The gigantic Vegnagun sat immobile on its hind legs, commanding an overbearing presence in the secluded chamber barely lit by spotlights. At certain sections of the Machina weapon, a number of labourers garbed in washed out overalls hung around, carrying out thorough inspection or making amendments to areas that require tuning up. Flaring orange sparks ignited the spacious zone of the Machina's left eye socket as a man was working there on welding some few pieces of metal together. The chamber echoed with clamours of gears turning, steel clanging, ropes twisting and sheaves gliding along zip lines.
On completion of his task, the man tugged his goggles away, revealing a lacklustre pair of eyes that matched the rest of his forgettable face. He pulled his leather gloves off with his teeth, freeing his sweaty hands that were already stained by dark blotches of petroleum grease. Attached to the belt around his hip was a clipboard, holding a few pages of paper that he retrieved and revised with a pen for reporting purposes.
Assigned with the responsibility of overseeing the work in progress was Seth, who circled the weapon to monitor each labourer. He would linger if there were further corrections to be made, or gave a nod of approval to those who succeeded in executing the correct modifications. The head of the weapon development project made a stop at the bridge and looked up to the man who was still hovering by the Machina's left eye socket.
"Yna oui ymsucd tuha [Are you almost done?], Bakhti?" he cried, tilting his head sideways to read Bakhti's response. "Dra dacdehk femm lussahla eh yh ruin [The testing will commence in an hour]."
Bakhti reattached the clipboard to his hip and re-entered the control panel area within the eye socket, but not without yelling a reply, "Ymsucd, Cen. Drana'c zicd y luibma suna ymekhsahdc dryd e haat du tu [Almost, Sir. There's just a couple more alignments that I need to do]."
An impatient sigh made its way out of Seth. "Syga ed xielg [Make it quick]."
Bakhti started operating the control panels, switching on buttons that would determine if the Machina's eyes would function as he would like them to be. He listened to the roar of the engines, carefully discerning the faintest sound of error; he observed the control charts displayed on screens for any hints of anomaly; and he fiddled with levers to ensure all circuits were running smoothly. Finding the weapon's eyes to be in satisfactory conditions, he updated the pages of his report and left to come down to Seth.
Bakhti joined Seth by his side and trailed his eyes across the gargantuan weapon towering above them. Unlike others who would be brimming with pride, he felt… nothing but contrition knowing that he was partly responsible for building this weapon of destruction.
"Eh zicd y var sehidac… fa'mm pa ypma du veht uid dra aqdahd uv drec Machina'c bufan [In just a few minutes… we'll be able to find out the extent of this Machina's power]," Seth remarked, barely hiding his exhilaration despite the subdued tone of his voice.
"Pid fryd uv Munt Ahura'c nasyngc, Cen? Fa ryjah'd luhvekinat vaamehkc yht asudeuhc ehdu dra Machina [But what of Lord Ahura's remarks, Sir? We haven't configured feelings and emotions into the Machina]."
Seth scoffed. "Dryd fuh'd pa halaccyno. Dryd Ahura ryc duu cuvd bmyoehk mujan du Zako [That won't be necessary. That Ahura has gone too soft after years of playing lover to Zako]." He gazed sharply at Bakhti and asserted, "Machina tuh'd haat vaamehkc un asudeuhc. Drao haat lmajan baubma du lnayda yht nih dras [Machina don't need feelings or emotions. They need clever and skilled people to create and run them]."
Without allowing him to say anything in return, Seth left to make final reviews of the Machina. Bakhti replaced his goggles back onto his eyes, an effort to prevent them from showing the rising anxiety and contempt that he was feeling. The many years he spent working alongside Seth had taught him that the Al-Bhed man is capable of doing anything, even turning others into sacrificial pawns, to create new and the best of the best Machinas. This was exacerbated by the man's sense of superiority about his Machina-making abilities.
To his judgement, Vegnagun's monstrosity made Seth's decision to dismiss claims about the weapon's flaws ever more perilous… and he dreaded the consequences.
