Disclaimer: We don't own nothing, so there.
A/N: Holy shit man. Seems I'm never able to keep up with deadlines. You guys can give up hope on the next chapter coming out sooner than a month later - you'll be extremely lucky if it does. However, that doesn't mean this fanfic is abandoned - it just means that it will update very slowly. Poly really keeps me busy. Either way, you guys know the drill - review once you're done. Thanks much. I wonder if Kal has been waiting for an update before proceeding on with Revolt... Haha!
By the way, if you guys see blatant Bleach or DBZ rip-offs, those are intentional. I've just started watching the animes recently, so it's quite the source of inspiration.
Chapter 20: Et Tu, Brute?
Ever since the Tiberium missiles launched by Kain had devastated Victoria Island, the Ant Tunnels had been sealed off to the general population. The entire tunnel network had been classified as a Red Zone, deemed unable to support any form of organic life, and any trip down into the tunnels would be considered a suicide run.
Ryden didn't intend to let that be a hindering factor. The very first thing he did was head to the nearest GDI armory, suiting up in one of the Zone Trooper powered armor suits and departing immediately for Sleepywood. Zone Trooper power armor was one of GDI's most advanced infantry armor suits, second only to the MJOLNIR and KATARN-class armor suits worn by commandoes. Zone Trooper suits were available only to specialist troopers who had to make the occasional but necessary trips into Yellow Zones, and even more rarely, Red Zones, to obtain Tiberium samples for GDI's research teams to analyze, and the suit was specially hardened to block and absorb the lethal radiation levels emitted by Tiberium crystals.
Ryden was going to need that protection – the suit catered mainly to distances involved in travels to Yellow Zones and the borders of Red Zones, but nobody had ever wandered as far as into the center of a Red Zone before. At the most it would provide an hour of protection before the suit itself would begin to be converted into Tiberium itself and Ryden would have to ditch it.
If an hour was what he had, it was an hour he would make do with. Whenever Ryden set his mind to something he carried through with it until the end. Lifting up the grate that covered the entrance to Kerning's Sewers, and hence, the Swamp of Despair, Ryden recoiled back at the scent of months of accumulated shit, piss and other bodily excrements. Wincing, he quickly lifted his helmet over his head and lowered it down onto his suit's neck seal, sealing the suit and preventing any more of the noxious smells of the sewers from reaching his nostrils.
Geez… and I thought 'in the shit' was a figure of speech. Ryden thought disgustedly to himself as he lowered himself through the manhole, dropping down into the sewer tunnels with a resounding splash that echoed throughout. Sewer water rippled around his feet, coupled with the disintegrating remains of toilet paper and faeces. The occasional Tiberium crystal stuck out of the tunnel walls every now and then, but Kerning's Sonic Emitter array, projecting outwards sonic waves tuned to a frequency that was found to be able to break down Tiberium, kept the crystal infestation more or less at bay, preventing the entire city from becoming infected.
Tapping into his Draconic Speed like never before, Ryden sped through the sewer tunnel network like a bullet, covering miles of distance within the mere span of five minutes. In a short while, the exit of the tunnel network came into sight, and Ryden swiftly vaulted through the portal, coming out of the other side into what used to be the Swamp of Despair.
Anybody who had visited the former home of the Jr. Neckis and the Ligators before the war would not have recognized it at all now. Tiberium crystals practically carpeted the ground, and the trees of the Swamp of Despair had been transformed into Tiberium-infected "Blossom Trees", humongous plants with numerous tumors growing all over the bark that periodically writhed and pulsed, spurting out a spray of Tiberium spores into the air that would seed new Tiberium fields. Monster corpses littered the ground,the most commonly seen being the carcasses of Jr. Neckis, with the rarer corpse of the Ligator dotting the field of crystallized bodies every now and then. Many of them had expressions of agonized fury, having died fighting an enemy that they would not see, hear or smell. As inhuman as the monsters were, Ryden could not help but feel some measure of pity for them, for they had perished without understanding what had killed them.
The crusader streaked through the devastated swamp in a silver blur, moving faster than he had ever before. Large silhouettes of gigantic, lumbering creatures with Tiberium crystals jutting out their sides and backs shot past his vision, as did smaller, more lithe silhouettes of canine-shaped beasts. Tiberium-based life forms, no doubt, but GDI scientists had neither the opportunities nor the interest to study and document those. Red Zones being as dangerous as they were, it was viewed as a general waste of resources and manpower.
It was only a matter of seconds before Ryden had sprinted across the entire stretch of the swamp, and he dashed through the stone arch that designated the entrance to the forest of Sleepywood. The second he set foot into the forest's territory, his dragon senses screamed out subliminal warnings at him, and the crusader immediately spun on his heel and raised the Force Edge in a blocking posture above his face. A large body collided against him, canine jaws locking against the blade of his father's sword, and he skidded backwards for several meters before he managed to dig his heels solidly into the soil beneath him, halting his skid.
Finally having a moment to compose himself, Ryden looked past the Force Edge's blade and noted that his assailant was one of the smaller, canine-shaped silhouettes he had seen earlier. One of the more common Tiberium-based life forms, and one of the few that GDI had actually documented and researched into, the creature that had its jaws locked around the Force Edge was known to GDI as the 'Tiberium Fiend'. Appearing to be a horrifically mutated Curse Eye, the lizard's reptilian body shape had been warped and twisted by Tiberium, transforming it into a lither, more muscular physique that resembled that of a Hector's, if said Hector had been on a mass overdose of steroids. The oversized reptile had also developed a second eye, granting it better 'hunter's vision' and generally allowing it to see better. Tiberium crystals stuck out its back, and those had been the doom of many GDI expeditionary forces that had wandered too deep into the Red Zones. The Tiberium Fiend was renowned for its ability to propel shards of the crystal from its back at phenomenal speeds, and anybody caught in the stream of shards was pretty much doomed to an agonized death by Tiberium poisoning, if the shards didn't kill them outright. The Tiberium Fiend also possessed prodigious strength and speed, able to take out an entire platoon of Zone Troopers by itself, but they still paled in comparison to Ryden's capabilities.
With a single shove, Ryden pushed the Fiend away from him, sending the mutant flying through the air. The canine reptile experienced a brief flight before making contact with the ground, but it did not suffer a bad landing, twisting around in mid-air before landing gracefully on all fours. Snarling, the creature roared at him briefly before arching its back towards him and sending several shards hurtling straight at the crusader.
In a flash, Ryden had the Force Edge sheathed, bringing out Ebony & Ivory and shooting every single shard heading for him out of the air. With inhuman precision, the Ilbis streaked through the air, knocking each and every shard out of its course and even shattering some of them.
"Any other day I'd be spoiling for a fight with you. But I'm in a rush now so I don't have time for this." Ryden growled as he holstered Ivory and began to channel mana into his right hand, a small globe of golden energy forming in the space above his palm. It wasn't as hard as it was to create the Kamehameha wave that he had used against Melchiah before, but it still took considerable effort to harness and control the mana. Still, he prevented the strain from showing on his face, and he faced his opponent with a ruthless expression that could have been carved from stone.
"You've got three seconds to get out of my way." The fiend roared in a defiant response, and it lunged at Ryden again without the slightest indication of intimidation.
"All right then. You asked for it!" Before the fiend was even halfway towards him, Ryden hurled the globe of energy at the monster and dove out of the way. The Tiberium Fiend was on a practical collision course with the energy projectile, and it could do nothing to dodge as it slammed straight into its side, exploding in a brief flash of fire and a cloud of smoke. The fiend was hurled backwards as Ryden quickly rolled back onto his feet, the bulky Zone Trooper armor posing little obstruction to his mobility.
The canine reptile crashed into the Tiberium-carpeted ground, breaking several of the crystals and sending shards of them flying, but it nimbly leapt back onto its feet, snarling threateningly at Ryden and sending more shards hurtling his way. Ryden contemptuously shot those out of the air with Ebony alone, and he promptly holstered his second claw, dropping into a crouch and placing his hands behind him in a charging posture.
He sure as hell didn't have time for petty conflicts like this. If the fiend was determined to block his way, then he would have to remove it as quickly as possible. Channeling the mana in the same way that he had used to defeat Melchiah, albeit at a much lower power level, Ryden quickly formed a ball of energy in his hands before thrusting it forward, shouting "Kamehameha!"
