Author's Note:
"Infelix" is Latin for "Unlucky."

XVI
"We few, we happy few, we brothers
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother..."
--"Henry V"

The last thing Squall saw clearly was Dyne's army thundering down the hillside like a great, black avalanche. The thundering of their feet, flashes of lightning slowly approaching, the first sounds of the clash... then he was engaged in his own battle as the army engulfed him.

The blade he held seemed to sing through the air, slicing, blocking, thrusting, sometimes finding its target, rarely not. It scraped across the armor and was wedged in the cracks at the joints, only to be yanked free and driven through faceplates and breatplates with equal ease. Sustained by fire more potent than any Berserk spell, Squall fought toward Dyne. Naja, rearing next to the Crystal Pillar, was forgotten.

Time passed, that he knew--as to how much he was uncertain. The chaos around him never lessened--he might have spent minutes or hours fighting. He was aware, dimly, of SeeDs falling and rising again, some falling and staying down. The army kept coming--thousands of men who had been forced to fight against their would-be rescuers. On occasion there would be a concussion of light and energy as Dyne detonated one of the suits, or a blinding flash as the energy in one was released in a more controlled fashion. Invariably when one of these things happened, one or more of the combatants would fall and not arise.

And the only indication that any time at all had passed was the thunderstorm, once distant but now raging directly overhead, pelting the scene below with torrents of cold water and lightning whch struck the Crystal Pillar and reflected off its surface as dark streams of energy in turn striking the ground.

Something hard rammed into Squall from the side, and he tumbled into the damp dirt. A huge, black form reared over him--the dragon. Roaring, it swept its streamlined head down to consume him--

Squall swung the blade up, lodging the tip in the top of the thing's mouth and pulling the trigger. Bullets flew into its brain but--wounded yet not defeated--it pulled up. A black ichor flowed from the holes made by the gunblade hits and bullets.

Massive claws came down on the ground next to him with such force that the damp dirt actually splintered, sending sharp rocks leaping around him.

"PAIN pain pain shame," it hissed directly into Squall's mind as it sent him tumbling with a casual sweep of its arm. The voice was low, but smooth. It was as if a Shumi had turned evil--which was, essentialy, what had happened. With a swift cut, Squall gouged a deep slash into its wrist.

Dammit--Dyne, you have to corrupt everything, don't you? he cursed silently. The Shumi-dragon roared, and the massive jaws came down again. A foot came down on Squall as he struggled to his feet, and the jaws came down again--

"It was never meant to be..."

The mind-voice was different: Quezacotl. Infused with sadness, and regret. The GF had appeared behind the dragon, causing it to look around with a glint that resembled releif in its eyes.

"May the cosmos forgive me for my inaction, my friend," the GF continued, lightning beginning to play along his form. "We had never belived that such a thing as the rediscovery of the Centran powers would come to pass. Some things were meant to be buried forever."

The lightning leaped off of Quezacotl, surrounding the dragon with power. The thing roared, convulsing enough to send pain through Squall's ribs as the foot dragged across them. Quezacotl disappeared, leaving Squall to stare at the still-twitching corpse.

Taking a look around, he saw that the battle was slowly turning in their favor. "Their" GFs had joined in the fight, along with several Squall had never seen before. Together, the SeeDs and the GFs were pushing Dyne's forces back!

Squall jumped to his feet, rasing his gunblade to give a crushing blow to the skull of one of the soldiers in front of him. Struggling up the hillside--which by now was almost literally a pile of mud--Squall ignored the rain pelting him and the lightning striking the Pillar just ahead. He could see Dyne, standing near the pillar, watching the proceedings with what looked like panic in his eyes. The path to him was open...

"No!" Dyne yelled, fear making his voice tremble. "It can't be!"

There was a dry, hissing laugh from Naja, who was standing beside him. Squall, slipping in the mud, missed what the GF said, but could hear Dyne's retort clearly through the peal of thunder.

"I cannot lose. Not now!"

Squall narrowed his eyes as a shift in the wind sent rain driving into them. Dyne was so close. Revenge was so close.

Dyne turned to him, masamune appearing in his hand. "Why?" he asked, almost pleadingly. "Why must you challenge me?"

Because if I don't, you'll continue as you have. The world will fall under your yolk.

...that isn't the entire reason.

Dyne stepped backwards so that he almost bumped into the swirling vortex of energy at his back. Squall looked at it critically--if he could just push Dyne into the Pillar, he would be dead. Naja would be free. The troops would stop fighting, and...

Making up his mind, Squall charged. Dyne was ready for him, and their blades met in a shower of sparks.

The world faded out of his view, and suddenly Dyne and the blade clenched in his hands were all that mattered. He knew that no one would think to disturb this fight--it was the battle that might well win or lose the war.

The blades danced around each other, faster than the eye could trace. Sparks flew as the metal clashed, disappearing in the wet air. Squall swung the blade at Dyne's midsection, but a lightning-fast parry saved the sorcerer at the last instant. The masamune hissed like an angry serpent through the air in front of Squall, and he jumped back in time to avoid having his head sliced in two. Feinting with the gunblade, he stepped in for a lethal thrust--

--the masamune slammed into the gunblade point-first, skipping on the metal and lodging several centimeters of its length in Squall's arm. Disregarding the pain, Squall yanked his arm away. The masamune tugged Dyne offbalance for a single second, and Squall brought the gunblade down fast. Dyne rolled away, abandoning his weapon as it fell to the ground to be trampled into the mud. Getting to his feet, covered in mud, Dyne looked... almost pitiable.