"Ynah'd oui kuehk du ramb sa rana [Aren't you going to help me here], Bakhti?" Seth called, issuing his demand from somewhere near the Machina's front legs.
He almost raged at the Al-Bhed man for calling him Bakhti. He was growing sick of the role he was playing. He was not named as such at birth, and he was neither a native of Kilika nor a refugee from the Luca Highroad. He was Tashi, son to ordinary parents hailing from the grand city of Zanarkand. As a child, he never was a paragon of anything. He was mediocre, be it in physique or intelligence. His dull face, with its plain features also made it easier for him to blend into the background – to be unnoticeable, and he was comfortable with being just that.
Yet, ironically, it was his dullness that would eventually bring recognition to his name. He was fourteen when he was recruited into the armed forces under the orders of Michewah, who founded a new branch for political espionage. His unmemorable face made him an almost default choice for incognito missions, where he excelled in the art of impersonation, and collecting classified information from those who were tight-lipped.
By the time he was seventeen, Michewah had him assigned for frequent missions to Kilika. He was told that the purpose was to build a persuasive persona for a forthcoming mission that was intentionally undisclosed to him. As soon as it was evident that he could enter and exit the island city without raising suspicions, he was accorded the position of a scribe within the Dome, where he had to learn the Al-Bhed language and the art of Machina-making. He mastered both the Al-Bhed language and specialty within a year, and was quickly hired as one of the attendants for the city's head of state, Yu Yevon.
That was when he was informed about him being assigned by Yevon to a high risk mission to infiltrate Bevelle's Headquarter. Since then, he had been reporting directly – albeit in covert measures – to the head of city-state.
"Ah! If it isn't Bakhti," yet another calling of his false name broke his pensiveness.
Zako came earlier than the appointed hour for the weapon testing with his usual company, Ahura. "Is everything set for the testing?"
Bakhti forced out a stiff smile. "Almost… my lord."
"What do you mean almost, Bakhti?" squawked Seth, who had climbed to the top of the Machina's head. "The Vegnagun's ready to be tested."
Zako's face pulled into a wide grin. "Very well then… let's see what you have for us, Seth."
Not even a minute went by before Seth began plying the instrument situated on the Machina's head, which was built to imitate the mechanisms of a piano. As he strummed the large ivory consoles around him, beams of blue and pink lights were ignited out of the weapon's cranium. A musical piece was reverberating in the chamber… bringing with it gradual signs of the Machina awakening: discharge of mass grey steam from intricately designed steel pipes; the spinning of gears that formed the weapon's limbs; menacing pair of blue orbs glowing from the deep sockets of its skull; and its closed mouth opening like a rotating door to make way for the canon that could easily be activated if the weapon overseer willed it.
"Beautiful…" Zako sighed, sounding almost infatuated by the majesty of the weapon.
Contrary to the head of the city-state, Bakhti was observing the events unfolding in front of them with trepidation. The instinct to flee was clamouring inside him, as though it was guided by the desperate calls of his ancestors to save him.
In the tangling between admiration and fear, none of them was able to predict the beginning of the catastrophe that would befall them. As if having a mind of its own, the Vegnagun made an abrupt sweeping move with its tail, hurling four labourers against the wall. Bakhti watched with horror as the weapon pressed on, launching red rays from the end of its tail that burned the bodies of the labourers until they were but pieces dissolving into Pyreflies.
The demise of the labourers was seemingly not adequate to extinguish the weapon's apparent thirst for destruction at anything that it laid its eyes on. It rapidly detected five other labourers, who saw what was coming for them and started taking flight for their lives. The weapon did not move a limb, yet Bakhti discerned the glimmer from the nodes on its upper body. In a blink of an eye, the colourful nodes ejected round rays of light, targeting the labourers wherever they were heading to, and pummelling the ground with deafening blasts. Grey smog screened the outcome of the assault on their bodies, but their bone-chilling screams were enough to speak of their pain. Once their yelps and cries of help were muted, they had all too diffused into Pyreflies.
