Five days left. Squall sat on the rooftop, his back to the humming air control unit that occupied the space, a smoke resting forgotten in his lips as he looked out at the city. He felt sick. His fingers kept ghosting over his chest where the still-fresh ink lay beneath his skin. There were a lot of things that felt like they were under his skin at the moment. The city, the people, the rich, Garden, the way of the world. His mind was slowly traveling over the last twenty years of his life. His relationship to power, his relationship to the people with it. He thought of Laguna Loire. He thought of Vinzer Deling. He thought of Grand Duke Ephreham. He thought of all the petty tyrants ruling their little districts in Galbadia, east and west, of the Guild Masters in Esthar. He thought of the tribals of Trabia and Centra. He thought of the mayor of Fisherman's Horizon. The paths to where they sat.
In order to become a leader in the tribal communities you were lifted up by the people. They chose their leaders, and true, some leaders were succeeded by their children. But the path was the same, the children raised up by the community. To reach Master status in the guilds of Esthar one had to become a master artisan in some capacity, their position was elected true, but there was a tremendous amount of wealth at stake, and so many people. Nobody could say they knew every member of the mag-transit system by face, let alone name. The top and the bottom were two different worlds for the larger guilds, and the power wielded commensurately incomparable. Galbadia was simply more. The leaders won their position by dint of their influence. And while sure, it was possible someone could rise through the ranks to become one of the nobility, that was by far the exception.
Fury had always been an important man, but now he owned factories, and fields. Others paid him for the privilege of using his lands and equipment. He did not often speak of it. Others were more vocal. He thought of Echt. He thought about the sneer Fujin had mustered when she reported about Echt's bragging about her mines, and her profits. He had spent the last day walking to the industrial sector, watching people work. He'd been offered jobs on the spot. He had let them talk, and asked about a lot of things. Then he had waited for the shift to end. And he had bought some drinks for a few of the workers and listened to them talk. Then he spent all the gil he had on him buying food and drinks. Fujin had hovered at his shoulder, watching, listening. She hadn't said a word as his face sunk deeper and deeper.
He hadn't asked her opinion. He had come up here to be alone. But now he found himself restless. He stood up and walked to the edge of the roof dropping down to catch his toes on the windowsill to their flat. He heard her as he fell and saw her as he landed, buckets arrayed around her, her hands a blur of motion. Her face was blank of expression, eye following the slow shuffle of the plastic that surrounded her. He pulled open the window and she stopped as the sounds of outside slipped in along with a cold breeze. He closed the window and she turned to face him.
"DONE?" she asked simply and he considered the question for only an instant. No.
"No." he answered, she started to turn back to the buckets but hesitated as he stood looking down at her. She laid the thin plastic pipes she was using as sticks across her legs.
"HELP?" she asked him, and he walked to the couch and sat down on it facing her, she watched, curious but silent.
"Is there any way to fix this?" her head tilted slightly at his question and he motioned out the window. She turned her head to follow his gesture.
"DELING?" He shook his head.
"More? I think… I'm still thinking, I guess. I, do you know… well." He paused to scratch his chin, muddling through the difficulty of voicing his question.
"I… Why don't good people come to power? Why is it all assholes? Echt, Deling, Vincennes… Everywhere, not just in Galbadia! Dollet, Esthar... " he paused then and hung his head, pulling the still-unlit smoke from his lips and putting it behind his ear. Fujin paused and chewed on the question he was wrestling with.
"Because…" she began slowly then her face firmed. "Because when good men get power, they use it up to help. When wicked men get power, they use it to push themselves higher." She answered and Squall leaned back on the couch.
"Oh." he said. "Yeah, that…" he trailed off, back into his own head. Fujin took her sticks and gently tapped out a quiet beat.
Fujin's gentle breathing tickled his chest as he lay on the couch with her nestled into his arms as he stared at the open book in front of him. He wasn't really reading, and had accepted that he would not be able to. Fujin falling asleep on him like this wasn't terribly new. However his recent introspective fugue that had lasted two days now had sort of broken when he'd realized that she hadn't bothered him about it once. She had simply accepted that it was happening and let it go. He couldn't help but remember Rinoa, to compare. When she had suspected something had been bothering him she had immediately started dropping 'subtle' hints that he should talk about it with someone. And when that failed, she would drop the subtlety. And when that failed she would confront him about it in the nicest way she could but it was still a confrontation.
