(AN: I don't own any of the Capcom characters. I do, however, own Square,
Eidos, Electronic Arts, and Konami. None of these groups will admit it, but
trust me. Use my characters if you ask first, m'kay. Oh, and if it's for
lemon...I probably will say no...Sorry, ladies and gents.
Random Guy(is still in a body cast): Who would want to write lemons about YOUR characters?
Enjoy the show. Excuse me...
Random Guy: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!)
Chapter 9: The Dragon's Lair
"Ah, for Chrissakes, it's noon already..." he muttered. Slate had been standing outside of Night's quarters in full armor for two hours, and the wait was starting to get to him. The bill of his helmet was pulled low, covering his eyes, which were ticking to the beat of his internal clock. "I hate waiting, and that's all I've done for that rook...That's it. I'm coming in!"
Night barely moved as his door was kicked in, his face firmly planted in a pillow. His right side was hanging off of the bed and his left was clutching the mattress for dear life. His silver hair covered most of his torso like a blanket, and that seemed to be all the cover he had at the moment. Either snoring or rambling came at odd intervals, muffled by the pillow. Night was more than in stasis. Night was out cold.
Slate grumbled to him self once again, staring down at the sight before him. "Jeez...what a slob! And I thought I was a heavy sleeper...Wakey, wakey, kid!" After there was no response, he stepped closer. He tried shaking the snoring statue, but to no effect. "Hey, rookie, get your goddamn ass outta bed!!!"
Night stirred for a moment, his hanging side flailing to regain its precarious balance. Rubbing his cheek against the pillow, a smile crept onto Night's face: he was deeper into stasis mode. "Nnngh...mmph...dnn cull mmph lfff...Bunny..." Holding his pillow in a death grip, his smile was broken by a fit of snoring, and as suddenly as he moved, he was still again.
"Oh, goddamn it all...Alia!" He slammed his fist into his comm, wincing a little in painful regret as he did. "Slate here! Boss, I'm losing patience with him..."
The voice on the other side was less than pleased. "Do you have any freakin' clue how loud that comm beep is?! I'm trying to meditate, dammit!"
Slate felt his reserves of calm fading fast, but took a deep breath and continued. "Alia, I can't get that godawful rookie of yours out of stasis! I can't do my job if the brat's in Z land, now can I?"
"What do I look like, his mother? Oh, for Pete's....Fine, bring the comm up to his ear. I swear to God, for my only active unit commander, you're pretty damn helpless..."
"This isn't my job!" he cried.
"Didn't I give you an order, Hunter?!" Almost diving at the peacefully resting Night, Slate brought his arm up to Night's face. He stood there a second, trying to hold back the desire to punch Night in the face as he felt his arm grabbed and nuzzled by the sleeping reploid. However, Alia cut in before disaster could strike.
"Oh, Night...Night...Kid...GET UP! GET YOUR LAZY ASS OUT OF THAT GODDAMN BED RIGHT NOW, DO YOU HEAR ME?!! IF YOU DON'T WAKE YOUR SORRY ASS UP IN THE NEXT TWO SECONDS, I'M GONNA TURN YOUR BEHIND INTO A TRASH CAN!!!"
Night smiled and rubbed his eyes. He rolled over at a casual pace, putting his arms behind his head. "Oh...morning, Alia."
"There, I've done it! Now leave me the hell alone!" The comm then cut to static, eventually fizzling out entirely. Slate turned off his end, his cocky smile back in full form. Night shook his head.
"Damn...she must've broke her comm again...Douglas's gonna shit a brick."
Night turned his head to the side, blowing some of the hair from his face. "Eh. Screw Douglas. He still hasn't fitted my new clothes with my warp specs yet...What the hell're you doing here anyway, bunny ears? I'm not exactly decent..." A voice cut Slate off before he could speak.
"I'll say...you ARE a cutie!! Decent is NOT the word, luv!" The two reploids looked to the door to find an unwelcome sight leaning in the doorframe, her face a burning red.
Night made a mad dash for the other side of the covers. "SERRAEL?!! Aw, shit!! Get out of here! Where's my damn door?! Turn around, goddammit!!! What the HELL are grinning at?! Who kicked down my door?!!"
"Don't be ashamed of what the good Lord made, Nighty. Definitely... Ta-ta." With cheeks still redder than a hot furnace, Serrael waved and walked out, giggling as she went.
