course, the main hall, the large, circular space reserved for ceremonies also housed what she was looking for. There were a set of blocks on the far end, blocks with the same brass name plaques reserved for every other SeeD, except these belonged to a chosen few.
The Fated Children.
Artemisia hesitated. If she crossed the threshold and emerged from the hallway, she knew that she would not be able to stop. Her decision will have been made.
She remembered the diary. She remembered Ellone's assertion, as well as what she knew to be true: you couldn't change the past. You could affect your present and so shape your future – which was why:
But that is how Time Compression is supposed to work. Condense everything into "now" and make the end result the new shape of things.
Well... we'll see.
Artemisia marched forward towards the row of name plaques and stood in front of the one she was looking for:
QUISTIS TREPE
"Keep her there! Don't let her out of your sight! Signal all squads in Esthar to converge on your position, now!"
Quistis had forgotten her cane, Seifer noticed as he followed her run into the hangar bay, his gunblade in hand. Her breath was ragged, no doubt a result of the two years spent choking on cigarettes and booze, but she was alert, ready, and if Seifer was judging it right, panicking. The hallway leading into the hangar bay went by in a daze and they almost raced one another to get to the door. The call had come a mere three minutes ago, and then all they had done was to scramble.
Seifer had one hand on his comm-link as he ran.
"Kappa, Nu and Xi – abandon post, get the fuck over to Mu's pinged position, yesterday!"
Quistis pressed her and against the palm scanner that would open up the double-layered blast doors that led into the hangar bay. She was out of breath. The scanner bleeped and a loud, deep metallic clanging was heard. The doors began to slid open with a steady whirr, the mechanism keeping them locked disengaging along the way with the clacking of locks. Quistis took the time to steady herself.
"All those cigarettes." Seifer shook his head, "I tried one once."
Quistis could only glare at him.
"Not my speed, is what I'm saying." Seifer smiled, "Hyne, this makes the past two years almost worth it."
"Does it?"
The hangar doors opened completely and announced this with a loud thud. Quistis and Seifer walked into the smell of monomers, gun metal and engine oil, and the perpetual rush of air into the open space – the wooshing in their ears made them open their comm-links to the private channel. Dead ahead, in the center of the staging area was their hovercraft's familiar, navy blue shape; the golds and the whites of the SeeD Cross on its side a stark contrast with th body.
"What do you suppose she's-" Quistis began, but the open channel bleeped, cutting her off. She picked it up and Seifer joined in, "What?"
"Sir, she's... umm, I guess you could call it dancing."
Artemisia concentrated. She put a hand on the tomb of Quistis Trepe and pushed against it. Almost afraid she would be heard, she whispered:
"Brothers."
She felt the power surge rush through her as the horned Guardian Force materialized on her left and right. Artemisia didn't take his hand off the stone. She could almost feel what was behind it: a golden chalice filled with her ashes, and a vial of her blood, perserved to perfection. But she did not want to defile the tomb, far from it, all she needed was for the stone to cease being so solid.
"mistress calls."
"WE ANSWER."
"This stone." Artemisia said, "Shift it."
"SHIFT IT?"
"in what way?"
"Make it into dust."
"WE OBEY."
"we oblige."
Ani reached forward, and Artemisia stepped to the side to let him. The beast put his hand on the stone, and clenched its teeth. Artemisia could feel, through her elemental affiliations, the stone beginning to vibrate from the inside. A split second and she said, nearly panicking:
"Don't pulverize it! Just... sort of quietly crumble it, maybe?"
"as the mistress wishes."
"CAREFUL BRO."
"not a problem."
As Artemisia watched, the stone began to crumble to nothing but dust; the process started from the top and continued down. Artemisia heard the clank of the brass name plaque falling down.
"Stop." She said.
"halfway done."
"It's enough."
Artemisia reached in and grasped for the chalice. Her fingertips brushed the ornate surface of it and traced the etched carvings. Old High Estharian, her name and last name. Quustus Trepiru. Artemisia slowly reached atop the rim and dug into the ashes. She cringed. This was not okay. This was so not okay.
She finally felt the cold surface of the vial. She wrapped her fingers around it and pulled it out.
Lea heard hammers cocking back, their clacking loud in the hissing rain. She could feel it. This was it. At any moment now, they would shoot her down and there she'd be, at the end of her road. So much for going out doing what she was supposed to do. So much for giving them a challenge.
Lea thought about what she wanted to do in her last moments. The only thought she had was that she wanted to dance.
So she began.
Lea's right hand drew a graceful arc as it left her side and went up, and stopped just above her head. From there, she began. She was aware that there was a blockade around her, all four sides closed up and quickly filling with rushing SeeD squads, but she couldn't care less in that moment. She didn't know whether it was madness or finally snapping at the end of everything that had brought her there. The isolation, the loneliness, the guilt, the paranoia, the countless lives of others she had lived, residents, passersby, businessmen, cooks, soldiers... it all seemed to melt away as she moved, not caring about anything, not even the movements themselves, but the feeling that they carried. As her body twisted, writhed and bent, her arms and legs moved in this strange ritual, she felt the music grow louder, inch closer. She took two strides and executed a somersault, and landed smack in the middle of the intersection.
