X
"There is nothing more dangerous than an enemy in the guise of a friend."
--Truism

Squall woke up with a hangover and a headache, and wondered why they had to drug him so heavily. His stomach was sending complaints to his brain, and he suspected that if he so much as looked at food, it would rebel. The sunlight hurt his eyes, forcing the jacket to close them again.

"Guard," the jacket called. "Get me some medicine for this." There were the sounds of someone walking off, and he sat up. He felt light-headed.

So they know I'm here, Squall thought. If they got out. No, they can't have been captured. If they had, Dyne would be over here to gloat...

There was a noise, and the jacket opened Squall's eyes. The guard was back, handing him a cup full of something. Taking it, he drank it. It was faintly magical, he guessed--it worked almost instantly. He stood up.

"Lord Dyne has gone to oversee the base on the Island Closest to Hell," the guard said. "The Guardian Naja has gone to the Island Closest to Heaven. You are to be in charge here, but Dyne will be in contact if you need him."

Squall nodded. Whether or not I need him.

"Five days hence, everything shall be ready to begin the invasion of Esthar. Due to our position and the time it will take to move such a large quantity of troops, we will need to leave in three and a half. Shall we begin preparations?"

"Immediately."

"Yes, Sire." The guard turned and walked out, and Squall followed. Five days until they hit Esthar. That's not much time. Hell... that's no time at all...

"Sire!" someone yelled from down the corridor, and Squall looked up automatically. "Two jacketed men are coming. Escorting a sorceress."

"What?"

"They're on an... odd landing craft now, awaiting permission to dock. Shall we let them?"

The jacket paused. "They wear the jackets, do they not?"

"Yes, sir, but the sorceress--"

"I think we will have to trust Naja for now," the jacket replied evenly. The man nodded.

"Will you be in your throne room, Sire?"

That would be Dobe's house, Squall translated. "Yes."

Taking a left on the street, Squall moved for the center of the city. What can this be...?

The inside of Dobe's house had been refurnished, to the somewhat sinister, lush surroundings Dyne favored. Black and silver were prominent, along with the snake motif he loved. However, this time there was also a fair-sized, golden statue of a lion. Griever. Always gloating, Squall thought. It's just to remind people like Naja and I that he has us.

Sitting in the throne, Squall tested the jacket again. Again, he could do nothing. Even if I could, he thought, what good would it do? I'd still be stuck here, and Dyne would get very suspicious if I tried to leave.

There was a noise outside, and a guard came in. Saluting, he motioned extravagantly to the door.

"Two jacketed men who claim to be two of our scouts have found a sorceress and brought her in. They seek an audience with your excellency."

"Who claim...?"

"Their landing craft was... unlike any of ours. Many doubt that they are truly in Lord Dyne's employ."

"Who are they?"

"I did not ask for names, my lord, but the Sorceress claims to be Sorceress Rinoa."

Rinoa! The jacket took a double-take. "Describe them."

"Average height. Young, black-haired. Her companions are a taller, blonde man and a black-haired man of moderate size."

"Armed?"

"Her escorts are armed with blade weapons, one like yours and one a katana. The sorceress herself is not."

"Keep the escorts outside the throne room," the jacket said. "Bring the sorceress in."

The man nodded. Squall stood up, feeling his gunblade bump against his leg. The descriptions sound a lot like Seifer and Nida, he thought. But if they came here... why? The minute they grabbed me, they'd be found out and have the entire base down on them. Not a great plan. It makes no sense. Unless... unless these actually are Dyne's scouts. No--SeeD is the only place I know of that uses gunblades, and Seifer is the only person other than me who I know got one. But--

There was a noise on the stairs, and Rinoa came into view, followed by a guard. "Leave us," the jacket snapped. The guard nodded, and turned to go back down the stairs.

Rinoa stepped forward. "So..." she started.

"You've made a mistake in coming here," the jacket said, glaring at her. I couldn't agree more, Squall thought.

Rinoa giggled. "Well... I hope not. I dunno... I mean, this wasn't really my plan, you know?"

"Why are you here?"

Rinoa sighed. "I was hoping... we were hoping to get you back. Everyone really misses you."

"I serve Dyne now."

"Yes, but..." Rinoa stared at him. "...but..."

"Yearrgh!" An agonized scream sounded out from below, and Squall drew his sword, pushing past Rinoa. True to Squall's suspicion, Seifer came rushing up the stairs. The jacket didn't think twice--without even looking around, the blade swung to point at Rinoa. Seifer paused as fast as if someone had cast Stop on him.

"What are you doing?" the jacket growled, tightening Squall's finger around the trigger of his gunblade. Seifer's gaze flicked from him to Rinoa and back, and his jaw tightened.

Nida came up behind Seifer, skidding to a halt as he saw the scene. "Squall," he started. "What is he making you do?"

"Take one step forward," the jacket said slowly, "and she dies."

"Squall--" Rinoa said.

Squall cocked the gunblade menacingly.

"Did you not expect?" Squall could almost hear his master's voice. "I always triumph."

You can't make me kill... Rinoa... Squall thought, trying to lower the blade. The jacket, as always, was implacable. You can't... make me do this...