Slate managed to stop himself from laughing a few minutes later. There was on odd grin on his face, and his helmet was back in its low position, blocking his eyes. It lent more of a devious appearance than anything else. "Hey, rook... methink she likey, no?...And since you're, uh...equipped for the job, maybe you can get a little-"
"OUT!!!! NOW!!!" Night yelled, pointing at the lack of a door.
"Fine, fine...sheesh. Some guys would like a hot chick complimenting the hardware...But, remember, you've got 20 minutes! Then meet me in the training center!" Then he was gone.
"Goddamn sorry little no-good piece of..." Night skulked off to the cafeteria, his armor on and his blades flashing in and out at random. There were many dangers in the Hunter life, and the new recruits soon learned that most of them were in their hallways.
_____________________________________________________________
"Ok. Now, what the hell did you want to meet me for?" Night said, after a quick breakfast. His mood hadn't fully improved, and the rumor mill apparently was VERY fast among the female Hunters, both human and reploid. Suffice it to say, he wasn't very cheerful.
"Relax, rook. I've got orders to teach you how to use that nice suit of yours. It's powerful, but you're greener than envy." Slate had pulled off his helmet, opting for a white bandanna. Apparently, the sides of his helmet were for more than show, as his long green-scaled ears were now in plain sight. His dark green hair fell down to the top of his shoulders, blending in with his armor.
"What? I don't need training. I've taken down two Mavs already, haven't I?" Night said. A smirk was on his face and his arms were crossed. "Besides, I'm not going out there again."
Slate shook his head and sighed. "Rookie...You must be slow or something!"
"Come again?"
"Let's go down the tally, shall we? First big fight, you got beat within an inch of your life, and at the last minute, you get pretty freakin' lucky!" Slate held up one finger, frowning as he went on. "Next, you get beat within point zero zero zero zero zero ONE inches of your life, and your opponent was only knocked out for a minute by your last ditch stunt." He raised a second finger. "Next time, whether you want to fight or not, your ass is so much scrap metal. So, it's up to me to teach you how to actually NOT get the shit beat out of you! Any questions?"
Night nodded, recovering from the cowed look on his face from the truthful description of his record. "Just one. How is some bunny eared greenhorn gonna teach me how to fight?"
"DRAGON EARS!!!!"
"Yeah, whatever. But you haven't answered my question."
Night watched as Slate's glare turned into a dangerous grin. He walked over to one wall of the bare room and picked up a thin metal cylinder. Tossing it up and down in his hands, he walked along the wall back towards Night, the smile still firmly planted on his face.
"Um, Slate..."
Without a word, Slate hurled the cylinder at Night with all of his strength. In midair, it expanded to an arm's length and began to spin rapidly, rushing towards Night. Out of instinct, Night dashed aside, feeling a breeze as the staff whirled past.
"WHAT THE-"
Slate smiled, watching the staff fly by. "So you can NOT get hit by everything! Good! Lesson One's dodging, by the way."
"You sadistic son of a- AAH!" Night felt something slam into his back, knocking him into the floor. The staff whirled by in a lazy arc, landing softly in Slate's outstretched hand. He was laughing harder than ever as the staff retracted to its former size.
"Slate's Rule One: Watch your ass! Example courtesy of my Dragon Tail! Now, get up!" By the time Night was on his knees, Slate tossed the Tail again. As he saw it approach, Night launched himself into the air.
"Activate Training Sim 1!" Slate cried, cackling as he spoke!
As Night continued upwards, he found his head coming into firm contact with a platform. "Owww!" As he fell, the Tail made its return, slapping his sensitive head as it passed. To his credit, Night managed to land on his feet, rubbing his head with a murderous look in his eyes. Looking around, the training center had changed into a cave, lit by a green crystal. Platforms were appearing and disappearing at random all around him. "Where the hell did that come from?!"
"Slate Rule Two, rookie! Use your environment!" Slate yelled. He threw the Tail again, just as a high wall appeared behind Night. Before the Tail could hit, however, Night was airborne again, grabbing the top of the wall with his armor's claws. He cheered as it bounced harmlessly off of the wall, returning to its master. "Ha! Take that, you maniac!" Unfortunately, he didn't see the second Tail coming straight up for him. When he tried to kick off of the wall, it disappeared, leaving him to take another hit and plummet. This time, he wasn't so lucky and face-planted. Pulling himself into a kneel, Night spat random curses in a variety of languages. "I'm gonna rip out your goddamn throat!"
