Chrono Cross: Through Heaven and Hell
An original fanfiction by Demon-Fighter Ash
based on the Squaresoft game Chrono Cross
Prologue: Beyond the Darkness of Time
Belthasar tumbled endlessly through a twisting abyss of darkness and howling wind, his screams echoing through the void. He snatched vainly at the empty air for something to grab onto, anything to stop the endless stomach-wrenching plunge. The shrieking wind finally began to subside and, somewhere deep within the flickering shadows, he heard human voices echoing and gurgling, the sounds growing louder as a cold white light exploded around him. The old man closed his eyes tight against the blinding glare and suddenly felt solid ground slamming upward into his knees and elbows, throwing him onto his stomach against cold flat rock.
He opened his eyes and looked at the closely-fitted white marble blocks in front of him, realizing after a few bewildered moments that he was looking down at the floor of some sort of plaza. He lifted his head up from the ground, finding himself still crouched on his palms and knees, and looked silently around at the crowds of brightly-dressed people gathered in a circle and staring down at him. Bright shimmering light hurt his eyes and he shook his head, trying to shove himself back onto his feet. He squinted his dark eyes at the crowd and the gleaming fountains of water reflecting bright afternoon sunlight. He looked up at the sky...and his eyes widened as he stared up at the vast plaza, the crowds of staring people and his own purple robes, all reflected in a vast crystal canopy stretching high above the square.
"Where am I," he gasped, still trying to catch his breath, "what is this place?"
The crowds of people just stared at him, even more shocked by his presence than him, and he shook his head again, trying to make sense of the glass sky and bizarre, colorful close-fitting outfits of the people around him, nothing like the loose robes and gold jewelry of his own kingdom.
"I'm from," he panted, "I'm from the kingdom of Zeal. I need to return to the Ocean Palace."
His heart suddenly leapt into his throat as he remembered Schala, screaming in pain as the dark energy of the Mammon Machine consumed her like a flame, the possessed queen staring down at them from atop the gigantic alien beast that their people had called Lavos, just seconds before the black vortex had opened and ripped him through the windswept darkness that had finally dropped him here.
"Listen to me," he called out, his eyes darting between the wide-eyed people, "you have to tell me where I am, there's no time! Schala's in danger, the queen's gone mad, and I have to go back and stop her before our whole kingdom's destroyed! I have to go back!"
"He's one of them," he heard one young woman mutter to her friends in a low trembling voice, "look at his clothes, he has to be one of them. It's happening all over again..."
A group of men in loose black slacks and thick leather jackets raced silently forward through the vast square, darting between the fountains and scattered crowds of staring people, and all of them quickly surrounded the guru, forming a wide circle around him. Each of them dropped onto knee as they took up their positions, each man gripping a large black metal wand with both hands and aiming the hollow tips at the wizened old man. Belthasar stared around in bemusement, then slowly turned toward their leader, a tall dark-haired man wearing a thick square crystal monocle over his left eye. Belthasar suddenly realized that their wands were some kind of weapons, and confusion flickered through his still-scrambed thoughts as he saw their leader's grim face reflecting the same muted fear as the crowd.
"This is Medina Dome," their leader answered in a slow tense voice, his eyes wide as he stared at Belthasar, "you'll need to come with us right now."
"But there's no time for that," Belthasar cried out in exasperation, turning back and forth to stare at the crowd of people and soldiers, "I have to go back to the Ocean Palace! Schala's linked to the mammon machine and if I don't go back, Lavos will awaken and everyone will die!"
The whole crowd gasped in horror at the sentence and even the black-clothed leader seemed to flinch for a moment before quickly hardening his expression and looking back up at Belthasar.
"Sir," he said, staring intently at the guru, "I'm taking you into custody. Come with us and you won't be harmed...but if you try to resist we'll be forced to open fire."
"I'm sorry," he sighed as he lifted one palm toward the general, closing his dark gleaming eyes as he began to focus his thoughts, "but I just don't have time for this...IGNIUS ATRA!"
A spiralling ribbon of black energy swept outward around the old man's purple robes and an orb of twisting shadows quickly wrapped around the group of soldiers kneeling in front of him, suddenly engulfing them and knocking them to the ground. He quickly spread his palms out to either side and invisible blasts buffeted the rest of the soldiers around him. Their guns clattered against the marble and the men tumbled backward against the sweeping waves of cold dark power radiating from the old man.
Belthasar gave a forlorn glance at the fallen soldiers and looked up at the paved plaza and petrified bystanders, briefly noticing other creatures scattered among the crowd--chimeric, almost-human beings that reminded him, more than anything else, of the nus who lived among the floating islands of Zeal. But he didn't have time to worry about either them or the terrified humans right now: somewhere, on the other side of the vortex, Zeal and all its people were being annihilated by Lavos.