The beam, similar to but much thinner than the one that had nearly killed the Necropolis council member, shot forth from his palms, slamming straight into the fiend and sending it flying. Wailing in pain and outrage, the monster struggled spastically as it crashed into the ground once more, the wounds it had sustained being more than it could tolerate. Glowing green ichor bled out of the open wounds that Ryden's beam had caused. As the crusader watched, the fiend's body slowly dissolved into its base components, most of which was liquefied Tiberium, and the green ichor seeped into the ground as the monster's corpse slowly melted.
Without breaking stride, Ryden leapt over the rapidly disintegrating carcass, sprinting through the mutated forest of Sleepywood. Blossom trees surrounded him on all sides, with the occasional Tiberium fissure, saturated with incredibly high concentrations of the toxic crystal, breaking through the ground to form the center of a Tiberium field. Ryden took care to avoid those – entering a Tiberium field would only further cut down the remaining protection time that his Zone suit had.
Three minutes was all it took for him to reach the hollow stump that marked the entrance to the Ant Tunnels. The town itself of Sleepywood was unrecognizable; the large tree-sauna in what used to be the forest town had been twisted and transformed into a gigantic blossom tree ridden with countless Tiberium tumors that periodically contracted and relaxed, spurting out Tiberium spores in veritable clouds. Knowing that if he came into contact with the Tiberium spore clouds, his Zone suit would be instantly compromised, Ryden quickly dashed past the blossom tree, slipping through the hollow stump entrance and into the Ant Tunnels.
The dungeon area had fared little better than the forest town outside. Tiberium growths covered the walls, the ground and even the tunnel ceilings. With every step that Ryden took, he could nothing but green, green and more green. Speeding through the tunnels, the crusader ventured deeper and deeper into the dungeon, far deeper than anybody had ventured before ever since the entire tunnel network had been closed off. The common shade of emerald green of the Tiberium soon gave way to the rarer, more volatile blue crystals of a higher-grade of Tiberium as Ryden entered the area that had once been classified as 'The Tunnel that had Lost Light', home to the Cold Eyes. Tiberium fiends darted past his vision every now and then, some of them growing the blue Tiberium crystals out of their backs instead of the regular green crystals, but the crusader ignored those.
Sneaking a glance at his Zone suit's protection meter, Ryden noted that he had only forty-five minutes of protection left. Apparently he had ventured through a spore cloud or two, burning away the protective layers of the Zone suit more rapidly. Taking a look at his mission clock, the crusader then realized with chagrin that he had only three minutes left to get to the Cursed Shrine. He was moving too slowly.
Intensifying the mana flow through his legs, Ryden further increased the velocity at which he was sprinting, stepping up the effect of his Draconic speed. Moving so quickly that the Tiberium fiends he streaked past could not even attack him, the crusader sped through the remaining distance between him and the Cursed Shrine. Within two minutes he arrived at the huge double-doors that marked the entrance to the home of the Jr. Balrogs, panting heavily as he sought to catch his breath.
This had better be worth the effort. Ryden thought himself as he halted the mana flow through his legs and ceased tapping into his draconic speed. Stella, I hope you're still alive in there.
Pushing open the doors to the shrine, Ryden's jaw dropped in amazement as he saw that the entire chamber was devoid of Tiberium infestation. How this was possible when the entire tunnel network outside was completely plagued by the crystal?
Stepping inside and letting the doors shut behind him, Ryden removed his Zone Suit's helmet and took in a breath of the shrine's stale underground air. Still, it beat the metallic quality of the recycled air that came out of his suit's air scrubbers. Taking off the rest of the protective suit, he stashed it away in a discreet corner near the entrance, knowing that he would need it to get out of there later.
Dashing further into the cursed shrine, he leapt off the ledge that led to its lower levels, rapidly landing at the bottom level with a loud thud. Before he could take a step however, the entire chamber turned a hellish red, and crimson runes appeared on the walls and ceilings all around him.
"Whoa." Ryden muttered to himself, surprised at this turn of events. He surely hadn't expected this when he came here. The crimson runes radiated infernal, unholy power at levels so high that they nearly staggered the crusader. Ryden had sensed this kind of power radiating from Balrogs before, but never in such high concentrations before. If there were any Balrogs in this chamber, they would have to be in numbers greater than any single man had faced before.
A prone figure surrounded by the same blood red runes on the far side of the chamber caught his sight, and his breath hitched in his throat a he recognized the white robes of a priestess.
The prone figure raised its head up, and the cold fist in Ryden's gut tightened as he saw Astella's face. It didn't help matters when the downed priestess raised a hand towards the crusader in a plea for help.
"Ryden, help me!" Astella cried out piteously.
Damnit! "Astella!" Ryden began to rush forward, but before he was even halfway there, a thin, translucent cerulean film materialized in the air between them. Ryden nearly collided straight into the film, the barrier proving to be as resilient as a meter-thick slab of adamantium, so Ryden quickly abandoned his subsequent attempts to break through.
Well that's just great. What now? Ryden thought exasperatedly to himself as he heard an ungodly roar of bloodlust from behind him, the runes on the walls around him intensifying their hellishly red glow as the entire chamber shook ominously. Turning around, the crusader visibly paled as he saw five Crimson Balrogs emerge from the dark corners of the chamber. Sure he could hold his own against a horde of Tauros, but a horde of those demons were nothing compared to the Crimson Balrogs. The archdemons that he faced now were the pinnacle of the infernal powers that Necropolis possessed within the ranks of monsters they controlled. A single Crimson Balrog was easily a match for FIVE GDI commandoes, and as skilled as Ryden was, easily being able to defeat his fellow elite soldiers in a three-to-one match, he doubted he could fight five Balrogs simultaneously without placing himself at significant risk.
A single glance to his rear, at the prone figure that lay on the ground behind him, was enough to steel his resolve. If five Balrogs were what he had to face, it would be five Balrogs that he would defeat. "Stella, stay back! I'll handle this."
The translucent film intensified until it was totally opaque, blocking off the priestess from his sight, but Ryden was thankful for that. At least he would be able to focus fully on the fight. Dropping into a ready stance and summoning Ifrit and Shiva, the crusader extended a hand towards the archdemons before him and beckoned for them to attack.
"Well, what are you idiots waiting for? Show me what you got!"
The lead Balrog snarled at the crusader's insolence, and promptly charged, brandishing its claws with black lightning crackling between its fingertips. Ryden immediately took to the air as the Balrog took a swipe at him, the crusader sailing harmlessly over the attack, dealing a crescent kick to the Balrog's cranium as he passed overhead.
The Balrog toppled forward, exposing its broad, furred back to Ryden, and presented with such an inviting target, the crusader couldn't help but pull out Spiral and load in a mythril bolt, aiming and pulling the trigger in a flash.
The bolt streaked forth, hammering into the archdemon's broad back, but the Balrog's girth was so massive that the arrow could not penetrate through fully, instead carrying the Balrog along with itself until it drilled into the wall at the opposite end of the chamber, pinning the archdemon there.
The remaining four Balrogs roared at this transgression, and two of them lunged forward, slashing wildly with their claws while the rest began to hurl fireballs composed of ebony flame at him. Still in mid-air, Ryden channeled mana into the air beneath his feet, solidifying it and allowing him to leap upwards again in mid-fall in an Air Hike maneuver. The crusader shot upwards through the air again, and the Balrogs' attacks cleanly missed, the fireballs impacting harmlessly against the far side of the chamber.
Ryden landed gracefully on his feet, dodging out of the way of the Balrogs' next few swipes as they attempted to seize him with their claws. Backflipping away from the archdemons, the crusader hefted his Deathbringer over his shoulder and smoothly sheathed it in his back holster, raising both his hands in front of him and performing a series of rapid arm movements before thrusting both of his hands forward with his palms facing the foremost Balrog, his thumbs and index fingers touching together to form a diamond shape.
Zer thinks Kamehameha is a dumb name – well, let's see him try this one. Ryden smirked cockily to himself before focusing mana into his hands. The power buildup for this particular arte was pretty much instantaneous – no brightly glowing ball of energy to give blatant indication that he was charging up for an attack. The Balrogs cocked their heads quizzically at his actions – they had never seen a warrior attempt a magician's type of arte before. They began to snicker gutturally at the crusader's supposedly futile attempts, but their laughter promptly ceased as Ryden suddenly shouted, "Burning Attack!"
A small, flaming sphere of golden energy abruptly materialized and shot forth from his interlocked hands, speeding straight towards the gathered archdemons like a bullet. The foremost Balrog, seeing the projectile headed straight toward it, snarled at the sudden assault and leapt upwards into the air, narrowly avoiding the sphere of mana. Enraged at this treachery, the distracted Balrog did not see its doom coming until it heard a savage cry from directly above. Disbelief delayed its reaction by a full second, and by the time it managed to look upward, the first thing that greeted it was Alastor's blade, an enraged crusader backing it up.