"Uh, uh, uh! Slate Rules 3 and 4: Cheaters always prosper, and don't piss off the guy with the Dragon Tails!" Slate ran forward, a Tail in each hand, his grin turning into a frown of concentration. Night was on his feet in an instant, dashing backwards as fast as he could. Slate kept the pace with a lunge, swinging a Tail forward. Night dashed with his other leg, continuing his retreat. As quickly as Night could dash away, Slate kept pace, his Tails lashing out at every chance. "How are you so damn fast?!" Night yelled, as he jumped to the side of an overhead slash, only to dash away from a thrust from Slate's other hand. He stopped himself before he hit a new wall, and jumped onto a platform, with Slate in hot pursuit.
"Shut up and dodge! Slate Rule 5: Concentrate, dammit!" The sparring match ran on for a while, Night dashing out of danger as Slate pursued, running and jumping from platform to platform as fast as Night could dash. The time sped by as they fell into a rhythm. Slate still scored the occasional blow, but those hits became fewer and fewer over time. After the first hour, they were both panting, low on energy, but no one asked for the match to stop. Slate soon began to dash as well, faster than Night, but lacking the double use, he could only catch up for a moment before being outpaced as his thrusters took that short second to recharge. "You're getting it, kid!" Slate yelled.
"And you hop fast, Bunny Boy!" Night threw back. Enraged by the remark, Slate threw both Tails at once. Night dodged both, but, to his surprise and confusion, they followed him almost instantly. For the next few minutes, he found himself unable to stop, with the two whirling poles bearing in on him. Slate fell to the ground, breathing heavily, but having trouble breathing from the laughter that threatened to choke him. Hearing this, Night suddenly used a double dash, pulling himself ahead, then activated his new Fire Strike, giving himself a wide gap. Turning, he stared down the approaching Tails, and did the last thing Slate expected. He turned on his blades and chopped each Tail in half. Slate jumped to his feet, hissing in obvious pain. "What the hell?! That's not-"
"Night Rule number 1: Your goddamned rules don't apply!" Night charged for Slate, letting his blades die, his hands balled into fists. "It's your turn!" Slate's grin returned as Night came closer. At the last moment, Slate tossed aside his bandana to reveal a familiar, smiling face, his green spikes replaced by a long blond ponytail. Night stopped on a dime, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Sol?!"
Just then, Sol's soft smile turned in the devil's own grin, fangs and all. He ran forward, landing a firm punch into Night's gut. Without missing a beat, a roundhouse kick sent his victim flying to a wall, headfirst. Slate's laughter came from Sol's mouth as his features returned, down to his green hair. "Slate's Laaaaast Rule: I don't give a damn what happens, never let up. Never. Get some sleep, and take a shower, for god sakes." With a backwards wave, he marched towards the door. "One downside of being a total rep like us is that we work up one hell of a sweat! The upside is the way to work it!" The automatic door slammed behind him, leaving Night alone and very much in pain.
Night groaned to himself, a look of sheer violence on his face. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch...But, first..." And then everything went dark.
From her perch on the roof, Serrael applauded.
"Good work, cutie. You've got potential...But it's not enough, not yet."
_____________________________________________________________
Things had been subdued at the Angel's Base since the station attack, and things weren't looking to improve. The wall screen lay silent in disuse. Those within spoke in hushed tones, except for the occasional giggling from that shadowed corner that two of the Archangels permanently occupied. Some things never change. Not even they could be brought down by the constant brooding of their leader.
"Two days...Two days, she's been gone!" Father yelled, to no one in particular. Those brave enough to stay in the area were clearing out as they sensed the storm coming. Only the six remaining Archangels remained.
Rena sat at her perch on her giant protector's shoulder, a look of worry on her face. "What's eatin' Daddy, Brand?" she asked. Brand sighed, drooping his shoulders. She barely managed to hug his neck before falling.
"It's Serrael. She's been gone for a while. It's natural that he's concerned. She is his true daughter, after all." Rena frowned at this, hugging Brand's neck a little tighter.
"Wish Daddy was my real Daddy..." she muttered. After a few moments, she shrugged and slid down Brand's arm, leaping to the floor. "Ah, fuck all this moody shit...I'm watching cartoons in my room!!! Come on, ya big lug!" Dragging him by one finger, she pulled him out of the den, her childlike nature shifting to her actual self. James watched them leave, one eye still boring into his tattered Bible.