Fujin had simply let it be. Existed near him, continuing on with her life and merely being present. She had answered when he asked her questions, and made sure they ate and occasionally did something, but it was always a question. She never forced him to do anything. That he'd never turned her down either was immaterial. It was different. And he found that once he'd noticed it he couldn't let go of that warm feeling of being understood. She saw him struggling and allowed him to struggle. He felt now he knew things he had never considered before. He felt a calm that came from a well reasoned decision, something that he had fully come to on his own.
He wanted to end Garden. He wanted to change the world again. It was a mighty undertaking but he felt it was the only correct action. He hadn't really told her about it yet. He would though. And soon. Now though, he let her sleep.
She looked so peaceful in sleep without any of her stiffness or poise she wore like armor against the world. He gently leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of her head. She murmured and pulled slightly tighter to him, as she did occasionally. He returned his eyes to the book he wasn't reading and glanced at the first paragraph again, absorbing nothing as his perception felt where she pressed against him, breathing slow and soft.
"You wanted to go dancing, right?" Squall asked, casually folding the book he was reading closed around his thumb as Fujin did pushups in the middle of the room, she paused at full extension and looked up at him, and nodded.
"We only have… five days left. So let's go." He lay on his back beside her holding his crossed legs up at a 45 degree angle from the ground, holding his core in tension.
"WANT?" she asked and he nodded back. Her smile was genuine. It had been on her mind, she had been looking wistfully at clubs as they walked by. And though they almost certainly couldn't go back to the silver star, there were others.
After they finished their exercise and got a light lunch of thin pancakes and preserves they made their way back to the flat where Fujin's method of dress changed dramatically. He'd been expecting to go more or less as they always did. But she had changed to something…. Far less conservative than her usual attire. When asked she'd reminded him it always got hot when there were that many people. Then more shyly commented that she liked the feeling of moving through the crowd. He filed this away and asked her how he should dress. She had said he was fine as he was, but he pressed just a little harder and she'd taken him out to one of the many second hand shops that littered the lower districts.
She took him by the hand, her face poised and serious but he could feel the energy in her as he was pulled along by the hand behind her. She had practically transformed as they stole through the chill of the night. The wind was blowing her hair back and forth sliding along her shorts that stopped just short of her knees. The metal in her face twinkled like the life in her eye when she looked back at him. A tight braided piece of plastic acting as a choker at her neck. The jacket with sleeves that didn't even reach her elbow or waist was the only nod to the temperature outside. It was over the neon green shirt that had its sleeves removed and the arm holes torn much wider. It revealed her black sports bra that stood out starkly against her pale skin. Her shoes were made for traction rather than studiness, and her socks didn't even cover her ankle.
It was the most skin he'd seen on her since she was in a cell waiting to die months ago. The energy that boiled off her distracted him from his relative undress. He had drawn the line at shorts, and she had gotten him pants that the knees had already worn through entirely. He had shoes not unlike hers. It was a big change, he could feel the air through them, a far cry from the boots he had worn his entire adult life. He had a jacket on that didn't even have sleeves, more of a vest than something proper, covered in little metal studs, though a significant number of them were missing. When she had told him he wouldn't be wearing a shirt he had been self-conscious but a single hand laid on his chest calmed his anxiety exactly long enough to agree.
They arrived at the club and Squall could feel the music from the sidewalk. The commotion out front was already alive. There was a queue to enter and the two got into it. He could feel the anticipation build as they slowly advanced toward the door. He was somewhat relieved to see that Fujin had been right about the dress of others, though some looked like they often did since coming to the city there were more that dressed far more like they did now. Like they were halfway through undressing or deciding that they wanted to show off every inch of skin they could. The two SeeD had a little more scarring than most, but less than some. Some of the scarring on a few of the people even looked intentional.