He glanced back up at the dome stretching miles above him, the crystal shell still intact; he must have emerged from some spot between the glass ceiling and marble floor. Belthasar quickly realized that he had to get outside, to see the sky and figure out exactly where the vortex had taken him...and then he suddenly dropped to his knees, his dark eyes wide in surprise and thoughts shattered by a sudden burst of scorching pain sweeping through his limbs. A second orb of golden crackling electricity slammed through the air into his chest and he tumbled to the ground, his thoughts fading to darkness.
"You only stunned him," the raven-haired captain asked the soldier who'd fired both shots as the rest of his men picked themselves up from the ground, "right?"
"Yes sir," the younger soldier answered as he tapped a few buttons on the side of his pulse-rifle, the black metal weapon giving a soft hum as its batteries powered down, "that was just a low-voltage airborne charge. He'll regain consciousness in a few hours."
"Good," the captain nodded, "call an airlift and have him taken to Arris Dome's med-clinic at once. We'll examine him for any complications and question him there."
"Sir," the soldier hesitated before suddenly asking, "he's one of them, isn't he? That blue sphere when he appeared, his powers...and he said something about Lavos..."
"It's been almost three hundred years," the black-suited captain answered stiffly, "until we know the whole story, we can't make assumptions. I've given my orders...so move out already!"
The young soldier nodded and jogged forward to catch up with the group already gathered around the old man, and the captain tapped a small button on the side of his digital monocle. A flat glowing image of a blue computer screen suddenly appeared against the inside of the transparent glass lens, seeming to float against the crowded, bustling background. He spoke in a soft whisper, the hidden microphone and voice-recognition devices embedded within the golden frame of the eyepiece picking up his voice.
"Mother Brain," he said quietly as he looked around at the frightened civilians and the soldiers hoisting thier arms beneath the old man's shoulders and carrying him toward the main entrance, "establish a secure uplink to the prime minister, authorization code alpha-317B."
"Captain Tyrel," the pleasant female voice of Mother Brain's artificial-intelligence program answered through the earpiece, "the prime minister is in a priority-three meeting. A clearance level of five or greater is required to override the communication lockout."
"Then override the lockout," he answered the computer, glancing around at the civilians to make sure nobody could hear him before continuing, "level five clearance confirmation 25C-467, and inform the prime minister that," he paused, "inform him that another gate-traveller has arrived."
An original fanfiction by Demon-Fighter Ash
based on the Squaresoft game Chrono Cross
Prologue: Beyond the Darkness of Time
Belthasar tumbled endlessly through a twisting abyss of darkness and howling wind, his screams echoing through the void. He snatched vainly at the empty air for something to grab onto, anything to stop the endless stomach-wrenching plunge. The shrieking wind finally began to subside and, somewhere deep within the flickering shadows, he heard human voices echoing and gurgling, the sounds growing louder as a cold white light exploded around him. The old man closed his eyes tight against the blinding glare and suddenly felt solid ground slamming upward into his knees and elbows, throwing him onto his stomach against cold flat rock.
He opened his eyes and looked at the closely-fitted white marble blocks in front of him, realizing after a few bewildered moments that he was looking down at the floor of some sort of plaza. He lifted his head up from the ground, finding himself still crouched on his palms and knees, and looked silently around at the crowds of brightly-dressed people gathered in a circle and staring down at him. Bright shimmering light hurt his eyes and he shook his head, trying to shove himself back onto his feet. He squinted his dark eyes at the crowd and the gleaming fountains of water reflecting bright afternoon sunlight. He looked up at the sky...and his eyes widened as he stared up at the vast plaza, the crowds of staring people and his own purple robes, all reflected in a vast crystal canopy stretching high above the square.
"Where am I," he gasped, still trying to catch his breath, "what is this place?"
The crowds of people just stared at him, even more shocked by his presence than him, and he shook his head again, trying to make sense of the glass sky and bizarre, colorful close-fitting outfits of the people around him, nothing like the loose robes and gold jewelry of his own kingdom.
"I'm from," he panted, "I'm from the kingdom of Zeal. I need to return to the Ocean Palace."
His heart suddenly leapt into his throat as he remembered Schala, screaming in pain as the dark energy of the Mammon Machine consumed her like a flame, the possessed queen staring down at them from atop the gigantic alien beast that their people had called Lavos, just seconds before the black vortex had opened and ripped him through the windswept darkness that had finally dropped him here.
"Listen to me," he called out, his eyes darting between the wide-eyed people, "you have to tell me where I am, there's no time! Schala's in danger, the queen's gone mad, and I have to go back and stop her before our whole kingdom's destroyed! I have to go back!"