"God bless the child; her mind is fractured..." he said, turning a page. "Reminds me of a passage...Spare the rod and spoil the child. Now, where was that-"
"LEAVE!!!" Father screamed, pointing at James. He was still staring at the blank screen, but the look on his face unmistakable and demanded obedience. "By God, everything reminds you of a SCRIPTURE! God himself doesn't read the book as much. Get out of my sight."
With a quick nod, James strode off at a fast pace for the door. "Zealous prick..." Father muttered.
"I hear you. Want a little...distraction?" Mara sat on Father's lap, tracing the lines of his suit with her finger. "Now...does this armor have a button somewhere-" As her hand dropped lower, Father stood bolt upright, dropping her to the floor.(AN: Literally, you sick pervs...) "Ow! I'm not usually into the rough stuff, but if you want it that-"
"Shut up, you insufferable slut! It's bad enough that you've got my son in your claws, now you're seducing ME? I created you, you whore!"
"Geez...I can take a hint, Gramps..." In a flash of purple light, she was gone.
"All of my generals are insane..." he muttered, heading for the door.
"Like father, like son, eh, Daddy?" The screen flickered to life. Father turned to look up at his daughter's face. Though she was smiling, he had the feeling that good news wasn't coming.
"My Angel...where are you?!" he said.
"Don't you know, Daddy? Oh, that's right, I found your little tracer and turned it off."
"How did you-"
"Gee, Daddy. You raise a girl to hack, and you don't think she can handle a little bug? Tsk, tsk." Her smile was fading fast, and Father was starting to get nervous.
"I want you come home immediately. The Hunters are searching for us, and they know your face-"
"A little edit here, a little change there, and I'm out of that little test transmission. Besides, I'm not coming home until you see reason."
"REASON?!! What are you-"
"Can it, already. I heard you and Master. What did you call Nadia...a useless pacifist?! He's changed you! I'm not coming home until you stop being a fool and sent Master back under his rock! Till then-"
"Serry, wait!"
"Buh-bye!" The screen turned itself off. That didn't stop Father from punching the screen, shattering it in a single blow. The den's door seemed to slam behind him as walked out, screaming at the top of his lungs. "RENA!!!"
_____________________________________________________________
Night found himself back in the training facility, though one couldn't tell by looking at it. The walls of steel had been replaced by a large dome of stone. The place was lighted by a green crystal above. For the last hour, Night had been in the middle of a saber fight. He would have been in a hundred pieces if they weren't just using stun sticks, and even then, he felt like he was vibrating. Slate didn't know the meaning of slow down, and Night was getting angrier by the second.
"Dammit, I'm not a saber fighter!" Night yelled. Using his longer stick like a spear, Slate got another hit into Night's leg.
"This isn't about sabers! It's about instincts! Keep your guard up, for chrissakes!" As he spoke, he let loose with a twirling hit that slapped Night right in the face. "Though I admit, this is really fun!"
"Shut up!" Night charged forward, sword upraised. He slashed downward, adding a dash boost to the strike. Slate just ducked under it, thrusting his stun stick into Night's chin, followed by a rapid series of jabs. Night went down.
"Slate Rule...well, one of 'em, anyhoo: Save your finisher for the finish!" Slate said, walking towards the door. "Meet me in the caf once you can move!" With a wave of his hand, the cave faded back into the bare cube it was. "Till next time, rook!"
Slate walked through the open door, only to bump into something. *Something soft,* he noted. He found himself face to face Serrael, the look on her face not a happy one. His ever-present grin grew a little wider as he realized was he was still brushed up against. "Fancy meeting you here, babe!"
She simply smiled her biggest smile, put her hands in his shoulders, and watched the expression on his face as her knee shot upwards. Pushing aside his crumpled form, she walked over him to Night. "So he does have one...Guess every wanker does...Hentai."
Night was cackling as hard as he could, ignoring the pain in his chest from his recent training. He barely managed to sit up as it was. The painfully loud chime of his comm broke his humor.
"Night, this is Alia! GDAir just had most of their silent alarms tripped. Strange thing is, no one seems to be responding from the base. Something bad is happening, I can feel it."
"Father..." Serrael said. Her voice was subdued, something Night had never heard from the girl.
"What's that new girl doing there?" Alia asked.
"Never mind that! Can't you send Slate on this? If there's a Mav, he's obviously more prepared for it!" he said. "There's enough voltage running through me to light a city, right now...I'm not X. I can't just run in and hope for the best!"
There was silence from the other end for a long moment. "You're right. I can't expect you to be another X." Another long pause. "Sit this one out. You need the rest. Alia out."
