Well, I actually have a short chapter this time! But, this chapter holds something special about our antagonist, Damian. This chapter is an entire flashback, but it's separate from the "past" storyline because it's a telling of what Rude and Tifa are seeing in the briefing file, and more. I'm kind of rewriting an event here, but it adds up to the characterization of Damian. Read it and enjoy.
Chapter 14: The Price of Freedom
"I trust your flight wasn't too horrible, Damian?" the man in the suit said. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."
Damian took a drag of the cigarette and tossed it into the ashtray. "What's the job?"
"Straight down to business, huh? I enjoy that," the man said. "No thoughts?"
"About what?"
"Midgar. And why you're back here."
He shook his head. "No. I'm familiar with it, though."
"Good," the man acknowledged. "Your target is a man on the run. Shinra Security has tracked his location and is advancing against him now. He's already taken out a squadron of Security troops."
"The man?" Damian asked.
The superior handed Damian a file across the table. Tank sounds could be heard outside, along with marching troopers. Luckily, the tent was there, otherwise they'd be getting mud all over themselves. The rain wasn't helping either.
"His name is Zack Fair," the man told him. Damian opened the file and looked at a few pictures of the young man. "Former 1st Class SOLDIER. He was picked up about 4 years ago at Nibelheim, during the incident there."
The hunter peered over the pictures a few more times. "What did he do?"
"He escaped a few months ago," the official informed him. "Shinra wants him dead."
"Why are we involved?" Damian asked, referring to the government.
"Because Zack knows something," the government official told him. "Investigators noticed that Mr. Fair had looked over some information regarding some of our more…confidential information. Specifically the EV Project. You're familiar with this project, I assume?"
He sighed as he continued to look through the folder. "Every bit of it, Mr. Smith."
Every superior Damian had met was named "Mr. Smith." He got into the habit of calling every contact that name, too.
"They tell me you're the best," he said.
"You're not the first one to say that," Damian muttered.
As the pictures and information passed through his sight, one particular photo completely caught his attention. It was him and some…girl. She looked very happy, and dressed in a beautiful white-and-red dress. It looked as though they were in one of the districts of the slums. He stared at the picture for a whole five seconds, examining her brown, beautiful hair, her captivating green eyes, and her painfully sweet smile. He felt a sense of familiarity with her, but couldn't feel anything beyond that.
"Any questions?" the man asked him.
"Who's this girl?" Damian asked. He handed the picture to the government official.
The government man looked at the photograph for a second. "You don't remember her?"
He shook his head. "No, but I recognize her."
"I see," he said, jotting down some notes. "I'll explain who she is when you return."
"Is this a game you're playing?" Damian asked.
"No," the man replied. "But giving information on her could skew your judgment."
"Clearly you haven't heard of me, then."
"Just trust our calculations, Agent Hunter. Please."
With a sigh, Damian nodded and tightened his recon suit. He checked the blade proof vest and the thin, but powerfully unique padding on his arms and legs. Damian loaded his sub-machinegun and checked his offensive handgun in the holster on his belt. Lastly, he put on the tight balaclava over his head, covering all aspects of his face except for his eyes. With the sense of readiness already within him, he stood there for the man's last words.
"Alright. A chopper will carry you to the location. You have to complete the job before the Turks come to get him," the government man said. "You're dismissed. Be back soon."
Damian nodded and slipped on a protective breathing mask so the cold rain wouldn't interfere with his confrontation. He walked outside into the downpour and breathed the damp air. Today was a fine day to kill.
Walking up to the loud chopper, he greeted the pilot and buckled himself into one of the seats. The chopper flew over hills, but it was only five minutes before it came to a halt. Over here, the sky was still clear as day, but he predicted that the clouds would soon move to cover up this area. Damian looked down below as the young former SOLDIER finished off a few more troops. He didn't look wounded, or tired.