"He's one of them," he heard one young woman mutter to her friends in a low trembling voice, "look at his clothes, he has to be one of them. It's happening all over again..."
A group of men in loose black slacks and thick leather jackets raced silently forward through the vast square, darting between the fountains and scattered crowds of staring people, and all of them quickly surrounded the guru, forming a wide circle around him. Each of them dropped onto knee as they took up their positions, each man gripping a large black metal wand with both hands and aiming the hollow tips at the wizened old man. Belthasar stared around in bemusement, then slowly turned toward their leader, a tall dark-haired man wearing a thick square crystal monocle over his left eye. Belthasar suddenly realized that their wands were some kind of weapons, and confusion flickered through his still-scrambed thoughts as he saw their leader's grim face reflecting the same muted fear as the crowd.
"This is Medina Dome," their leader answered in a slow tense voice, his eyes wide as he stared at Belthasar, "you'll need to come with us right now."
"But there's no time for that," Belthasar cried out in exasperation, turning back and forth to stare at the crowd of people and soldiers, "I have to go back to the Ocean Palace! Schala's linked to the mammon machine and if I don't go back, Lavos will awaken and everyone will die!"
The whole crowd gasped in horror at the sentence and even the black-clothed leader seemed to flinch for a moment before quickly hardening his expression and looking back up at Belthasar.
"Sir," he said, staring intently at the guru, "I'm taking you into custody. Come with us and you won't be harmed...but if you try to resist we'll be forced to open fire."
"I'm sorry," he sighed as he lifted one palm toward the general, closing his dark gleaming eyes as he began to focus his thoughts, "but I just don't have time for this...IGNIUS ATRA!"
A spiralling ribbon of black energy swept outward around the old man's purple robes and an orb of twisting shadows quickly wrapped around the group of soldiers kneeling in front of him, suddenly engulfing them and knocking them to the ground. He quickly spread his palms out to either side and invisible blasts buffeted the rest of the soldiers around him. Their guns clattered against the marble and the men tumbled backward against the sweeping waves of cold dark power radiating from the old man.
Belthasar gave a forlorn glance at the fallen soldiers and looked up at the paved plaza and petrified bystanders, briefly noticing other creatures scattered among the crowd--chimeric, almost-human beings that reminded him, more than anything else, of the nus who lived among the floating islands of Zeal. But he didn't have time to worry about either them or the terrified humans right now: somewhere, on the other side of the vortex, Zeal and all its people were being annihilated by Lavos.
He glanced back up at the dome stretching miles above him, the crystal shell still intact; he must have emerged from some spot between the glass ceiling and marble floor. Belthasar quickly realized that he had to get outside, to see the sky and figure out exactly where the vortex had taken him...and then he suddenly dropped to his knees, his dark eyes wide in surprise and thoughts shattered by a sudden burst of scorching pain sweeping through his limbs. A second orb of golden crackling electricity slammed through the air into his chest and he tumbled to the ground, his thoughts fading to darkness.
"You only stunned him," the raven-haired captain asked the soldier who'd fired both shots as the rest of his men picked themselves up from the ground, "right?"
"Yes sir," the younger soldier answered as he tapped a few buttons on the side of his pulse-rifle, the black metal weapon giving a soft hum as its batteries powered down, "that was just a low-voltage airborne charge. He'll regain consciousness in a few hours."
"Good," the captain nodded, "call an airlift and have him taken to Arris Dome's med-clinic at once. We'll examine him for any complications and question him there."
"Sir," the soldier hesitated before suddenly asking, "he's one of them, isn't he? That blue sphere when he appeared, his powers...and he said something about Lavos..."
"It's been almost three hundred years," the black-suited captain answered stiffly, "until we know the whole story, we can't make assumptions. I've given my orders...so move out already!"
The young soldier nodded and jogged forward to catch up with the group already gathered around the old man, and the captain tapped a small button on the side of his digital monocle. A flat glowing image of a blue computer screen suddenly appeared against the inside of the transparent glass lens, seeming to float against the crowded, bustling background. He spoke in a soft whisper, the hidden microphone and voice-recognition devices embedded within the golden frame of the eyepiece picking up his voice.
"Mother Brain," he said quietly as he looked around at the frightened civilians and the soldiers hoisting thier arms beneath the old man's shoulders and carrying him toward the main entrance, "establish a secure uplink to the prime minister, authorization code alpha-317B."
"Captain Tyrel," the pleasant female voice of Mother Brain's artificial-intelligence program answered through the earpiece, "the prime minister is in a priority-three meeting. A clearance level of five or greater is required to override the communication lockout."
"Then override the lockout," he answered the computer, glancing around at the civilians to make sure nobody could hear him before continuing, "level five clearance confirmation 25C-467, and inform the prime minister that," he paused, "inform him that another gate-traveller has arrived."