"Well, my asshole title is safe for now..." Night fell back to the floor. He felt a breeze blow by and opened his eyes to see a green light flash and Serrael disappear. "Aw, shit..." A second later, the training area was empty.
(Well, there goes my chapter. This one was fun to write. Hope you all enjoyed it, especially all of my lovable reviewers! Imp-chan, xxshadowxx, and all the others, keep it coming! I'll try to crank it out a little faster, but don't hold your breath...All I can say about the future is that things are about to line themselves up for the big fight. Till then...See you, space cowboys.)
Random Guy(is still in a body cast): Who would want to write lemons about YOUR characters?
Enjoy the show. Excuse me...
Random Guy: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!)
Chapter 9: The Dragon's Lair
"Ah, for Chrissakes, it's noon already..." he muttered. Slate had been standing outside of Night's quarters in full armor for two hours, and the wait was starting to get to him. The bill of his helmet was pulled low, covering his eyes, which were ticking to the beat of his internal clock. "I hate waiting, and that's all I've done for that rook...That's it. I'm coming in!"
Night barely moved as his door was kicked in, his face firmly planted in a pillow. His right side was hanging off of the bed and his left was clutching the mattress for dear life. His silver hair covered most of his torso like a blanket, and that seemed to be all the cover he had at the moment. Either snoring or rambling came at odd intervals, muffled by the pillow. Night was more than in stasis. Night was out cold.
Slate grumbled to him self once again, staring down at the sight before him. "Jeez...what a slob! And I thought I was a heavy sleeper...Wakey, wakey, kid!" After there was no response, he stepped closer. He tried shaking the snoring statue, but to no effect. "Hey, rookie, get your goddamn ass outta bed!!!"
Night stirred for a moment, his hanging side flailing to regain its precarious balance. Rubbing his cheek against the pillow, a smile crept onto Night's face: he was deeper into stasis mode. "Nnngh...mmph...dnn cull mmph lfff...Bunny..." Holding his pillow in a death grip, his smile was broken by a fit of snoring, and as suddenly as he moved, he was still again.
"Oh, goddamn it all...Alia!" He slammed his fist into his comm, wincing a little in painful regret as he did. "Slate here! Boss, I'm losing patience with him..."
The voice on the other side was less than pleased. "Do you have any freakin' clue how loud that comm beep is?! I'm trying to meditate, dammit!"
Slate felt his reserves of calm fading fast, but took a deep breath and continued. "Alia, I can't get that godawful rookie of yours out of stasis! I can't do my job if the brat's in Z land, now can I?"
"What do I look like, his mother? Oh, for Pete's....Fine, bring the comm up to his ear. I swear to God, for my only active unit commander, you're pretty damn helpless..."
"This isn't my job!" he cried.
"Didn't I give you an order, Hunter?!" Almost diving at the peacefully resting Night, Slate brought his arm up to Night's face. He stood there a second, trying to hold back the desire to punch Night in the face as he felt his arm grabbed and nuzzled by the sleeping reploid. However, Alia cut in before disaster could strike.
"Oh, Night...Night...Kid...GET UP! GET YOUR LAZY ASS OUT OF THAT GODDAMN BED RIGHT NOW, DO YOU HEAR ME?!! IF YOU DON'T WAKE YOUR SORRY ASS UP IN THE NEXT TWO SECONDS, I'M GONNA TURN YOUR BEHIND INTO A TRASH CAN!!!"
Night smiled and rubbed his eyes. He rolled over at a casual pace, putting his arms behind his head. "Oh...morning, Alia."
"There, I've done it! Now leave me the hell alone!" The comm then cut to static, eventually fizzling out entirely. Slate turned off his end, his cocky smile back in full form. Night shook his head.
"Damn...she must've broke her comm again...Douglas's gonna shit a brick."
Night turned his head to the side, blowing some of the hair from his face. "Eh. Screw Douglas. He still hasn't fitted my new clothes with my warp specs yet...What the hell're you doing here anyway, bunny ears? I'm not exactly decent..." A voice cut Slate off before he could speak.
"I'll say...you ARE a cutie!! Decent is NOT the word, luv!" The two reploids looked to the door to find an unwelcome sight leaning in the doorframe, her face a burning red.
Night made a mad dash for the other side of the covers. "SERRAEL?!! Aw, shit!! Get out of here! Where's my damn door?! Turn around, goddammit!!! What the HELL are grinning at?! Who kicked down my door?!!"