Ryden performed the slash so quickly that the Crimson Balrog didn't even have time register that it had been hit. A moment passed, and then the two severed halves of the Balrog separated itself in mid-air, the cut so fine that blood did not even flow from the wounds.
The next instant passed in a flash where Ryden proceeded to chop up the rest of the Balrog into bloody ribbons, ending up with demon sushi floating in front of him by the time he was done. As the rest of the archdemons watched in horror, Ryden raised a single hand in front of him, under his upraised sword arm, and released an indiscriminate spray of pure mana, vaporizing the torn up remains of the Crimson Balrog.
The crusader exhaled as he lowered his arm and twirled Alastor stylishly, smoothly sliding his Deathbringer into its sheathe over his shoulder. One down, four to go.
The crusader hadn't forgotten about the Balrog that he had pinned to the wall with that mythril bolt from Spiral. While he had been slicing and dicing up the first Balrog, the pinned archdemon had thrashed wildly around in a desperate attempt to free itself from the restraining bolt that had remained stubbornly embedded in its back. With a determined roar, it flexed its formidable muscles and braced its feet, slowly pulling itself out and dragging itself past the spike. Dark blood ran freely from the wound just below its heart, but such an injury was only a minor hindrance to a being of such constitution as a Balrog.
As shocked at the ease the crusader had neutralized one of their number as the Balrogs were, the wounded archdemon was the first one to charge at Ryden, eager for revenge. Still recovering from his Burning Slash attack, Ryden could do little to avoid to barrage of slashes from the Balrog's claws, infernal magic augmenting the damage dealt by the archdemon and leaving several flaming gouges in the crusader's armor. Having limited space for protective wear underneath the Zone Suit that he had worn here, Ryden could only take a small ballistic vest and some protective pads, and they did little to protect him from the savage slashes from the Balrog. The blows threw him backwards several feet, blood running freely from the slash wounds the archdemon had left on his skin.
The crusader's regeneration rapidly healed the injuries, but Ryden's stamina was going to drain to virtually nothing very quickly if he took many more hits like that. The moment the attacking Balrog raised its claws again to deliver another punishing blow, Ryden raised his forearms in a blocking position, preparing to guard against the attacks that were sure to come. The moment the archdemon's claws descended, Ryden subtly shifted his position, and parried aside the blow without the slightest indication that it had fazed him at all. The same went for the rest of the Balrog's strikes, harmlessly deflected aside by minute shifts in Ryden's positioning and stances. Magical, physical, or otherwise, nothing that the wounded Balrog threw at the crusader could touch him, courtesy of the Royal Blocks that Ryden had painstakingly practiced for years to perfect.
Infuriated beyond belief, the Balrog jumped backwards and reared both arms backwards, charging up a ball of infernal flames between its hands and holding it high above its head. With an unholy roar, it began to hurl the fireball forward, but before it could even leave the Balrog's hands, Ryden lunged forward, thrusting one of his hands in front of him.
"Royal Release!" Ryden shouted, releasing all the pent up energy and power that he had gathered and absorbed from the blocked attacks. The techniques involved absorbing the enemy's energy and reflecting it back at them, an integral part of the Royal Guard style of fighting that the crusader had developed, were extremely tricky and difficult to master, but Ryden hadn't spent the better part of three years slacking off in his office in Kerning. Learning the four combined skill books of Warriors, Bowmen, Magician and Thieves and molding them into his own fighting techniques, Ryden had developed his own styles for combat, four distinct styles that he switched between at will; Swordmaster, Gunslinger, Trickster and Royal Guard.
Right now the Royal Guard style, one that Ryden hardly bothered to use because of the sheer difficulty of utilizing it effectively, was definitely proving its worth. The single Royal Release was packing enough power to propel the crusader forward several feet, and it carried him straight through the wounded Balrog, the heavy blow tearing apart the wound in its chest and shattering every single one of its ribs. The fireball dying in its hands, the archdemon toppled over as Ryden streaked past it, and it landed on the ground with a heavy grunt of pain. Twitching spastically in its death throes, the Crimson Balrog could only feebly raise a hand in the crusader's direction; small sparks of black lightning flickering weakly between its claws before dying out. The archdemon's hand then collapsed to the ground, unmoving.
Two down, three to go.
Ever since the discovery of the powers provided by his Saiyan lineage, Ryden had found that dealing with enemies had become several magnitudes easier. This fight was definitely easier than he had expected – he had thought it would take him minutes to take down the first Balrog, let alone neutralizing the second so soon after that, and without the Burning Attack technique he had improvised, he was sure it most certainly would have.
Enraged growls from behind snared his attention, and he turned his focus to the three remaining Balrogs that still stood defiantly against him. The trio of archdemons was eyeing him warily, and the hatred and rage was plainly visible in their eyes. If Ryden had been just any other GDI commando, he would have definitely feared for his life right then. But he wasn't just any other soldier; he was the champion of the Dead Six, GDI's mightiest warrior, and the son of the legendary crusader. An absolute refusal to be cowed was one of his trademark traits – nothing could intimidate him or make him bow down.
Solidly planting one of his feet behind him, he dropped into a charging stance, placing both hands behind him and forming a ball of energy between them.
"You want me? Then here's a piece of my mind for you! KAMEHAMEHA!"
From beyond the veil, Turel observed the ongoing fight through the eyepiece of his scouter, Astella standing next to him and watching the battle with an expression that could have been carved from stone. When the warlock looked beneath the surface however, Turel could sense that the priestess was undergoing considerable inner turmoil – whatever remained of her old feelings for the crusader was interfering with the cold-blooded ruthlessness that she would need to complete this task. Turel raised an eyebrow in concern; if his accomplice was going to falter here, the entire scheme could be placed in jeopardy. Perhaps she would require a little persuasion later…
Returning his attention back to the fight, Turel glanced at the readings of his scouter, noting with astonishment the figures that were being displayed.
The scouter was an ingenious invention by Necropolis' Experimental Research Department; a semi-transparent colored monocle that covered his left eye, with its miniature CPU attached to his ear. Scouters were devices that calculated the power levels of individuals that they were targeted at, but the numbers were all relative – without a reference point, the numbers displayed by a scouter were meaningless.
Turel himself had a power level of over 18,000, a rather low power level for someone of his ranking. Astella, despite being much lower-ranked than him, held an impressive (for her ranking) power level of 4,000. However the Crimson Balrogs that he commanded here only had power levels of 1,000 each, and though they had the advantage of numbers, the son of Dracon was still defeating them without much difficulty.
Observing the crusader at first, Turel had been mildly surprised when the son of Dracon's base power level of 5,000 had suddenly spiked up to 8,000 and maintained its position there when the Balrogs attacked, rising upwards further in brief, sporadic surges before dropping back to the previous reading. The crusader's peculiar energy attacks seemed to be the main cause of these spikes, because the readings of Turel's scouter jumped drastically every time Ryden unleashed a stream of energy from his bare hands.
Just how is he doing that? Turel wondered to himself as he watched Ryden slice the first Balrog to pieces in mid-air before vaporizing it with a spray of energy, causing another spike in his scouter's readings. I have read records of an ancient race that was rumored to have been able to control mana with their bare hands, but they were said to have been extinct. Could he possibly be a descendant of that race?
Turel's question was almost definitively answered as he watched the son of Dracon plant one of his feet behind him, charging up power for a very obviously powerful attack. A sphere of blue-white energy materialized in the space between his hands, and Turel almost got the shock of his life as Ryden's power level shot up to as high as 16,000 for an instant, before the crusader unleashed the beam and blew one of the Balrogs off its feet, sending it careening straight into the chamber wall and causing the crusader's power reading to drop back to its base level of 8,000.
As the battered body of the third Balrog toppled to the ground, Turel found himself for the first time doubting the solidity of his scheme. The son of Dracon had proven to be far stronger than he had anticipated – surely the boy couldn't possibly be of Saiyan bloodline? If he was, then a revision of his strategy was most certainly due.