...deja vu, Squall thought. The look in Dyne's eyes, however--

--what is he doing? Squall wondered as Dyne held out both hands towards him. Then, in an instant, he found himself lifted into the air and literally thrown off the hill.

Air rushed by him as he fell, and he could see the ground approaching. Powerful winds buffeted him, drawing him back upwards as rain and black lightning assaulted him. He dropped his gunblade somewhere, as he was ripped at by all the fury of the Aero element.

Then he fell.

Half-dazed, he could see the ground coming up at him. Fast. Mud had never looked so hard...

Damn, he thought, trying to twist so he wouldn't land on his face. This is going to hurt...

The breath was driven out of him as he rammed into the hillside, and he almost choked on a mouthful of mud. Pulling himself up, he struggled to his feet again, head ringing, but marveling that nothing was broken. He had landed at the base of the hill, and could still see up to Dyne. The gunblade, almost entirely buried, was nearby.

...what? What is he doing...?

Dyne stood at the peak of the hill, looking down at Squall. Raising a hand, he beconed to Naja.

"How long did you expect this would last, Leonhart?" Dyne shouted through the storm. "You knew it wouldn't be easy. I wonder, however, if you had any conception of what you would be facing here?"

This can't be good, Squall thought, struggling to his gunblade. The hill was actually beginning to slide downward in the constant rain--an avalance of mud.

Dyne was laughing again. It echoed eerily in the air. "I have come to this place for a reason. Witness the creation of a God, my friend."

Squall gripped his gunblade, watching Dyne. Naja, convulsing suddenly, tried to pull away.

"No!" he hissed, looking at Dyne with terror in his eyes. A cold hand seemed to close around Squall's chest--he had a bad, bad feeling about this, somehow--even above and beyind the obvious reasons.

"I will junction myself to Naja," Dyne declared, pulling the GF towards him with the strength of his mind alone. "While I junction him to me..."

What? Squall tried to move up the hill, but something pushed him back. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the GFs disappearing from the battle--fleeing.

"No!" Naja hissed, struggling against Dyne's pull with superhuman effort. "No! You cannot--"

Dyne laughed harder, the infernal light at his back making him look like some sort of demon. "The power of the Crystal Pillar shall unite us," he said. "We shall be one mind, together ruling all we see! Come! You know you crave the power. Come!"

Naja struggled, heaving and thrashing. Squall, unable to do anything, could only watch as Dyne forced Naja into the vortex surrounding the Crystal Pillar--then stepped in himself.

There was a concussion of unimaginable energy, and Squall looked up to see the impossible. Standing in front of the pillar, rearing, was an abomination--a thing with Dyne's torso, head and arms, but a black snake from the waist down. Something flashed in Squall's mind--a breif flash of recognition--and then everything went silent on the battlefield. Dyne's troops simply stopped what they were doing, becoming as motionless as statues.

"They hate me," Dyne murmured, sounding surprised... as if he was a child who had just learned something he couldn't believe. "All of them. They hate me."

Squall planted (or, more accurately, squelched) a foot down in front of him, pulling himself up towards Dyne. The... the thing Dyne had become turned slowly towards him, a look of incredulous shock on his face. "They hate me, and they want to kill me. Even I wanted to... no, even Naja wanted to... no... what has he--what have I done? ...no!"

Squall slipped in the mud, almost falling. Doggedly, he tried to move towards his opponent.

"What have I done?" Dyne bellowed. "...no! It wasn't me! It was..." The figure convulsed.

He's going insane? Squall wondered. Maybe melding with Naja wasn't such a good idea. But it will give me time to kill him.

"NO! Stop it! You'll never get me to... I have to survive! Stop it. Stop it!"

Survive? Squall shook his head silenty, struggling another few steps upwards. Then he stopped.

What am I doing?

...revenge?

What's... happened to me...?

"Lammers! Damn you!" Dyne roared, looking across the field. His eyes held no trace of sanity. "Damn you!"

I can't do this, Squall thought. Not if it's just because I want revenge. I can't... I can't become someone like that.

"I will damn you all!" Dyne ranted, stretching out a hand. Almost in unison, the soldiers dropped their weapons and moved towards Dyne. Emotions ranging from fear to abject terror warred in their eyes.

What is he doing? Squall wondered, looking up at Dyne. Then, as the first soldier was forced into the Pillar with a soulrending scream, Squall realized. Dyne had felt the hatred Naja had harbored for him, and was threatened by it. And to protect himself from the troops he already controlled fully, he was going to kill them all. Take hundreds of innocent lives.

No...

Squall stared at him. He was afraid--afraid to kill him, but afraid of the consequences if he didn't. He didn't want to become someone who killed without thinking, for reasons like revenge. But he knew that if he didn't stop Dyne, the entire army would die.

There was a noise. Rinoa--begging him to do something.

I can't make this kind of a choice...

Then, like a gift from the gods, a figure seemed to materialize out of the rain near the crest of the hill. As it stood up, slowly, the white trenchcoat fell down around it in folds, more capelike than coatlike, billowing in the wind. A silver blade gleamed in its hand.

...Seifer.