The Brimstone Tower
Chapter 12
Screaming run
A/N: This initially was going to be with the last update, however I couldn't mesh it enough for my sensibilites, hence the split. So, here's the final half of the "leaving Midgar" segment. Enjoy. Kasan Soulblade.
The night had bits of thier own maddness in it, that final night. Filled with screams of thier shattered memories and the omnipresent grinding of earth on stone.
The planet was wounded, not scared or merely damaged, but wounded, and that wound threatened the life never mind a millenia had passed. The flesh of the world was rimmed with ice to numb a millenia's old pain, the callous hand of geological pressure had ground the edges of the gash so that there was a massive slope of pebbles among the ice. Beyond that, of the wound's depth and width, little had been done. And logically speaking nothing could be done to remedy the situation.
What could a lone planet do against the tides of cosmic fate? As for it's children, those few scattered mortals who could hear the cries, they were all gone now. A footnote in a history that was thick with dust.
Inhabbited by those truely deaf -not the willing deaf- the planet went on, wounded, unheard, and steadily dying.
They braved the wound and it's writhing dark. Thin beams of artificial light poured out from the cylinders that they braced in thier hands. Light preceeded them as if it was a weapon locked and loaded. Sometimes the light caught the edges of some crystal, only to wink back at them, othertimes it glanced off the hide of some shadow born horror that melted under the assault. Once -thank holy it was only once!- it had caught the eyes of a horror of more mundane in orgin and the guns had come out.
Thunder had roared under the crust of the earth then, artificial thunder with steel tipped heads as a point instead of forked lines of lightning... Still, it was the first thunder to reach down so low, and the cavern's ceiling above... it shivered.
And then came the screams.
The high pitched shrill scream -a child's- rang in Tseng's ears, recalling his darkest day, his greatest failure.
The sound torn from her own throat, born of recolection, Elena's ears were assaulted by the sounds of her own terror.
Eyes wide, frame shivering, Rude would only say that the voice was familiar, only that, but the cries -tailor made, planet given- that assaulted his ears made him weep.
Rufus would never speak of the sounds he heard, but as he listened he reached out and held the howling Dark Nation to his side.
Later, in saner places and saner times, they would recall thier descent as the screaming run. That timeless span where under the earth every nightmare was given voice and that voice had an audiance of one...
"Move!" Reaching for Turk and President alike Tseng snatched at the front of the coat of his nearest victum. Only knowing that whom he grabbed was warm and living Tseng roared at them, shoved them forward... A sense of motion told them that his first person had come to enough to follow orders. Satisfied that his efforts had sunk in the Wutia grabbed the second person, another "pep talk" at gun point got them running in the right way. One of them hesitated, in the dark he couldn't tell who it was or why. Aiming low he pulled the trigger. Thunder sounded again under the skin earth, red dots the color of freash blood -friction born, quickly doused by the below freezing air- illuminated the shards of rock that his bullet had dislodged. The identity of his near hit was still a mystery, and Tseng would go on never knowing if he had shot at President or fellow Turk. Reaching in the dark and finding no one else to grab the Wutia descided that enough was enough.
He managed to work his way up from a limb nump limp to a staggering run. The omnipresent cold was quick to suck down the last dredges of his energy, his bones ached and his teeth chattered even as he pressed on.
Ahead, thier herald in the winding, screaming, dark, was a familiar voice croaking in pain. Scarred by stigma and flame, having had to endure reconstruction surgeries of a horendous scale, Rufus was having the most difficulties. But he was in the lead by the sound of it, nevermind the pain in his bones and the cries of a world gone mad Rufus Shinra would lead.
And his Turks would follow.
XXX
From dark to light they went. The ground before them once a featureless mass that they stumbled over became streaked with a familiar green. Mako hued light tumbled upon itself, coiled amongst the cracks of the earth it made it's serpintine dance across the floors, highlighting the jagged edges and making pools of illumination on the smoother spans. From floors it ascended, clawing it's way up the harsh angles and burs that were so common to broken earth left untended.