"Put the blade down," Seifer said. "Fight someone who can take it."

"I don't think you should be talking, Seifer," Squall said softly, in the dangerous, manipulative tone Dyne used. "Remember the Lunatic Pandora? Remember Ellone? And--"

He paused. There was the slightest sound behind him, one that the jacket immediately interpreted as threat!

And a threat was one thing the jacket would not tolerate.

Pulling the trigger, he heard the sharp retort as his mind screamed to stop it. There was a flash of horror in Nida's eyes--

--something round and hard slammed into the back of his knee, and it buckled as he fell to the ground. Rolling as he fell, he caught a glimpse of Rinoa, right shoulder bleeding heavily, struggling to her feet. He dropped his weapon as a yellowish, leathery hand slammed across his jaw, and he saw stars.

Within seconds Seifer and Nida had grabbed his arms, and a pair of blue arms wrapped around his legs. He opened his mouth to call for the guards, but the leathery hand clamped over it. Rinoa steadied his head, murmuring something like "We'll get you out," and Squall got a glimpse of a blood-slicked hand next to his face. Then the world whirled as he was swept off his feet and found himself suspended by his assailants, seen and unseen.

A dark hole appeared in front of him, and he struggled around enough to see who was holding his legs. The light in the room gleamed off of a pair of huge, blood-red horns and a giant iron mace. Sacred had him held motionless. The hole that had developed was on the other side of the room... Squall could almost feel the jacket measuring his chances.

"Once he dons the jacket, each fighter has Naja's own skill..."

Squall twisted, breaking Nida's grip. His right hand free, he groped for the handle to his gunblade. It closed around the Griever medallion, and he balled his fist and swung at Seifer. The sword swung through the air, dragging across the jacket and showering sparks as it hit the wires. Rinoa's hand darted out to grab it, but there was a sudden glow from the chain and she was thrown backwards. Squall's head dropped, hitting the floor hard as the blade cut across Seifer's cheek.

The serpent engraving? Squall wondered, remembering the carving on the last link. The link that was glowing like a small, angry sun.

"Control him," came a soft voice that Squall recognized as Diablos. A red, muscular hand grasped the blade, pulling it out of his hold. The glow surrounded Diablos' hand, forcing him to drop it. Seifer, cheek bleeding almost as badly as Rinoa's shoulder, grabbed Squall's head and twisted it around, making it so that he couldn't move without sending spears of pain down his back.

The jacket didn't care about pain.

"Dammit!" Seifer yelled. "Nida!"

Nida grabbed Squall's arm again, and Minotaur transferred his hand from Squall's mouth to his shoulder. Sacred tightened his grip as Squall tried to kick, and he got a glimpse of Rinoa on the ground, the last tendrils of blue fire fading from her. A blue streak traced form the chain towards Sacred, and Squall could almost feel Dyne taking a hand in the proceedings from the remote Island Closest to Hell.

There was an oddly familiar noise from behind him, and all three of the GFs paused. A low, rumbling voice called out as the three humans struggled with Squall.

"I warned you not to come near them," Bahamut growled. "I demand--"

"You've been in the core too long," Diablos hissed. "You cannot command us, as you may think you can."

"This? From a fool who has slept in a black hole for generations, while events pass unnoticed with the rest of us? You have no right to judge me!"

Squall ducked out of Seifer's grip, ramming a foot into his shin. Nida somehow got a hold on the back of his jacket, pulling him into a choke grip. His arm tightened around Squall's neck, and he tried to force him down to his knees... only to be sent flying into the wall as Squall flipped him in a basic SeeD self-defense move. Struggling to his feet, he caught a glimpse of the dragon-like GF before he turned to fight Seifer.

"We are not humans, who need aid to protect ourselves. Perhaps your long imprisonment has warped you more than you believe, Bahamut," Diablos said darkly. "We have always been strong enough to rule our own lives. Have you forgotten this in your rage?"

There was silence from the great GF. Then a thunderous roar sounded, and Squall felt something ram into the back of his head. He was crushed against a scaly body, strong arms holding him still. Seifer and Nida took their places at his sides, getting proper holds on his arms. Sacred grabbed his legs again, bearing him towards Diablos's netherworld.

The hole collapsed as they got through, and they pinned him to the floor. Seifer, blood coating his neck, motioned with his hand towards the jacket for a second. "Anyone have the slightest idea how to get this thing off?"

"Gahh," Bahamut snorted. Moving to take Sacred's place, he put a huge foot on Squall's legs. Bending over him, he shifted just enough weight down to keep him on the floor. Then, after a few seconds of inspecting the jacket, he set to work. His claws sheared through the fabric, massive jaws snapping through the wires with no more difficulty. Finally, the last of the jacket fell off.

With a sigh, Seifer pulled himself off the floor. Putting a hand to his cheek, he winced. "That's one more scar."

"Welcome back, Squall," Nida said, getting up stiffly. He seemed to be the only one who had escaped with nothing worse that a blackened eye. Bahamut, with a final snort, disappeared, followed closely by the rest of the Guardian Forces.

Squall opened his mouth to say something, but the removal of the jacket seemed to have some sort of... effect. The world faded as the strength drained out of him, and darkness claimed him.