Continuing his watch as a blazing blue-white aura burst to life around the crusader, once again causing the power readings to spike, Turel struggled to prevent his jaw from dropping as Ryden blasted forward at a blinding speed before slamming his fist into the gut of one of the Balrogs, nearly folding it in half and causing dark blood to explode out of the archdemon's mouth. As the winded Balrog struggled to recover, the crusader turned upon the uninjured one, releasing a lightning-fast barrage of punches and kicks, battering the Balrog left and right with his flaming gauntlets and frozen greaves before leaping upwards and summoning his Deathbringer, slashing downwards with all his might. The Balrog, stunned and badly injured as it was by the blows it had endured, barely managed to catch Alastor's blade in between its claws, stopping the blow cold just before it would have ended its life. Ryden grunted in frustration and began to pull the blade away, only to realize with chagrin as a meaty ham fist smashed into his side and sent him flying through the air, that he had given the other Balrog too much time to recover.
As though in payback for the deaths of their fellow Balrogs, the two surviving archdemons cast their claws forward and expelled black lightning towards the airborne crusader, halting his flight and coursing infernal magic through his body. Ryden stubbornly refused to cry out even though agony assaulted his sense from all directions, and as the Balrogs halted their spells and let the crusader finally crash to the ground with his body smoking, Ryden exhaled in relief as the torment finally stopped.
He lay there motionless for a full second before abruptly jumping back onto his feet, ripping off the smoking remains of his ballistic vest and revealing the numerous burns that the Balrogs' lightning had left on his body. As the Balrogs watched, the burns slowly disappeared, replaced by raw, recently healed flesh, and the crusader smirked cockily, extending a hand and beckoning for them to attack once more.
The Balrogs however, did not react as he expected – instead of snarling in infuriation and preparing to attack again, they merely snickered evilly and pointed behind him. Ryden experienced only a moment of confusion before it struck him – the third Balrog that he had blown away with a Kamehameha must have recovered.
He didn't even bother to turn around – his dragon sense was screaming warning signals at him to look out from behind, and he immediately backflipped high into the air, narrowly avoiding a killing slash from the Balrog's claws. Ebony flames were wrapped around the archdemon's talons, and they brushed against Ryden's back as he avoided touching the claws by a whisker. But instead of feeling heat, there was only a terrible, ice-cold chill, so bitterly cold that Ryden's back instantly went numb the moment they licked against his flesh. His muscles locking up involuntarily, Ryden was rendered vulnerable for an instant, and the Balrog behind him made good use of it. Three slashes shredded whatever little armor he had left, and a savage uppercut sent him flying straight into the chamber wall, where a sickening crack form his back made Turel wince from behind the veil.
Ryden lay there limp for a full, agonizing second, and Turel began to furrow his eyebrows in puzzlement. He hadn't expected that to happen so quickly, or easily for that matter…
Then, in a flash, the son of Dracon was back on his feet, blasting forward with the blue-white aura flaring to life around him again. Turel's scouter registered yet another spike in the crusader's power level, and the warlock concluded that the surges in power must have been from the crusader manipulating incredible amounts of mana before discharging it in a single attack. Still, the amounts of mana required to actually cause an increase in power level were incredibly high – definitely beyond the power of a mere crusader such as himself.
As Turel watched Ryden lunge forward, with his Deathbringer surrounded by lightning and coupled with the same aura that raged around his body, he literally stepped back in shock as the charged blow decapitated the Balrog that had attacked the crusader from behind in a single strike. Before the archdemon's body could even begin toppling to the floor, Ryden leapt atop the corpse, planted both feet solidly on the Balrog's barrel-chested midsection, and kicked off with such strength that he sent himself flying straight towards the last two Balrogs that were still standing.
The two remaining archdemons snarled and prepared to defend themselves, but Ryden merely streaked between them without even showing any sign of attacking, passing through with only a flash of steel. Grunting in puzzlement, the duo turned to watch the crusader stand up from behind them, but the only thing they saw was Ryden reverting Alastor back to its katana form, slowly sliding it back into its sheath.
Growling, the Balrog on the left began to step forward, but Ryden firmly pushed his Deathbringer the rest of the way into its scabbard with a solid schnick, and before the Balrog's foot had even touched the ground, the archdemon fell apart into several bloody pieces.
As Turel watched Ryden began to advance upon the last Balrog, he turned to Astella next to him and gestured for her to step in. Again he began to delve beneath the surface, and even though the priestess betrayed no emotion on the outside, the warlock could see that the turmoil in her mind now was more pronounced than ever.
This was the moment that would either make or break them. If she succeeded in putting down the son of Dracon ruthlessly here, their success was assured, and he wouldn't have to worry about her getting cold feet anymore. But if she hesitated, not only would his entire scheme be put in danger, but also it would be considerably harder to obtain the amulet and the Force Edge again if he managed to escape here.
The warlock's mind was eased momentarily as Astella took a step forward, her eyes hardening, and Turel decided that a little persuasion was in order. Giving the priestess a slight mental nudge, assurance that all would go according to plan, he watched as Astella quickened her pace slightly, drawing out the Yamato and channeling a substantial amount of mana into it, causing it to glow an intense white.
Hurry, Iallis. Turel thought to himself as he watched Ryden stride closer and closer to the last Balrog. Time is running out. The veil will fall the moment he slays that last demon.
The final Balrog snarled in defiance and lunged forward at the crusader, claws slashing. Ryden merely stood his ground, and just as the archdemon was inches from striking him, he solidly planted both his feet into the ground and gave a mighty shout of "Spirit Shot!" Energy exploded outward from his body in an almost invisible shockwave, and the Balrog was thrown backwards, skidding backwards several feet before grinding to a halt. Still alive but badly beaten, the Balrog struggled back onto its feet, only to see the crusader holding his right hand high above his head, palm pointed straight at the ceiling.
"You morons never learn." Ryden spoke, conducting his mana into the shape of a spinning, golden disk of energy above his hand. "Thousands of your kind have tried to kill me and have failed. Only a fool performs the same procedure twice and expects a different outcome the next time. Now, it's time for you to die."
Ryden reared his hand back and prepared to throw the disk, but he never got the chance to. Just as he was about to shout "Destructo Disk!", a barrage of divine energy bolts streaked towards him from beyond the veil, exploding on his back and sending him to his knees, the disk above his palm spiraling out of control and streaking waywardly all over the chamber, exploding on the far wall in a flash of fire.
Through the haze of pain and surprise, the first thought that crossed the crusader's mind was What the hell just happened!? Third-degree burns covered his back, and though his regeneration quickly fixed the damage, the pain lingered and fuzzed out his perception of his surroundings. Struggling to turn around and see what had struck him, Ryden's blood went cold when he saw the veil turning transparent, until he saw Astella standing there with the Yamato pointed at him, her face betraying no emotion, even though her eyes told a totally different story.
Ryden had seen pure evil in eyes before – battles with Necropolis' council members made him more than familiar with that. But he had never thought he would see such a thing outside of the council, much less from a person such as Astella. The crusader struggled to get to his feet, but the sheer damage Astella had inflicted upon him had drained his stamina to the point that he could barely keep on his feet, and he teetered slightly as he shakily stood up.
"You fool!" Astella exclaimed as Ryden got to his feet. "You're too easy!"
"Stella… you!?" Ryden just couldn't summon the words. Outrage and shock at this betrayal constricted his throat until he could barely speak, and a hot fountain of anger began to bubble up from deep within his chest. Subconsciously clenching his fist so tightly his nails drew blood from his palm, a white-hot glow began to surround his hand, but he did not notice.
The priestess merely huffed, and continued, "You should have known better than to trust someone from the opposition, Ryden. I thought you were smarter than that. Now, you have something I want, and to get it, I'm unfortunately going to have to kill you."
Her eyes softened for a split second, and Ryden could have sworn that he saw sorrow behind those green irises before they hardened once more, and as he followed her gaze, he saw that she was focusing on the Force Edge. "I'm sorry that it has to come to this, but it's the way it has to be. Goodbye, Ryden Dracon."
Astella began to rear Yamato back, in preparation to deliver a killing slash, and time suddenly slowed for Ryden. As he watched the katana's blade slowly raise itself through the air, he began to recall.
He had spent days forging that weapon as a gift for her, crafting it in the image of his own Deathbringer's katana form, and had even gone as far as imbuing a small part of his power within it. Having given it to her a year ago, he had expected her to put it to good use as a means of protecting herself, but never would he have imagined that it would be used against him. As he watched, the Yamato's silver glow intensified to the point that it was almost too bright to look directly at, and something inside him just snapped.
He refused to accept that he could be put down here, by a weapon that he had forged with his own hands, much less by the very same person whom he had trusted and had placed his faith in for the past few years. The hot bubble of anger in his chest erupted into a fountain of rage, and a fury-induced surge of strength flowed through his entire body.