He stood so close he was physically touching Fujin, his hip tapping into hers every time they stepped forward, his hand on her back where he could feel her muscles turning as she kept her head on a swivel. Squall decided to keep an eye out as well and noticed that both of them were getting some more than passing glances from the crowd around them. Fujin's touch calmed him, he met her eye and she slowly let her eyes rove his body. It brought a light blush to his face, and a small smile to his face.
"WANTED." her tone was one part teasing, one part something huskier and Squall could think of nothing to say so responded by slipping his hand under her jacket to the bare skin of her back. He could feel her muscles jump a little as his fingers slid along the mostly smooth skin. The way she looked back at him for a moment gave the distinct impression of a wink though her eye didn't close.
He let his finger drag slowly down her spine, just slipping over three vertebrae but he could feel the restrained tension in the way her breathing pattern changed. He filed away this knowledge as they finally reached the front of the line, paid a cover charge and slipped inside to the physical wall of sound that impacted him as they stepped inside. It was a strange feeling to be back in a place where he felt his heartbeat fighting the bass. His hand slipped out of Fujin's shirt as she hooked a finger in his belt and gave it a tug. They made their way past the writhing crowd shifting in synch like a human tide. Each individual moving to the beat that obliterated everything else. The air inside was warm and humid, flush with the smell of sweat, flesh and the hormone essence of a hundred other people using what they had to escape their existence for a few hours. Fujin cornered around into a small alcove where the music was damped enough to speak, and a bar that sparkled and crackled with neon and contained lightning. Fujin ordered something, it came in a shot glass and was bright candy apple red. She reached up, gently taking reaching up to grasp his pierced ear and pulled his head down to speak above the sound by speaking so close her breath tickled his ear.
"NOT POISON." was her chosen phrasing and he almost laughed, reached past her to the bar, picked up the tiny glass the same time she took hers, then paused, hooked her arm with the drink around his and poised it by her mouth. Taking her meaning he shot it back in one gulp the same as she did. It tasted vaguely thick, the sharp sting of alcohol muddled by a menthol coolness and an abrupt sweetness that chased back the flavor. It settled into his stomach where the alcohol started to spread immediately and another kind of feeling, like a tingling beneath his skin began. He decided to trust Fujin as she left the cup and demonstrated by pushing herself against him that left him uncomfortably aware of his lack of clothing. All the same he felt her take his hands and pull him out to the floor.
The sound was a physical force that pushed the blood through his veins, and guided a motion as wind guides a sail. For the second time in his life he found himself amongst the many. This time however the experience was entirely different. He didn't need to keep his wits about him. He could simply be in the moment. And with Fujin there to pull him along, his existence became a spiral. All around him hands brushed him, arms, bodies. For once it didn't feel intrusive, it felt like he was part of something here. In this moment, Fujin for her part was practically pressed against him and they moved easily, every twitch of her body transferred to him, the simple motions putting them in deep synch. He could almost close his eyes, for a time he did, though when he opened them the world had become foggy all the same, some part of it was fog pumped in from above, to scatter the lasers and diffuse the strobing lights.
It was a mess, a fugue-inducing riot of pure physicality. Becoming one with the tide. The night became a blur, more than once they wandered back to the bar, money changed hands, drinks flowed, and the energy deepened. At some point he became lost. His mind losing time and catching up with him only hours later.
The two of them sat against the building, Fujin's jacket was missing, he couldn't remember where it went. His back was pressed against the cold stone of the side of the building as his breath came in tidal waves as his heart slowed. Fujin was sitting between his legs pressing her back against his chest, her thin scrap of cloth posing as a shirt smothered with sweat and the only thing holding them apart. Her head rested on his shoulder as she looked up into the clouds. He could hear her breathing.
"Wow. Okay, I think… I think I understand." Her laugh was breathless, a hand slapped down on his thigh and rubbed appreciatively.
"TIRED." her voice on the edge of a laugh. He brought his arms up and circled her middle hugging her to him. Her breath caught as he did and she leaned her head away from him subtly so she could see him.