"Seth… we've seen what we needed to see," Zako belatedly remarked, calmer than Bakhti thought anyone should be after witnessing the gruesome ends of others, while also facing the imminence of his or her own death. His bearing though, alluded to the draining away of his esteem for the weapon. Left behind was a quiet temper that could be fatal to those that it was directed at.
They all waited for Seth to offer his response… but seconds went by and he showed no signs of Zako's remark reaching him. He romped the instrument he was controlling, drumming his fingers against the large ivory keys as though he was a performer on stage and all others were merely his audience.
Overtime, electrical currents began to accumulate around the weapon's horns, which Bakhti knew would soon be aimed at him, Zako and Ahura – the last remaining survivors in the chamber. The minute the trio perceived the incoming assault, they had all rolled their bodies elsewhere along the bridge. A second delay in evasion would have them mowed down by sparks of lightning. Ahura had started screaming Seth's name, urging him to stop… and again, his calls went unheeded.
It was as if Seth was possessed by the spirits that were dwelling within the Vegnagun to play and play and play…
From a distance, Bakhti spied Zako pulling out the rifle from his baldric. He pointed the firearm towards the Al-Bhed man and asserted, "You leave me with no choice, Seth."
Two bullets were fired, hitting Seth who finally discontinued manning the Machina to clutch on his bleeding wounds. Zako quickly marched his way to the top of the giant weapon, arriving by Seth's side in no less than a few minutes. A frown dug deep lines of anger along his forehead as he whacked his rifle across Seth's face.
Disappointment laced the tone of his voice as he decided, "The Vegnagun is out."
As the sunset redness melded into the cobalt blue of evening skies, neon lights gradually set the city of Bevelle alight. Geometrical grid outlines glimmered pedestrian walkways that had turned into movable transportation devices; the presence of hyper-realistic holograms intensified; and human waitpersons had all been replaced with interactive Machinas as Bevelle residents retired into their homes, or were winding down in places of entertainment and relief.
The evening stillness and repose from the streets could too be felt within the city's most hectic institution at day – the Headquarter. Hallways pealed with the sound of footsteps as statespersons and scribes retreated into their private chambers to call it a day. As the noises quietened down, only the whispers of attendants were left to be heard as they hurried their ways to answer to the needs of their masters.
Bakhti had secluded himself at the least visited corner of the labyrinthine library, as he often does every other day. He sat in a habitual silence, stretching the limits of his ears to capture the faintest of sound. When he was sure that no one else was around besides him, he retrieved an orange phosphorescent sphere from his small duffel bag and laid it onto the wooden table before him. After inhaling deeply, he gave the sphere a light touch and heard its recording function turning on.
"Tashi. Twenty-fifth day of the third month, in the year xx12. Weapon testing for the Vegnagun had commenced under the direction of Lord Zako of Bevelle. In the aftermath, nine workers passed on at the hands of the weapon. Due to its inability to discern its own allies, Vegnagun as a project has been declared a failure. Lord Zako has decided not to-"
The sound of a tome being shut close interrupted him.
Quaking in fear, Bakhti whirled his head around and searched through the dimness for the other presence. Hidden between two bookshelves, at a barely lit section of the chamber, was a recognizable figure, who had chosen to step into the little light there was to reveal himself. His well-defined eyes and nose made him the most beautiful Al-Bhed Bakhti had ever seen… but also the most guileful.
"Sir… Ahura. What are you… doing down here?" he asked, struggling to halt the quivering of his lips as he coerced a smile.
"Lord Zako wanted me to search through the old archives to create more special Machinas, considering that we just lost our upper hand – the Vegnagun…" Unlike their usual gentleness, Ahura's eyes had taken a cold disposition as he neared Bakhti. "And what have you been doing down here, Bakhti… if that is even your real name?"
Their eyes were now locked onto each other. Bakhti swallowed.
There was no way he could get away this time.