"NOO!!" The word exploded out of the crusader's mouth like a curse, and all of a sudden spectral fire spread all over his right forearm, the same white-hot glow that surrounded his hand now consuming the rest of his limb. His arm's skin once more turned hard and scaled, nails transforming into talons and fingers into claws, and without warning, he thrust his transformed arm right behind him, towards the weakened Balrog lying behind him.
A spectral forearm, one that looked like a shadow projection of his transformed arm, shot outwards, and firmly set its grasp upon the Balrog's ankle. The archdemon roared in protest, but Ryden didn't care – acting completely on instinct, he retracted the spectral projection, and dragged the Balrog all the way back to him like a rag doll until he had the archdemon's ankle grasped within his real hand.
Then, with strength that he never knew he possessed, he began to swing the Balrog over his head, flinging it around like a limp scarecrow. Astella stepped back in surprise at this sudden surge in resistance, and launched several Shining Rays at the rampaging crusader in an attempt to put him down. But Ryden was swinging the Balrog around so quickly that nearly all of her projectiles impacted against the Balrog instead, with none of them managing to land a single hit. Before she could react, Ryden spun towards her and, with an enraged shout, tossed the archdemon straight towards her with all his might.
She only had time to utter a brief curse before the Balrog's massive bulk slammed straight into her, carrying her all the way across the chamber in a flash. The Balrog's corpse flattened itself against the chamber wall, sandwiching the priestess between the rock and its weighty bulk, and Ryden collapsed to his knees, his breath escaping his throat in short, shallow gasps, with the spectral forearm fading away.
Still high on the current of his rage, Ryden gave a final, anguished cry before he tore his eyes away from the sight of the Balrog's body and sprinted back to the chamber's entrance. As he blasted through the double-doors of the shrine, a golden-yellow aura blazed to life around him, his hair flared upwards in upright spikes, and if anybody had been watching they would have seen his hair turn a fine golden-yellow as well, with the irises of his eyes transforming into an intense green and his muscles bulging slightly.
And without the protection of his Zone Suit, he blazed through the Red Zone that was the Ant Tunnels and Sleepywood within a flash, erupting through the manhole entrance and back into Kerning City within a single minute. Any monster that had dared get in his way was instantly vaporized before he could even register the fact that he had unleashed an energy blast. And there, as he began to slowly trudge through the deserted streets of Kerning, panting from exhaustion, his aura died down around him, his hair settled down and returned to its normal color, his eyes reverted back to brown, and his fatigue finally caught up with him.
The adrenaline rush fading away, Ryden felt his limbs begin to grow leaden, and a massive wave of nausea suddenly hit him like a battering ram. Before he could find something to support himself with, the ground dropped out from beneath him, and he was falling into darkness…
At the cursed shrine, Turel slowly approached the flattened corpse of the Balrog, examining it with a practiced eye. He hadn't expected Astella to be neutralized that easily…
All of a sudden, the Balrog's corpse shifted, and it was abruptly sent flying to the other side of the chamber as Astella, from behind it, unleashed a massive shockwave. Turel merely sidestepped the corpse as it whizzed past him, and turned his gaze upon the priestess, who was panting for breath. The slightly unnerving thing though, was that her eyes had turned a deep crimson, and her hair was now a dark, flowing raven color, seeming to flow and sway in an invisible breeze – a result of the raging dark blue aura that blazed around her. As Turel watched, Astella slowly calmed down, and her eyes and hair returned to their original color, her aura fading away as well.
"I see that you're learned to tap into your inner demons. Rather contradictory, considering the fact that you're a priestess." Turel remarked as Astella slowly stepped forward, bending down only to pick up her fallen katana. The priestess walked past him without so much of a remark, but once a few paces away from him, she suddenly stopped.
"This is only the beginning." She said in a voice as cold as ice. "And I will obtain his sword, and that amulet."
Turel merely shrugged, and began to walk behind Astella as she stalked off. Though the first phase of the plan may have hit a bump, all was not lost – in time, they would have another opportunity to lure the son of Dracon out, and another chance to obtain the key to ultimate power.
Turning his thoughts away from that, Turel switched his focus to that of the priestess; or rather, her transformation. Having dismissed his remark so casually, Turel could only speculate as to what Astella had really done to take Necropolis' hacks one step further.
The warlock recognized the signs of somebody applying self-enhancing hacks upon themselves, but never as pronounced as what he had seen in the priestess. Normally, the only outward signs of performance enhancing hacks would be a subtle change in eye color, as well as perhaps a slight amplification of the intensity of the aura if the user were a magician. Other jobs had their own physical manifestation – a small increase in muscle mass for warriors, cat-like pupils for bowmen, and a slight phasing out of the body's tangibility for thieves. But the aura he had seen blazing around the priestess a mere moment ago was beyond anything he had seen her accomplish before – certainly not a standard, run-of-the-mill self-enhancing hack she had been using there. And her eyes…
Despite himself, Turel could not help but shudder. Those blood red irises looked like a demon's. Hacks offered individuals power beyond their wildest imaginations, and if they were willing to delve even further into them, power that could be taken even further beyond at the expense of their humanity.
But few individuals were mad enough to give themselves over to the darkness within just for another measure of power. Turel admitted that while he was part of that crowd, he was also smart enough not to let the darkness take over completely, thus affording him greater power than the average warlock while still retaining part of his humanity. But Astella…
Turel feared that the priestess may have delved too deep into her hacks, to the point that she may have sacrificed too much of her humanity in the process. If her power could skyrocket to a level that surpassed his, his entire scheme could all be for naught – everything he had planned would be jeopardized if she turned out to be more powerful than him.
Everything now hinged on whether he could keep a low profile, his true intentions hidden, until Astella had done all the dirty work for him. And then, once he had everything he needed, everything else would just fall into place.
The corners of his mouth curved upwards in an almost unnoticeable anticipatory grin, and he quietly began to laugh to himself.
The idiots had no idea what was coming…
The smell of burnt cinders slowly sifted into his nostrils, and Ryden instinctively flared his nostrils, grunting slightly. Not realizing, nor caring, about where he was or why he was on the floor, he simply rolled over onto his side for a moment before shifting back into his original position. The smell of cinders intensified, and Ryden grunted even louder. Why the hell couldn't those idiots leave him to rest peacefully?
He was about to raise a hand and wave away the offending smell when something even more offensive took its place – a rancid, putrid odor that burned its way right through his sinuses, flowing straight into his lungs.
A vein nearly popped in Ryden's forehead before he cried out in surprise and shot up from his prone position, choking and coughing, struggling to get the rotten stench out of his nose.
"I see you're finally awake." A familiar voice spoke from above him, causing him to briefly halt his efforts to expel the smell of ammonia from his nose. Looking up, he gazed upon a face that he thought he would never see again.
His mind immediately flashed back to that fateful day in Sleepywood, where he had met his first Esparda. Clad in black from head to toe, polished steel pauldrons, grieves and gauntlets shimmering in the dim light provided by a fire nearby, a cuirass shaped like a rib cage, and that pair of jet-black sunglasses…
"Smith?" Ryden whispered disbelievingly.
The Esparda merely nodded.
"I picked you up from the streets of Kerning. You were just lying in the middle of the road like a ton of bricks. Your body had suffered massive amounts of Tiberium poisoning, and somehow your body has also managed to withstand all of that radiation damage. I've removed all of the Tiberium particles in your body, so by now you should be fit enough to continue on with your duties."
Ryden's mind was whirling from the barrage of information that he barely noticed that he and Smith were alone in a small, dark apartment, with only a single window that allowed the evening's light to shine through, and a small fireplace in the corner with a tiny blaze providing light and heat. "Wait a minute. You saved me, again? And how did you manage to remove the Tiberium poisoning from my body? As far as I know, GDI scientists have had no luck in finding a cure for Tiberium poisoning! And what do you mean that my body had somehow withstood all of the radiation in the first place?"
Smith merely stood there, removed his sunglasses, and gave Ryden a familiar smirk.
"Firstly, I saved you merely because I was under orders by my superior, Longinus. I believe you've met him before. Secondly, removing the Tiberium from your body, for a being of such power as myself, is as simple as pressing 'right click' and 'delete'. And thirdly, I recognize fragments of data from the alpha version of the server that reside within you. You are of Saiyan bloodline, aren't you?"
Dimly registering the fact that Smith's answers only generated more questions, Ryden just sat there and nodded mutely, surprised that Smith would recognize the ancestral power within him that easily.
The shock was apparently showing obviously on his face, because Smith's smirk only widened.
"I am a member of Koaxia after all – how can you not expect me to know a Saiyan when I see one? Well, now that you are well, my job here is done. It is time for me to leave."