"I know the feeling… but… let's chill for a second." he said and she made a sound deep in her throat laying her head back against him again. It was several minutes of his fingers gently touching her ribs and sides as she subtly pressed back into him. Her hand on his thigh tightened her fingers digging into him in the only place she could reach.
"FEET HURT." she confessed, rolling her ankles as he looked on.
"Yeah these shoes don't have great ankle support." Squall commented retreating from his molestations a little as she loosened her hand and they sat another few long moments before Fujin leaned forward with a groan and got back to her feet. She turned around and offered him a hand. He took it with a smile and she easily levered him to his feet. As they stood unsteady for a moment until Squall adjusted his Junctions to actually enhance himself again, having dismissed practically everything at Fujin's suggestion. The cold air became dull rather than the sharp dagger each gust had possessed, the ache of his muscles dulled. The feeling of lightness and the warmth of her touch stick to him, even the sweaty earth smell of her hair lingers on him. The two of them take a bus back home, laying practically on top of eachother. People on the bus were looking at them, but somehow, in the night and the days before, Squall had decided that he didn't care what they thought anymore; It seemed Fujin agreed on that point.
The day arrived and Squall stood with a bag over his shoulder with effects for a longer trip out into the wilds of Galbadia on Fury's inspection cruise. Fujin pulled the door closed and locked it, checking the handle to make sure it'd taken. She turned around and nodded to him and they were off. The bus took them to the edges of the industrial park that bordered the military depot they were to meet Fury at, it was about twenty minutes before they were supposed to arrive so they stopped and quickly took a moment to assess their junctions and what equipment they were bringing with them. A fairly large portion of the packs were given over to ammunition, as they were not using standard military weapons; if they were allowed to keep hold of them they would be on their own for supplies in that regard. Otherwise, a bedroll, a few comfort items, spare socks and clothes were the order of the day. It added up to a respectable sized kitbag. Both of them wore their Gunblades, something they had mostly been out of the habit of. It made them slightly less conspicuous going through the streets, and let them avoid the hassle of weapons checks, generally. It also made them less likely to get mugged. Gunblades were expensive tools after all and some persuasion had been used already to dissuade muggers. Something Squall had decided he didn't want to encourage any further. Now, knowing they would be leaving the city and having to potentially deal with monsters again, it became less of an impediment and more of an asset.
Satisfied with their kits they approached the checkpoint that was the main entrance to the depot. They were watched as they approached and Squall produced the conscription letter Fury had given them. The two of them were quickly peeled away to an outbuilding where a woman in a glabadian military uniform quickly informed them they were, frankly, too conspicuous as they were. Something that Fujin and Squall let go without argument. Street punks were less rare where there weren't streets after all. The soldier opened a box that had been set aside to reveal two fresh looking olive green uniforms with accompanying body armor and three quarter helmets in the West Galbadian design. Squall and Fujin looked from the base guard to the box and then Fujin grabbed the hem of her top and started to pull it off, turning her back. Squall undid his belt and then unlaced his boots. After a few minutes of fiddling with the body armor the two of them were dressed like Galbadian Paratroopers. The creme-de-la-creme of the galbadian military, formerly the output of Galbadia Garden before it was lost.
The pants were always a little loose in these outfits, granting greater freedom of movement because they material didn't have that much give to it, really. It was weighty but not stifling. The breastplate and hip protectors were more restrictive, the thigh and shin guards further adding to the burden along with relatively thin pauldrons that made Squall's over-the-shoulder draw just a little bit more difficult. Fujin fiddled with the hip protectors and Squall eventually removed his breastplate and with a moment's fiddling removed the pauldron on that side. As they started to modify the armor the Guard started to talk about damaging military property and was met with two extremely intense unimpressed expressions followed by a sharp snort from Fujin that silenced her protests immediately.
The most disorienting part of it all was putting on the helmet for Squall. The sensor array built into the helmets could be disorienting and border on sensory overload at times. A sound amplifier with impulse dampeners, comms, Infra red and ultraviolet in addition to image sharpening, magnification suites, and a heads-up-display showing bio from the synched armor that monitored vitals, he noticed his blood pressure was slightly elevated. Probably the smokes. The autoinjector system in the chest piece was new, Squall disabled his immediately the last thing he needed was some unknown cocktail throwing off his reactions.