As the SeeDs and curious bystanders watched, Lea put her back into it and her movements grew mre and more urgent, more jerky. Taking wild, vibrant movement and wedding it to the subtler, more graceful sweeping motions, she danced, shaping worlds and empires in her wake, erecting monuments to the existence of herself, of her legacy. Of a Crystal Pillar now resting in Lunatic Pandora, of a piece of resonant rock that now vibrated in her very soul, and with it, in the air around her, in the music that was growing louder... closer now, ever closer... closing in...
...the sound of rain and her steps splashing the shallow pools of water underfoot accompanied as percussion...
Lea threw her head back and laughed. This elation, this boundless euphoria filling her – it washed away the corpse of her brother, the charred remains of her home, the years spent escaping everything and brought her into the moment, into the now, an she danced to its rhythm, arms and legs and waist and torso and neck and feet moving in strange harmony, moving her from one end of the intersection to the other, crossing the distance and the music, oh... the music of the spheres, the celestial harmonies filled her mind, screaming at her to continue, to dance, to dance and dance and dance until the crescendo washed everything away... to dance until there was nothing left of her, nothing left of anyone... of anything...
"What the fuck?" Seifer exclaimed as he moved to the front of the blockade. From his point of view, the Sorceress wasn't much to look at. Small stature, regular clothes. He felt disappointment creep in and wondered when he had gotten so jaded on the matter: she just looked like a regular teenager dancing under the rain, laughing with insane glee, moving as if she was following the memorized steps of an intricate routine.
"What is she doing?"
"She's been at it for the past five minutes, sir." The Mu Squad Leader told Qistis, "She didn't engage or say anything. She just sort of... let herself be seen."
"This isn't good." Seifer said, "Why reveal herself after all this time? And just to what, dance in the street?"
"Ellone did say she had probably hid around Timber for the better part of the past two years." Quistis said, "Maybe she finally snapped."
"So who do I have to fuck for a sharpshooter to take her down?" Seifer asked, turning to the squad, "I mean, it's not like she'll respond or anything, so, don't you you think it'd be... germane..." he trailed off. Quistis looked at what he was looking at, up above, and what she saw was a blot of black, like a droplet of ink on parchment, spreading... growing wider, spreading across the clouds above.
A garbled noise made of a thousand cries, shrieks, roars and other sounds began to resonate in the distance. It was far still, but closing in and fast, expanding as the shadow did.
"What the hell is that..?"
In the depths of her awareness, Lea felt it. A squirming, writhing mass of thoughts and memories all foreign to her. They were different lives, different people, and as she danced on, she felt them surface, one by one, and take over her moves for a fraction of a second each time. A flash and she was Rhea, tasting the flesh of the Strong God, feeling the blood, still warm, dripping down her chin. She was Rabia, fighting the Unknown King, who was cursing at her from across the battlefield, shaking his fist and screaming slurs of unimaginable magnitude. She was Inga, sinking Vascaroon's fleet into the ocean, feeling every ship pulled to the depths of the sea by unnamed creatures of the deep. She was Belea, pregnant and afraid, wandering the Centran Empire, with nobody but her unborn child to keep her company; and then she was wounded, a gash in her stomach, bleeding out her child's life, and so in a desperate bid, she found her way down to a national treasure and kissed the Crystal Pillar.
She buried the Centran Empire into the ruin and surrendered it to the monsters... save for one, tiny house of peple who had been kind to her in passing.
She was Panacea, the healer. She was Panacea, the plague upon the land.
Lea then split apart as more memories bubbled to the surface. She became Regina and Renata, twin banes who, out of the Dollet Empire rose to wreak havoc against the rule that had killed their parents for nothing (nothing at all.) She was Regina, shielding her sister with her body, committing suicide but failing at the last second and missing one crucial shot. She was Renata, crawling towards the stone house at the edge of Centra.
She was then Adel and Caleb, the only sorcerer to ever die, and the twin sister who absorbed him into herself to save him, killing him. She was Edea, taking Renata's powers unto herself. She was then Rinoa, waging a war she thought she could win, murdering many and crippling more, and casting illusions just to hide her shame. She was Rhea, on her knees in the snow, looking down the barrel of Brea's gun, wondering why she was so unlucky.
She was Elise. Untouched, brittle, insignificant Elise who had never even explored her gift.
She was Brea, smouldering, empty inside, empty but for the duty she had come to fill her life with... I did my duty, gave everything I had and it's not enough... it's just not enough...
...and then, she was herself. With the good and the bad, with the things she had done and felt and known and cherished, and with the monsters that had kept her company along the way.