The Esparda replaced his sunglasses on his face and turned to leave with a swish of the black muffler he was wearing, but Ryden halted him with one last question.
"Wait, Smith. Why… are you here in the first place? Why wait until now before showing yourself?"
Smith turned back to face the crusader, and his eyes glinted from behind his ebony shades.
"I did tell you that you would live to regret your folly that day, and I would be there to see it happen. Well, you have lived to regret your folly, and I have seen it happen."
Seeing the realization dawn upon Ryden's face, Smith nodded. "Yes, that is right, son of Dracon. I was watching you the entire time, since you entered in the Cursed Shrine. You should have let me kill her that day, but you let your feelings for her then get in the way. Now, this is your mistake, so I leave the solution up to you. If you'll excuse me…"
Before Ryden could say another word, Smith took off in a dash, and made a running leap through the window, leaving only the curtains flapping in his wake, and a bewildered crusader with his mind reeling from the information he had just learned.
A/N: A week later…
Striding together through the streets of Kerning, the massive warrior and the smaller, more slender wizard were a stark contrast to one another, and yet somehow they also seemed completely in place with each other. A few passers-by gave them strange looks as they walked down the district that led to the Dragon's Redgrave, but none of them gave any verbal comments. The pair of humongous, wickedly curved daikatanas slung across the warrior's back was more than enough to give pause to any potential aggressor, and even the comparatively tiny wizard radiated a substantially powerful aura that would make any likely assailants think twice about considering her to be easy pickings.
As the large, bright-red neon sign of Ryden's mercenary agency finally came into sight, Denice Alenko turned to her older brother beside her, and gestured towards their destination.
"Here it is, brother." The wizard stated, pointing towards the double doors that had been busted down by her a mere week ago, now standing firmly back in their place in the doorway, as good as new. "You'll find that his skills are as vaunted as they claim. I would know – I experienced it first-hand."
The massive warrior standing next to her gave a grin, folding his arms. "You've done well, sister. It seems I was proven right in believing you were the right choice for this task."
Denice smiled back at her brother, bowing politely in recognition of his superior rank, despite their blood relation. "I merely followed orders, brother. I am glad that I could be of service."
The warrior's grin only widened further, and he placed a beefy arm around his younger sister's shoulders in a brotherly embrace.
"Come now, sister. Must you always be so formal towards me? I may be your superior in rank, but I am also your brother. Well, at least now, we know that the future of our people is secure. Now, how do you say we should enter the son of Dracon's office? Like you did last week?" Denice's brother suggested with a glint of cheekiness in his eyes and his grin.
Denice smiled embarrassedly – while giving her report to her brother last week on how she had decided to introduce herself to the son of the legendary crusader, the elder sibling had just simply burst into peals of laughter the moment she told him how she had made her entrance. Denice's elder brother knew all about her weakness for dramatic entrances, but the young wizard was too shy to ever dare try to make one when any of her comrades were watching. Now, her brother would have a field day teasing her endlessly about it.
"I think I'll pass on that, brother. Let's just walk through the door like normal customers…" Denice replied with a nervous laugh, walking towards the doors of the office and knocking twice.
Several seconds passed, but there was no response. Her brow furrowing in confusion, the wizard knocked twice again, but still there was no response.
"That 'motorcycle through the door' approach seems more feasible now." Her brother teased again, a mirthful grin forming on his face. Ignoring her brother's quip, Denice placed her hand on the door's knob and attempted to turn it – it refused to budge an inch.
"Locked." The wizard muttered in annoyance. "I think you'd better handle this, brother. And please, don't use that motorcycle!"
The warrior, with a playful laugh, set down the large, red motorcycle that he had been rearing over his shoulder and stepped forward, placing his own beefy hand over the doorknob. A few experimental twists showed that the knob was still as immobile as before, so he braced himself for a moment before making a powerful forward shove.
The entire door came off its hinges – the doorframe nearly came out with the door itself, as the warrior's massive bulk plowed right through with an enormous crashing sound. Denice could only stare at her brother's lack of subtlety; he could have just broken the lock and entered quietly, but no, he had to bring down the entire damned door.
Her brother dropped the knob that he was holding on to, and, by procession, the entire door that was attached to it, and turned around to face her, sniggering. "Sorry sister. I couldn't resist."
Denice slapped her forehead in irritation. Just great, now Ryden would think they were breaking and entering. Quickly stepping around her brother to view the inside of the office, she was more than shocked to find it empty – the desk, while as messy as before, had no feet propped up on it, and the swiveling chair behind the table was vacant. A quick glance to the left side of the office revealed that the Force Edge was missing from its pedestal, and his katana Deathbringer was nowhere to be seen.
"Looks like nobody's home." Her brother commented, coming up next to her and looking at the vacant desk. Denice shook her head, straining her ears to listen. The office appeared vacant, but she had heard some other sounds coming from behind the door leading to the back of the office.
It was extremely faint, but Denice recognized the sounds of swords being swung through the air when she heard them.
"No. He's here. I can hear it." The wizard purposefully strode towards the door leading to the back before her brother could say anything, and firmly pushed it open, only to be greeted by a sight that she had not expected at all.
The inner room was much more massive than she had anticipated; it was just about as large as the sparring area of a dojo, and looked just about the same too. And at the very centre of the sparring floor, Ryden, dressed in only a pair of white martial sweatpants, wielded his swords like all the demons of hell were attacking him.
Parry, stroke, whirl, slice, impale – his imaginary foes attacking him from all sides at once fell before him. He leapt up with blinding speed as a nonexistent sword sliced at his knees, lunged forward, turned, and blocked a fictitious attack with unerring accuracy. Tucking his sword, he ducked, rolled forward, and came up fighting. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead, dappled his upper lip, and slicked his chest. His heart thundered in his ears and despite his training, his breath was coming in little gasps. Rarely could he ever practice with such a level of focused intensity, and he craved the peace he knew would come after such exertion.
He finished the routine, twirled the dual swords expertly over his head, and sheathed them smoothly, Alastor returning to its katana scabbard on his waist while the Force Edge slid back into its sheathe on his back.
Denice could only stare at such a display of speed, power and finesse. If there had been even an entire regiment of Necropolis soldiers here in this room, they would have all been slaughtered by just a fraction of the routine that Ryden had just displayed. Her brother stood beside her, thoroughly impressed by the might of the legendary crusader's son.
Ryden strode towards the side of the room, pouring himself a refreshing draft of water into a cup from a jug on a nearby table, and was about to begin drinking when he noticed he had visitors.
"You're a bit early." Ryden commented nonchalantly before downing the cup of water in a single gulp. "You didn't come here by motorcycle, by any chance?" He continued with a smirk on his face.
"No, I didn't." Denice said quickly before hurriedly ushering her brother forward with an embarrassed look on her face. Wouldn't they ever stop teasing her about it? "Ryden, this is my brother. He's also the superior who sent me here last week. He'll talk to you more about what I told you last week."
Her brother began to step forth, but Ryden waved them off. "Not here in the dojo. Let's talk in my office. Just give me a minute."
Before either of them could say anything, Ryden brushed past them, flinging a towel over his shoulders and stepping through the door they had come in through. The duo quickly followed him through, but Denice's brother suddenly stopped in his tracks when he was halfway through the door, causing the magician to collide straight into his back.
Quietly cursing at the sudden impact, Denice peered around her brother's side, and paled when she saw that Ryden was standing next to his desk, his finger pointed at the ruined door with a questioning expression on his face.
Denice frantically mouthed the words Not Me, pointing at her brother's back. Ryden merely face-palmed, and walked to the side of the room, opening the door to the supposed shower rooms, and locking it behind him, not saying a word.
A short while later, Denice and her brother were seated in chairs in front of Ryden's desk, while the son of the legendary crusader sat behind it, leaning back in his own chair while propping up both booted feet on the table. Having changed from his sweatpants into a more appropriate set of clothes, his trademark black leather jacket over a black muscle T-shirt and jeans, he made for a very apathetic presence, especially with the posture he had adopted. Denice's brother raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if this uninterested, indifferent individual was really the only hope of salvation for their group of Necropolis Separatists.
Ryden coolly took a bite out of the slice of pizza he had in hand, and gave Denice's brother a good, long gaze, chewing thoughtfully on his mouthful of food. "So you're the leader of this group of Separatists, huh?"
The warrior nodded, extending his hand over the table. "Yes, I was elected the leader by our group, and I reluctantly but willingly took up the post. My name is Kaien Alenko, White Knight and formerly of Necropolis."