The guard looked on with fascination as they modified their kit immediately and started practicing draws and checking chafe and carry. Satisfied after a few minutes The two SeeD now disguised as Galbadian military special forces were escorted out of the building as the Guard explained quietly the base command structure. Fujin and Squall both committed the information to memory as quickly as they could, quietly absorbing as much information both spoken and unspoken as they could. They were escorted into a small crowd of other soldiers who were lounging on boxes or standing around smoking near a convoy of gently grumbling trucks waiting for them to move on. Two armored carriers, one covered truck likely intended for supplies, and four outrider motorcycles. The soldiers were ten of the blue-uniformed G-soldier regulars, two massive slabs of powered armor that passed for the Elites in the west, and now two paratroopers who immediately attracted a fair bit of attention.
The guard Snapped a salute to the two red-armored elites and spoke in a loud, clear voice.
"Presenting Paratroopers at request of General Caraway they are to be integrated into the convoy at locations of their choosing, sir!" The guard thrust the papers she had taken from Squall and Fujin out at full extension waiting as one of the Elites stepped over to take the paper and gingerly unfolded it to read. Looking up at the two helmeted SeeD.
"Well. Ain't that dandy. I'm First Lieutenant Lenword, this is Second Lieutenant Sephans. We're in overall command of this convoy below the General." He indicated the other elite who raised a powered arm an inch and lifted a thumb. Fujin nodded sharply and looked to Squall who considered how to introduce them. Paratroopers frequently stood beside the normal army hierarchy. Sent where their skills and training would give them the largest impact.
"I am Specialist Hawk and this is Specialist Lee. We were diverted by special request of the General following an intel report. I'll be in the carry truck, Lee?" He asked and Fujin thrust her chin toward the bikes.
"The specialist requests a fifth cycle." He said and she nodded, Lenword looked between them.
"You always talk for her?" He motioned to her with his head rather than move an arm.
"Yes." He improvised as he could feel Fujin side-eye him.
"So she's a mute then." He said turning to look back at Fujin, which was interrupted by Squall clearing his throat slightly.
"Not exactly." He said into his hand as he rubbed his chin.
"There a story there?" Lenward riposted. Squall paused a second considering.
"It's personal, you'd have to ask her." Throughout, there were eyes sliding back and forth between the Elite and Fujin who bore the attention with all her usual outward calm, her head only turning slightly to consider Lenward more directly.
"How'd she tell me?" A smirk finding its way to his lips.
"She wouldn't." Fujin crossed her arms impatiently. There was a solid five seconds of silence and Lenward pointed across the tarmac of the depot.
"Grevais, get another bike for the 'Trooper." and one of the blue uniformed squaddies took off at a jog.
A few moments later the Second L.T. looked back to Fujin then to Squall before speaking up.
"Wait, if she's on a bike and doesn't talk how is she gonna give any useful information from outrider?" He asked and Squall glanced at Fujin who subtly tucked her elbows back toward herself, Squall nodded.
"She'll stay tight to the formation, more freedom of response to threats on the move that way." Squall explained. Fujin nodded slightly.
Fury arrived shortly thereafter. He was positioned in a customized carrier not unlike the two others, though his had a turret mounted to the top of it, as well as additional long range communication gear. Even with the Scream's lingering effects it should get him a few kilometers of communication. The Elites met with the general just outside his command carrier. Fujin and Squall assembled at the edge of the group, visible but not interfering. Squall caught Fury glancing at him and nodded subtly. The general was no-nonsense and didn't waste much time talking with the officers. Then they all mounted up. Squall took the passenger seat in the supply truck, a squaddie at the wheel. As they pulled out of Deling Squall was quickly thankful for the anti-dazzle. The sun streamed down bursting through the clouds of the city as the industrial park shrunk into the background behind them. Squall sat quietly, his attention was primarily on the outriders, his helmet focused forward to take advantage of the image magnification and sharpening. The pregnant silence in the truck was clearly getting to the squaddie as Squall could hear him shuffling and muttering under his breath to himself. Tapping on the wheel and window. Squall let it go for a while but after about half an hour he got irritated.