The chopper lowered to a place a good few steps from where Zack was and Damian hopped out. Immediately, the chopper ascended again and flew off into the distance. He took a moment to survey the surroundings, noticing that they were on a hillside, and Zack had no place to escape. The Shinra troops that were advancing retreated at the sight of Damian, standing aside as the man came to do his work. Damian loaded the sub-machinegun and took a walk up the hill to meet Zack, who was cornered at the cliff.
At the sight of Zack as he made his way to the cliffside, Damian wondered why men like him would attempt to resist through force, which pushed them to their very limits; to the fringe of their wills. It was bad enough, he assumed, since the government even had to call him in to help.
The young soldier, running a hand through his thick, black hair, sighed while he shook his head.
"Boy oh boy, the price of freedom is steep," Zack said to himself.
Damian saw that he had heroic traits, all of which could be seen and heard through his last words and gesture. The woman in the photograph perhaps loved him, but why did a sense of hurt overcome his heart? He was neither angry nor sad, but satisfied in a painful way. It didn't matter. Damian ignored his emotions and returned to the subject matter.
"The cost of information is deadly," he told Zack.
"You're not one of them," Zack said with a grin.
He shook his head. "No. You know information that shouldn't be known."
"You're government, aren't you?" Zack then asked. "They sent you to kill me?"
Damian's voice had a corrupted sound as it passed through the protective mask. "That does not matter."
"Well, I read on that government file," Zack added. "Sounds a lot like what happened to some of us."
"I don't care."
"Look at you," Zack said to him. "Look at what they made you give to become what you are."
"I give it gladly," Damian said, gripping the sub-machinegun.
"Do you?" Zack gave off a smile. "You're not fun to talk to. What's your name?"
"I am death," Damian replied, drawing a combat knife to go hand-in-hand with the sub-machinegun. "The ender of all life."
The young man drew his blade and held it in front of him, shutting his eyes in meditation.
"Embrace your dreams," he muttered to himself. "Prove your honor—"
A few gunshots sounded into the open air, and three bullets hit his blade in succession, throwing his grip off balance, causing Zack to stumble backwards. He opened his eyes and gave Damian a surprised glare.
"There's no honor in battle," Damian said, smoke coming out from the gun. "There's only the survivor."
Zack stood back up and gripped his blade, ready to fight. "If you are death, then I am an angel, immortal in every way."
"An angel, huh?" Damian said. "I'll turn you into one."
Zack came rushing with his blade, but Damian easily maneuvered out of the way. Damian fired off a few rounds on the sub-machinegun, but the mako-fueled soldier's reaction quickly blocked the bullets with his blade. A look of astonishment filled Damian's face, but it could not be seen under the mask. This was the power of SOLDIER.
Before Damian knew it, Zack was already swinging that huge blade at him. He ducked and jumped out of the way several times, but the young man was much quicker than he seemed. Not only that, but Zack seemed to tower over Damian since he was 6'3 and Damian was only 5'10. He blocked the next hack with his sub-machinegun, but the blade was so powerful that it severely bent the gun. Before he could toss the gun aside, the blade nearly brushed the tip of Damian's arm. The next swing, however hit the mask that Damian wore, disfiguring his sight temporarily.
Falling backwards, Damian regained balance and watched as the rain clouds made their way over their heads. He stood up straight and grabbed the mask that he wore, throwing it away, along with the broken sub-machinegun. Taking a breather, he was somewhat relieved that Zack was such a fool to let him collect himself. Instead of talking, though, Damian readied his blade. After reviewing Zack's maneuvers, it was time for the offensive.
Zack stared into Damian's eyes, and the dark, piercing gaze was hard to look at as he brought his blade back into position.
Damian held the knife with readiness. The former SOLDIER burst forward again, but Damian quickly outmaneuvered Zack and managed to slice the end of his abdomen. Much to Zack's surprise, this enemy, too, was far different than the others. Instead of hanging back like he did a few minutes ago, Damian remained close to limit the reach of Zack's blade. Dodging elbows and kicks, he waited for the right opportunity. Zack threw one more roundhouse kick, and just like that, it was over.