When Ryden didn't respond to his offer of a handshake and instead remained in his lounging position, still chewing on his pizza, Kaien brought his hand back to his side, visibly discomfited by the crusader's lack of hospitality. Clearing his throat in an attempt to clear the awkwardness, the warrior began to continue.
"I'll cut straight to the point. Our own former comrades are hunting us down. Our members are scattered all over Bera, but our numbers have steadily been dwindling. Necropolis Black Hand assassins have been slowly targeting us, killing us off one by one as they work their way up the command chain. There used to be over two hundred of us – now, less than fifty remain."
"Fifty?" Ryden commented, astonished. "Why didn't you guys try to find help earlier?"
"We did." Kaien replied, with regret showing on his face. "But apparently, nobody we approached wanted to be associated with former Necropolis members. We thought we would find a safe haven in GDI territory, but even then Necropolis still sends out the occasional party of assassins from their Black Hand regiment to hunt down and kill one of us. And since we're not official citizens, we're not under GDI protection. Necropolis is free to kill us as they please."
"And you didn't dare to ask us directly for help. You thought we wouldn't trust you, and we would rather kill you on sight." Ryden finished bluntly for him.
"Well… yes. That's pretty much it." Kaien replied, irked that Ryden had put the point across so brusquely. He could have at least been more polite about it…
"Well," Ryden remarked as he took his feet off the table and leaned forward, "You'd have proven right. At least, only if you'd gone to my superiors directly."
"So you're saying that you'll help us?" Denice blurted out, relief evident on her face. Ryden merely smirked, and leaned back in his chair, placing his booted feet back up on the table.
"No. Not yet, at any rate."
Kaien's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "So what exactly are you saying?"
Ryden merely kept his smirk on his face, and took a sip out of the glass of tequila that was on his table. "Prove to me that your people are worth helping."
Kaien breathed a sigh of relief, and closed his eyes. "I see. So that's all you need." The warrior reached into the pouch he had slung over his shoulders, and pulled out several files of documents, tossing them onto the table in front of Ryden.
"These are top-secret documents stolen directly from Necropolis' R&D archives, as well as from their cadre of lieutenants, from right under the guildmaster's nose. They carry details of many of Necropolis' many developments and plans. Many of our number used to be former members of their R&D department and personal assistants to officers, or were officers themselves, after all. I'm sure your intelligence division will be more than interested in taking a look at these."
Ryden took an off-handed but curious glance at the papers, and then he gave an apathetic grin and swept the folders off his table with a casual swing of one of his feet. "They can stare at that crap all they want, but that's not what I'm looking for."
Kaien's look of puzzlement intensified, as did his sister's. "Then what exactly do you want?" Denice blurted out impatiently. Did the crusader really intend to make things so hard on them?
Ryden's grin merely widened, until he was practically baring his teeth at them. "Make this interesting for me."
Kaien's eyes narrowed, and he returned Ryden's grin with his own humorless smile. "Hmph. Now I get it. Very well then. I must apologize that it had to come down to this."
Denice stared in her brother in shock and confusion, and she quickly got off her chair, stepping back in apprehension. "Brother, surely you do not…"
Before Denice could get any further however, Kaien reached both of his hands over his back, and brandished both of his daikatanas. "Flower wind rage and flower god roar, heavenly wind rage and heavenly demon sneer!"
Before Ryden's very eyes, the two Japanese swords began to glow an intense white, their very shapes morphing and shifting right in front of him. By the time the glow faded, a much larger, much sharper pair of oversized falchions had replaced the dual daikatanas. Kaien displayed his dual weapons proudly, as though he were presenting the pride and joy of his heart.
"Katen Kyokotsu!" The Knight proclaimed, stating the name of his pair of swords.
The crusader raised an eyebrow, but was stirred by the display nonetheless. "Impressive. I didn't think there were any other weapons in this world that were anything like Deathbringers."
"Our old guild's R&D department hasn't been idle for the past few months, you know. We managed to steal several of these before we escaped." Kaien answered. "They managed to create a form of weapon called a 'Zanpakuto', or 'Soul Slayer', one that closely mimics the nature of your own Deathbringer, though mostly at a lower level. After all, imitations rarely surpass the original, don't they?"
Ryden smiled, and closed his eyes, remembering the encounter between Longinus and Sindri that Astella had once related to him. "You're right there. Imitations rarely surpass the originals. But what about this one?"
Kaien's answer came in the form a blow, as the White Knight brought down one of the blades in a wide arc, slamming it straight down towards the seated crusader. Without even shifting from his seat, Ryden raised his left leg, and it was immediately encased in ice, Shiva instantly responding to the call of its master. The magical armor of frozen water stopped the blow cold, the blade of the falchion not even leaving a mark upon the greave, and Ryden parried it aside with a mere flex of his ankle.
Pressing the attack, Kaien reared the first falchion back while striking simultaneously with the second one. Again, Shiva came up to defend against the blow, Ryden remaining unmoving in his seat, not even looking up to defend against the strike. His poise was so calm and relaxed that he even kept his hands hidden in his pockets.
Internally, Kaien was beaming from ear to ear. Indeed, this man sitting before him, so effortlessly deflecting his attacks was their savior! But could he keep up under pressure? Kaien decided to put that to the test, and stepped up the pace of his attacks. Miniature wisps of wind began to swirl around his blades, and Katen Kyokotsu began to grow in speed, striking against Shiva harder and faster, until Ryden was eventually forced to actually look up to coordinate his defense.
"You're pretty good." Ryden commented off-handedly as he lashed out with Shiva to deflect another oncoming strike, sending it flying harmlessly wide. Kaien merely grinned back, and suddenly reversed his grip on both of his falchions, bringing them in an abrupt reverse strike that streaked right at Ryden's exposed face.
There was a brief flash of fire, and out of the blue the Zanpakuto was stopped inches from the crusader's neck by a flaming gauntlet. Ifrit had responded to its master's call as promptly as Shiva did, and Ryden only had to flex his wrist briefly to force the blades away.
Kaien stumbled back, bringing Katen Kyokotsu back into a ready stance, but Ryden beat him to the punch, literally. The crusader, sitting down in his chair several feet away from the knight, suddenly disappeared from sight and reappeared, standing right in front of Kaien and staring into his face, his brown eyes boring straight into the knight's cobalt blue ones.
Then Ryden delivered a sudden punch to the immobilized Knight, straight into his gut, so swiftly that Denice, who had been watching from the side, was almost completely unable to see it happen, much less follow it. Kaien exhaled explosively as the blow sank into his ribcage, and he crumpled to his knees as Ryden brought his fist back.
"But not good enough, apparently." Ryden finished coolly, blowing steam off of Ifrit.
Coughing and sputtering, Kaien certainly gave the impression that he had been beaten – Denice could see that Ryden had let his guard down. The crusader was now standing in a relaxed posture, with one hand on his side as he watched Kaien struggle on the floor. The knight suddenly tightened his grip on his Zanpakuto, and seemed to finally catch his breath.
"Huh… you're fast. I'll give you that." Kaien gasped out, grinning despite his pain. "I certainly didn't expect you to hit me that quickly."
"Seems a lot of people are underestimating me these days." Ryden responded with a smirk of his own. "I've heard that phrase a lot from your old council members."
"All the more proof that your might is as vaunted as they claim. If you're able to surpass their estimations time and time again." Kaien struggled to speak as he forced himself unsteadily back onto his feet.
Ryden chuckled, and gave a wistful look. "Not much claim there, actually. Their expectations of me weren't even very high in the first place."
"Is that so? Even then, I have successfully fended off several Black Hand assassination attempts myself. I know for sure that I'm a good fighter, but for you to fend me off this easily…" The knight stated, taking up a stance and raising Katen Kyokotsu once more. Ryden raised an eyebrow, and Kaien answered the crusader's unvoiced question.
"You wonder why I still fight while I have already been decisively beaten? The answer is simple – I want to see all of your power."
At this, Ryden allowed himself a smile, and he shook his head. "You don't get it, do you? I haven't even called out the First Release of my Deathbringer and I already had you on the floor. Ifrit and Shiva may pack more punch with individual strikes than Alastor, but Alastor is much faster and can hit harder over time. Those gauntlets and greaves are mere supplements, and I still managed to decisively beat you with just them. The power gap between us is that big."
Kaien's friendly expression disappeared, replaced by cold, hard determination. "Enough! Don't treat me like I'm some sort of weakling! You may be the best in the entirety of GDI's army, but that doesn't mean you can look down on all of your opponents! To refuse a fight is to sully your opponent's pride and honor!"