"If you can't keep a lid on it, ask." He snapped and the squaddie jumped audibly.
"W-what?" he stammered.
"These helmets have a tactical enhancement, if you can't keep still and focus on the job, that's a problem. So ask the question." Squall said without taking his attention from watching the plums of dust that signaled the Outrider bikes moving ahead and to the flanks of the convoy. Being in the third vehicle limited his sightlines somewhat. Most of what they had in the back of the truck was supplies to be delivered to the bases.
"Oh… Um. W-what did it take to become a 'trooper?" Squall considered the question. Truth was, it was a common path for rejected SeeD candidates if they couldn't form a good relationship with GFs. Or if they failed out in the social or infiltration roles they would be flushed back to Galbadia Garden. Rare was the Paratrooper who started out wanting to be one from Squall's knowledge.
"You had to flush out of the SeeD program." Squall decided on a lie that was easy to remember.
"Why'd you want to be SeeD? Bunch of mercs, no loyalty, no country. Hey, is it true? I heard that they replace their soul with a monster's. 'Swhy they're so strong." The Squaddie asked glancing over at him.
"No, it's not like that." Squall had to fight to keep a straight face. He'd heard worse accusations but the irony was almost overpowering.
"And anyway, I wouldn't know. I'm not SeeD." And Squall was slightly surprised to feel he meant it.
"Oh, but like. You met some of them yeah? Did you ever meet the commander? Leonhart his name was I think? I heard he's like… really young." Squall had to turn his head away to stop from cracking a smile.
"No. Why, want his autograph?" He answered after a moment.
"No! I just, you hear things…" The squaddie said defensively.
"Don't believe third hand dreck." Squall said and the squaddie, chastened, was quiet for a few minutes allowing Squall to get back to his overwatch. He had to keep his head quite still to get a usable image from his mag-optics.
"I heard that the general thinks SeeD is after him, that's why you're here." He piped up and Squall internally sighed.
"Was there a question in there somewhere?" Squall asked sardonically.
"Do you think we're gonna get ambushed by SeeD?" He asked and from the way his voice cracked it was clearly something that really bothered him.
"You ever fought SeeD, kid?" Squall asked, turning his head to regard the squaddie whom he was coming to recognize as younger than him.
"No. and I don't know anybody who walked away from meeting one. Like, what do you do against something that can cut a goddamn tank with a sword? I've got Fire, but I heard they literally just walk through magic! I saw a video from a sec-cam of one eating a Ray bomb right at their feet and all it did was toss them around! Are they even human anymore?" The Squaddie's voice was raising as he spoke, keeping both hands on the wheel but looking over at Squall.
"Calm down." Squall cut him off as he was taking a breath to start in again.
"Tell you what, if SeeD does show up, you leave them to Specialist Lee and I. We're trained for it." Squall turned his head to look directly at the g-soldier who looked like he wasn't terribly convinced.
"Have you ever seen what a gunblade does to whatever it hits if you use it correctly?" the young man shook his head sharply.
"It's tricky, but if you're skilled you can turn even an adamantoise into steaming wreckage with one good trigger pull. This is a monster killing weapon." Squall's hand drifted up to touch the grip of his gunblade.
"SeeD are just People, tough, fast, strong people. But People. They bleed, they can die." This actually did seem to calm the boy down a bit.
"You fought SeeD before?" He asked, Squall took a breath and considered what his answer.
"Killed a Junctioner, once. They're not invincible." He decided on the truth, Braids was no SeeD, but she was far tougher than a normal human.
"Jucntioner?" The boy asked.
"SeeD's powers come from Junction. It's…. It's like… wearing a demigod as armor. I guess…" Squall brushed off the questioning look from the squaddie.
"It's hard to explain, the books didn't do a good job explaining it either." He added.
The squaddie seemed to accept this answer and was significantly more still letting Squall focus on the task at hand. They were heading south west along the Wilburn mountains This was a journey that would take three days out, three days back if all went according to plan.