The assassin caught Zack's leg and, with the blade, sliced the two tendons at his ankle and knee. It was such a quick flash that the young man didn't even notice. Damian let go of his leg and watched him struggle to balance. The first raindrop fell, then it began to rain. Hard.
Zack, leaning on his only working leg, stood up and attempted to lift the blade with his left hand. Damian rushed forward and sliced the tendon connected to his forearm, rendering his grip useless. Dropping the blade, Zack could not react as the assassin shoved the knife into his chest and landed a powerful kick that sent him flying back a few good feet, crashing and sliding across the mud on the high cliff.
The killer waited for a few moments, hoping that the young man was dead. Instead, Zack stood right back up and pulled the combat knife out from his chest, twirling it in his hands. Weakly, Zack held the blade-end of the knife and attempted to throw it at Damian.
Two shots rang out.
With widened eyes, Zack barely made out the handgun that was held in Damian's hands. He was surprised that Damian had brought the gun so quickly from his waist and landed the two succinct shots. It was like the thunder in the rainfall. The young man, weakened from the double tap, felt blood coming up from his lungs. He coughed out some blood and fell on his back, letting out a groan of bitter defeat.
Damian stepped up to the dying man and watched the life disappear from his eyes. It was a sight just like any other target. They all valued life towards their end, and Damian was indifferent to watching them die. No one truly valued life until death came upon them. However, this one couldn't be allowed to live any second longer. He held the pistol up to the dying warrior.
"Aerith…" Zack managed to groan painfully.
The name caught Damian's ear. However, he ignored the name and fired one last shot at Zack, hopefully killing him completely. If he were still alive, then he wouldn't have long. Damian held a finger up to the device in his ear as he began to walk back down the hill. Though he couldn't see it, a figure was crawling its way up the hill to meet with the fallen soldier.
Zack was now one of many heroes that the Hunter had brought down. Another dream destroyed, another life ended. Damian did not involve personal disputes into work, nor did he bring emotions into it. Murder was a trade, and the business was good. But he considered other things. What would he need the money for? He shook his head to repress the thought and continued.
"Moving to extraction," Damian said into the device. "Mission complete."
He could not cease his mind to continue wandering about the last breath that Zack let out.
"Aerith," he muttered to himself. The name was so familiar, but he could not recall. "Aerith, Aerith…"
Could it have been the woman in the picture?
Damian marched back down the hill to the flatland, where the chopper would arrive to extract him. The troops had already left the field, completely gone and nowhere in sight. Just a few minutes left before the chopper arrived.
When the loud, deafening noise of the blades could be heard, Damian stood up and awaited the helicopter to land. He watched as it nestled into the dirt and its back doors opened up for passengers. Walking up to the entry ramp, Damian's mind was still fixed on the word Aerith. Was it some sort of code? Did it bear any sort of meaning? Because he could have sworn he heard that name before.
The entry ramp closed shut and the helicopter began lifting off again as the killer sat down. He put the pieces together quickly, making several assumptions about the word Aerith, and the young man he had just killed.
Zack and Aerith. Zack is Aerith? No. Zack and Aerith…Zack and Aerith. Zack loves Aerith. Zack loves Aerith.
Aerith must have been the woman in the picture, he concluded. She must have loved Zack. It was a pity that their love was so short-lived, and that Damian broke it apart. He was the reality in this land of heroes; he was its judge, its law, and its rules. If they loved each other, then why were they separated? He was probably returning to her; a hero who could take all comers; a hero who believed that he could hold the world in his hands. Such men were not meant to last.
Damian pulled out a cigarette and a lighter and removed the balaclava mask as the chopper soared across the desert land. Lighting the tip of the cigarette, he took a drag and exhaled the comforting smoke, dismissing all thoughts and returning to his normal state of mind; lost in time and space forever. He was death, the ender of all life, the ender of himself. The unstoppable force.
And that was it.
Just another day at the office.
I know, it's a very strange chapter, especially Damian. I'll have it explained in the next chapter, which will come up very soon, so don't take too long of a break from the website. Interesting, new revelations will be revealed soon, and I'll explain everything. Stay tuned, guys.