Ryden gave the knight a long stare, and nearly burst out laughing. "You hold on to those ideals, even when you're a former member of Necropolis? I take my hat off to you, friend!" The crusader's mirthful expression then disappeared, and turned completely serious. "Very well, then. I shall show you the First Release of my Deathbringer."
Satisfied, Kaien took up another ready stance, holding up his Zanpakuto and waiting for Ryden to make his move. The crusader dismissed his gauntlets and greaves, the fire and ice disappearing from his extremities, and he blurred backwards, suddenly appearing at the back end of the room.
Kaien grinned, and remarked, "Impressive. Reports from the field had indicated that you were capable of moving so fast until it seemed as though you were teleporting, but also limited to movement only towards an enemy. I see that you've managed to perfect that technique even further."
Ryden smirked back, replying, "Yeah. I used to rely on Air Trick to close the gap, but I realized how useful it would be if I could use that speed to retreat as well. The solution was this new technique – I call it Shunpo, or the Flash Step. Now, to demonstrate my First Release…" The crusader extended out his right arm, and with a brief flash of light, a katana with an ornate hilt abruptly materialized in his hand. Swiftly removing the sheath of the katana, the crusader then held it out to his side.
"Hark, Alastor." Ryden murmured, closing his eyes. Watching in awe, Kaien and Denice stood rooted to the floor as the katana began to glow and change its appearance, much like how Kaien's own daikatanas had morphed earlier into the falchions they were now. As the glow faded, Denice saw that the katana had transformed into a giant, steel greatsword that had a menacing dragon's head serving as its hilt. Two draconic wings formed a stylized guard, and visible arcs of electricity could be seen dancing around the blade.
"I know of that weapon." Kaien remarked with a grin. "Again, from several stories that I've heard from many of my old soldiers. They spoke of a raven-haired crusader, wielding a sword as tall as himself, brandishing lightning as his weapon as though he were a god of thunder."
The knight raised his left arm, pointing at Ryden's Deathbringer with the point of his falchion. "Alastor, the Black Thunder Blade!"
His eyes still closed, Ryden merely grinned. "No. It's just Alastor for now. I haven't achieved the Second Release yet, so I don't know what Alastor's title is. But whatever his title is, it sure as hell wouldn't be something as corny as 'The Black Thunder'."
Kaien smiled as well. "Perhaps. But corny title or not, it must surely possess much power, even without your bankai. And that, I would like to see a demonstration!"
Simultaneous with his last word, the knight lunged forward, thrusting with both falchions. Before he could begin to wonder what the hell a 'bankai´ was, Ryden quickly knocked aside both blades with a casual swing from Alastor, not even bothering to take up a proper stance, but even that slapdash swing packed enough force to send Kaien stumbling to the side, the parry so powerful that he was dragged along with his swords.
Before the knight could even move to recover, Ryden disappeared from sight again, and materialized right behind Kaien, Alastor's blade held millimeters from the knight's neck.
"You're too slow." Ryden remarked off-handedly, as though he were commenting on the weather. Kaien merely grunted an acknowledgement, and suddenly he twisted himself downwards and under, slipping right beneath Alastor's blade and inside Ryden's guard before the crusader could even move.
But as though he had planned for that to happen, Ryden moved simultaneous with Kaien's dip, leaping over the knight and completely bypassing the uppercut that the knight had attempted to make with his Zanpakuto. Cursing as he realized that his strike had missed, Kaien spun around to face the crusader again and bring Katen Kyokotsu to bear…
Only to come face to face with Alastor's blade again, held mere millimeters from his face once more. With a friendly grin, Ryden rotated his Deathbringer until the flat edge faced the knight's countenance, and he knocked Kaien lightly on the forehead with it.
The resulting current sent enough of a shock through the white knight's bones that he was knocked flat on his ass, his torso slamming onto the ground split second later. Ryden stared down at the prone knight, who could only twitch and gasp for air, then smirked and reverted Alastor back into its katana state, sheathing it smoothly before dismissing it.
"I hope that was enough of a demonstration, because you obviously just got your ass kicked by me." Ryden remarked casually as he strode back to his desk, hands in his pockets, and he resumed his indifferent posture of two boots up on the table. Denice quickly rushed over from the side and helped her brother to his feet, who was grinning from ear to ear despite the beating he had just received.
"Yeah, that was more than enough. So, will you help us?"
Ryden appeared to adopt a thoughtful expression, then he dug out a coin from his pocket, Denice recognizing it as the very same coin that he had used on the day they had met.
Before Kaien could say anything, Ryden flipped the coin once, and snatched it out of the air. He opened his palm, and grinned at the result.
"You and sister both are lucky. Yeah, I'll help you guys."
Kaien and his sister both sighed in relief simultaneously, and the knight strode forward, extending his hand towards the crusader. 'Then it is settled. I have your assurance that your superiors will arrange for protective custody?"
"More than that." Ryden replied. "I'll make sure you guys become full-fledged GDI members yourselves."
Denice was so grateful upon hearing that, that she found herself blinking back tears. Even Kaien was similarly affected, and though he displayed no visible changes in his thankful expression, the knight's voice nearly broke as he thanked the crusader for his effort. They would have settled for protective custody, but as full-fledged GDI members, nothing short of an actual skirmish could allow Necropolis to touch them. They were in the good guys' jurisdiction now.
Ryden grasped Kaien's outstretched hand firmly, and the pact was sealed.
The Necropolis Separatists were now a part of the Global Defense Initiative.
Several minutes after Kaien and Denice had left, Ryden had glanced inconsequently at a dark corner of his office, and remarked, "I know you've been eavesdropping on this entire conversation."
Stepping out of the shadowed corner, Zeraion Phoenix strode forward, unabashed at being caught. "They're former members of Necropolis, Ryden. I don't see your motive here. Why are you helping them so?"
"They have information we could use. Simple as that." Ryden replied indifferently, not meeting Zeraion's eyes as the ranger stared at him unwaveringly.
"That's what our superiors would say. I'm asking you, why are you choosing to help them? As far as I know, you couldn't care less how the rest of GDI progresses in the war, as long as you get to strike at Necropolis."
The crusader sighed, and finally turned to face Zeraion. "There are many questions that I have for Kaien himself. If he's an officer, which he most probably is, he'll know the inner workings of Necropolis. He'll know of their plans. And he'll know of details of council members."
"So your personal motive here is revenge. You want to get back at Raveshaw." Zeraion deduced.
Ryden flinched inwardly as the ranger uttered the name of his mother's murderer, and he turned his gaze away again. "Yeah. You could say that. Though there are a couple of other things as well."
Phoenix looked at his friend with an amused, questioning expression. "Like?"
Ryden contemplated telling Zeraion that he was actually wondering about the 'bankai' that Kaien had mentioned, then decided against it and opted to keep his mouth shut.
"No. It's nothing. Look Zer, it's been a long day, and Command hasn't called in for ages. Why don't you bugger off to HQ and check the mission logs instead of interrogating me here?"
Though a little miffed at the dismissal, Zeraion chalked it down to his friend's usual attitude, and he promptly left the office, departing for the Philadelphia. Sighing, Ryden leaned further back in his chair, his mind in turmoil.
He hadn't forgotten about the betrayal he had suffered a week before. The emotional pain and shock of being double-crossed like that had quickly worn off – Ryden wasn't one to let such things affect him for long. But the resentment… the want to do unto her as she had done unto him…
That was the reason why he had been training so hard. Astella and that accomplice of hers could strike again at any time. And when they did, Ryden would be ready.
When they did, Ryden would take their schemes, and crush them to dust with his own hands.
Nobody messed with the son of Dracon and got away with it.
Still, despite his hunger for revenge and his simmering anger towards the treacherous priestess, the crusader still felt quite disconcerted at the emotions stirring within him. By right, he should have been thinking of a way to salvage the situation, a way to convince Astella to abandon this dark path she had embarked upon. And instead of that, he was preparing to take revenge, to inflict upon her the same hurt that she had inflicted upon him.
Mind in turmoil indeed. Ryden ruffled his hair out of irritation, thoroughly frustrated at the conflicting emotions that raged inside of him. He hated being confused like this.
Mother… The crusader thought to himself as he absent-mindedly touched the dangling silver amulet that rested on his chest.
What should I do…?
A/N: You know the drill. I'm getting tired of placing these in the author's notes. Follow-up trailer to Sunset Horizons may be coming soon after this, but not the next full-fledged chapter for quite some time. More reviews may equal faster updates.