The first clue something was wrong was the sudden storm clouds. From a blue empty sky to gathered thunderheads in three seconds is a large warning that something is wrong. The figure appeared and a moment later the expanding zone of dimensional disconnect that signaled the calling of a Guardian Force was his next concern. The lead APC was still recognizable when the sphere collapsed. Smoking and crackling with energy scar. Squall scanned the ridge for the targets before making himself obvious. He'd placed himself in this truck as the least likely to be hit first and decrease the chances of him being taken unaware. Seems it worked. Two figures came down from the foothills in the kind of incredible strides only possible by junctioned individuals. The one in the lead seemed unarmed, but the one a stride behind wielded a long two handed axe. They leapt into the air and came down with a two handed over head strike that passed through the metal of the tank with an audible scream of metal. He was already holding down the window lowering button as it slowly rolled down as he waited. He grabbed the edge of the window, and climbed out to leap forward.
He landed on both feet as he leapt from the hood of the truck, already running with the momentum, the gunblade torn from its sheath as the flames rose from the crippled APC as the g-soldiers tried to figure out what was happening. The Axe wielding woman pulled her blade from the engine block and turned to face him. Her weapon was long, she immediately swung it in a warding sweep. Fast enough to confirm what he already knew. She was junctioned.
Her sweep caused him to hesitate just one step. Then he brought his weapon across, there was an ancient adage, if your opponents greatest asset is their weapon, do not attack them, attack the weapon. Squall brought the Gunblade around with every inch of his strength. Metal hit metal, then the trigger struck. The head of the blade split in a shower of sparks and flew off into the weeds.
The heartbeat the woman stood in shocked paralysis cost her dearly. His kick folded her cleanly in half. He jumped backward, swinging his foot backward and bringing up his other foot to stomp her head straight down into the dirt. He felt the metal of her helmet buckle as she started to scream.
The other battle had ended just as cleanly, Fujin laying out on the grass her leg pitifully kicking her face squeezed into a tight ricus of incredible pain the scorch marks where the thunder that wreathed him had grounded through her.
The lightning swirled and arced around him igniting the grass, his arms flexed in a pose of balance and poise, He wore a pair of fatigue pants ending in ankle high combat boots. His belt was simple but above it tactical webbing anchored to a plate carrier vest ending in a gorget that protected all but the front of his neck. His head had a full face helmet painted with a vast blue-green face Squall recognized instantly as Quetzacoatl. He'd never seen an attack junction maintain the aura of elemental might that the unarmed fighter was wreathed in like a halo of divine judgement.
"Oi!" Squall shouted, and the helmeted warrior turned to him. He could feel the anger radiate off the fighter as he ground his boot into the helmet he had pinned to the dirt.
There was a moment where the warrior looked from Squall to the ground and back up. Then a muffled voice shouted loud enough to just barely be heard over the battle around them.
"I'mma fuck you up!" He shouted and then with the flicker of a toe the man shot toward him. Speed though alone wasn't enough to best Squall. His blade flashed in a picture perfect overhead crush, his teeth bared.
"You'll Try." Squall growled. His eyes opened wide as the fighter threw his body backward digging into the earth and his two gloved hands slashed palm flat together with a titanic clap as his hands slammed together on the flats of the blade. Arresting his swing for the split second until the trigger pulled and his hands were blown away to either side and the recoil of the aborted swing jolted up squall's arms along with what felt like a hundred thousand volts of electricity. He spasmed, falling back eating the advantage of his trigger even as the fighter in front of him found his footing again.
They stared each other down for half a second. The next five seconds were a furious melee. The masked warrior's attacks bleeding lightning like water shaken from a gong after a storm only stopped from destroying him by a swift adjustment of junction sacrificing all other defenses to block the electrical assault. Punches deflected across metal of armor, kicks met with kicks, grabs smashed away. They were so evenly matched that the first mistake was sure to be the end. And yet, they clashed, a whirling dance of death where a man with a two handed blade more than a meter long broke even against a man fighting with only his bare hands. Neither cast a spell, neither could find the space, It was a battle decided by pure martial skill. The five seconds ended with a tiny gap where both of them snapped a step back.