"Mr. President!" Nothing more than a scream could have cut over the hellish canophony that sounded in thier ears, still Rude managed both the scream and a shove.
Staggering under the blow Rufus avoiding walking over a pool of green liquid only by falling on his knees before it.
Beautiful yet venomous, powerful yet deadly, such was the nature of Mako. Seeing only light, only knowing that he had to run, Rufus had forgotten such basic truths and had almost waded into a puddle of Mako. He'd almost treated the planet's very blood as if it was water. Elena came forward then, offered a hand, and Rufus took the prooffered support.
"Just a little further, sir!" Elena hollared.
Managing a sketchy nod of acceptance Rufus stood, his eyes were wide and haunted.
XXX
The endless caves would live up to thier namesakes. Vaugly Rufus recalled a report over a decade out of date with his father's signiture on the front. Some first class SOLDIER, Zack Fray-something-or-other, had braved the winding darkness to find what lay in the tunnel's heart. As they went down Rufus wondered idly at the final report. The final ten pages had been torn out and the document, and that was probably the only reason the Shinra even recalled it.
Whatever lay at the bottem though was a minor mystery that had teased his curiousity. Occasionally, that is, when he had the free time to wonder at something as abstract as a vandalized report. Even when he'd set his mind to the papers they hadn't been so great a curiousity as to be clasified as a bother in the files of his mind. He'd recall the missing pages, idly twine the possibilities in with the fingers of his mind, then let the speculation drop from his grasp and set his wits to more pressing problems.
Whatever lay on the bottem was most likely kill them, and even as he thought that he realized that the dark behind them was stirring. Glints of dead yellow were flickuring into being in the few smears of mako-tinted dark all around them.
Elena whirled, seeing the dark comming alive she pulled out her gun and fired at the nearest pair of eyes. In repsonse those pin pricks of rotten yellow swirved towards them. Turning, Rufus joined the futile gun fight, unshipping his Griffon he managed a few shots on the dark, but he might as well have been shooting at the shade. Rock chips went flying and the eyes continued thier approuch. At some unseen unheard signal they began to peal away from the earthen walls and some even rose from the floor. Black sillouettes, untouched by the planet's light, so dark they hurt to look at...
"Levianthan." Tseng mouthed the word, unable to even force out his final cry of defience. The Turk was that spent. Grimly the Wutia pulled his silver katana from the strap that it had hung from, the way he carried his weapon on his person was SOLDIER styled, -Contenentalism at it's peak- the way his hands closed over the hilt and the stance his feet took... it spoke of a Wutia heratige.
A roar from behind stopped them all, the dark featureless figures went still and as one the Turks and thier President turned.
Shining in the mako-light was a serpent of vibrant green that was too bright to look at. As one the dark clad and the darkness adverted thier eyes. Another roar sounded, and to that sound Dark Nation opened his own jaws to offer a howl of his own. The panther-hound's cry of defience was smothered by the shear volume of the creature's cry. Blindingly bright jaws parted showing slivers of glistening silver, a tongue of glistening emeralds flicked forward, caressing the edges of silver. Then, impossible though it may be -the whole tunnel ahead of them was filled with the thing's face and those blazing green eyes- claws squirmed arround the creature's face, squirmed and reached, reached and grabbed. The first motion forward was ponderous, slow, as if the shining creature had to test the edges of the reality it must break, then to dragged it's bulk soundlessly forward. No rocks crunched under the beast's frame, no scrape of claw on earth herladed it's approuch.
"Levianthan!" Tseng swore.
Nevermind the gesture was suicide at it's peak, the Turk leapt forward, his blade held high. With a cry Elena opened fire, Rufus' gun joined the fray, and Rude shoved past them all. Death by tooth, by claw, was preferable to those claws of dark, and they all lept at the opportunity to honestly die. Bullet's passed through the creature's form, causing shivers to appear, cracks weeping glistening green appeared at each point of impact. Then, the final blow. Silver struck and parted the beasts' snout at at that final strike the reptialian facade began to break away. Moment's later, taking the beast's place, was a writhing mass mako in it's purest form.
Not one of them had time to scream before the lifestream overtook them all.