"When did the West hire SeeD?" The warrior asked, spitting pink from his mouth.
"They didn't." Squall responded adjusting his grip and rolling a shoulder that had took a vicious blow. The warrior danced forward only to be warded again. They ended up orbiting each other for only a moment before they dove in again. As they fought they fell into a rythme it was more complicated than he'd experienced before, the stakes much higher, but slowly he came to recognize the style. Once he did he started waiting, and then when he had a moment he did something gunbladers rarely did, he took one hand off his blade and struck out with a vicious backhand. His knuckles hit the mask and snapped the fighter's head to the side, ending their engagement as the man staggered backward Squall's followup stroke took the form of him dropping the gunblade entirely and tackling the fighter to the ground.
The opponent's style didn't have great use for grappling and indeed the melee became a brawl where raw strength and leverage became more important than finesse or skill The battle ended as the fighter managed to slip a cocked leg under Squall and send him flying up into the air even as Squall took his opportunity and reached deep inside him opening a vast dome of dimensional disconnection fueled by his oldest junction. Within, Shiva shattered the warrior from within the endless ice of her pocket realm flaying and freezing all in one. As the dome collapsed Squall was just finding his feet his breath coming in short gasps as the bruise across his abdomen was already forming. The helmeted warrior staggered and fell to one knee.
"Had enough Dincht!?" Squall's voice played across the space. The warrior almost fell over, he reaced up to the dented and cracked helmet and wrenched it off throwing it aside. Within was a familiar shock of blonde hair. The tattoo on his face joined by another that rested beneath each eye and from his jawline up his chin.
"That you Leonhart!? Th-thought you said the West wasn't taking on SeeD!?" He shouted and started running toward Squall.
"Not SeeD." Squall answered standing up and peeling off the Helmet. The Galbadian soldiers around them looked back and forth in confusion only a few moments before they opened fire. On both of them.
Twenty seconds later every soldier in the convoy who had raised a weapon was laying still on the ground. Squall looked across at Zell who was looking back his way. Both of them were breathing hard. Bruised and battered. They each looked to their partners then back at each other.
"Not SeeD, huh? Finally figured it all out? I think we need to have a chat." Zell said between gasps of air. Squall nodded.
"Truce." Squall answered back walking to retrieve his gunblade and started the slow process of reloading it while he turned to face the last, unopened APC, the one that contained his longtime contact in Galbadia.
"If you'd get the girls moving, I have one more thing to do." Zell nodded gravely and looked toward his partner with the destroyed weapon. The intensity of the healing thread sent her way made her audibly gasp and twitch. Meanwhile Fujin silently rose from where she'd been laying on the ground, waiting for her moment. She left her helmet on for a moment as Zell walked toward her.
"Quistis, that you under there?" He shouted at her as he trudged toward her. Squall hesitated at the doors of the APC, its mounted gun silent through the whole encounter.
"Not Quite, Zell. Fujin." he started out speaking to Zell but turned his head to look at her. She reached up and pulled off her helmet her hair a stringy mess but undaunted. Zell paused, mid-stride, his hands balling into fists. She stood with her gunblade hanging from one hand.
"DINCHT." She said with a respectful nod.
"What the fuck is this?" Zell asked turning toward Squall who looked over his way.
"In a minute." Squall jammed his blade between the doors at the rear of the APC and one pull of the trigger the doors crumpled and he was able to lever them open. Inside Fury sat behind two elites who were trying to block the general with their bodies.
"Fury. You know as well as I do if I wanted to dead you'd already be dead." Squall stated.
"What are your terms, Leonhart." Caraway's voice contained a current of resignation.
"Abandon the West. Sign your assets over to the workers of them. Walk away, or the next time we meet will be the last time we meet."
"...What?" Fury's face screwed up in confusion.
"I've had a lot of time to think, and we just keep making the same mistakes, I'm done playing the games of the powerful. Those are my terms." Squall then stalked out of the APC leaving Fury stunned to silence.
"Zell." Squall shouted at the stunned blonde.
"Let's talk."