"Don't be ashamed of what the good Lord made, Nighty. Definitely... Ta-ta." With cheeks still redder than a hot furnace, Serrael waved and walked out, giggling as she went.
Slate managed to stop himself from laughing a few minutes later. There was on odd grin on his face, and his helmet was back in its low position, blocking his eyes. It lent more of a devious appearance than anything else. "Hey, rook... methink she likey, no?...And since you're, uh...equipped for the job, maybe you can get a little-"
"OUT!!!! NOW!!!" Night yelled, pointing at the lack of a door.
"Fine, fine...sheesh. Some guys would like a hot chick complimenting the hardware...But, remember, you've got 20 minutes! Then meet me in the training center!" Then he was gone.
"Goddamn sorry little no-good piece of..." Night skulked off to the cafeteria, his armor on and his blades flashing in and out at random. There were many dangers in the Hunter life, and the new recruits soon learned that most of them were in their hallways.
_____________________________________________________________
"Ok. Now, what the hell did you want to meet me for?" Night said, after a quick breakfast. His mood hadn't fully improved, and the rumor mill apparently was VERY fast among the female Hunters, both human and reploid. Suffice it to say, he wasn't very cheerful.
"Relax, rook. I've got orders to teach you how to use that nice suit of yours. It's powerful, but you're greener than envy." Slate had pulled off his helmet, opting for a white bandanna. Apparently, the sides of his helmet were for more than show, as his long green-scaled ears were now in plain sight. His dark green hair fell down to the top of his shoulders, blending in with his armor.
"What? I don't need training. I've taken down two Mavs already, haven't I?" Night said. A smirk was on his face and his arms were crossed. "Besides, I'm not going out there again."
Slate shook his head and sighed. "Rookie...You must be slow or something!"
"Come again?"
"Let's go down the tally, shall we? First big fight, you got beat within an inch of your life, and at the last minute, you get pretty freakin' lucky!" Slate held up one finger, frowning as he went on. "Next, you get beat within point zero zero zero zero zero ONE inches of your life, and your opponent was only knocked out for a minute by your last ditch stunt." He raised a second finger. "Next time, whether you want to fight or not, your ass is so much scrap metal. So, it's up to me to teach you how to actually NOT get the shit beat out of you! Any questions?"
Night nodded, recovering from the cowed look on his face from the truthful description of his record. "Just one. How is some bunny eared greenhorn gonna teach me how to fight?"
"DRAGON EARS!!!!"
"Yeah, whatever. But you haven't answered my question."
Night watched as Slate's glare turned into a dangerous grin. He walked over to one wall of the bare room and picked up a thin metal cylinder. Tossing it up and down in his hands, he walked along the wall back towards Night, the smile still firmly planted on his face.
"Um, Slate..."
Without a word, Slate hurled the cylinder at Night with all of his strength. In midair, it expanded to an arm's length and began to spin rapidly, rushing towards Night. Out of instinct, Night dashed aside, feeling a breeze as the staff whirled past.
"WHAT THE-"
Slate smiled, watching the staff fly by. "So you can NOT get hit by everything! Good! Lesson One's dodging, by the way."
"You sadistic son of a- AAH!" Night felt something slam into his back, knocking him into the floor. The staff whirled by in a lazy arc, landing softly in Slate's outstretched hand. He was laughing harder than ever as the staff retracted to its former size.
"Slate's Rule One: Watch your ass! Example courtesy of my Dragon Tail! Now, get up!" By the time Night was on his knees, Slate tossed the Tail again. As he saw it approach, Night launched himself into the air.
"Activate Training Sim 1!" Slate cried, cackling as he spoke!
As Night continued upwards, he found his head coming into firm contact with a platform. "Owww!" As he fell, the Tail made its return, slapping his sensitive head as it passed. To his credit, Night managed to land on his feet, rubbing his head with a murderous look in his eyes. Looking around, the training center had changed into a cave, lit by a green crystal. Platforms were appearing and disappearing at random all around him. "Where the hell did that come from?!"
"Slate Rule Two, rookie! Use your environment!" Slate yelled. He threw the Tail again, just as a high wall appeared behind Night. Before the Tail could hit, however, Night was airborne again, grabbing the top of the wall with his armor's claws. He cheered as it bounced harmlessly off of the wall, returning to its master. "Ha! Take that, you maniac!" Unfortunately, he didn't see the second Tail coming straight up for him. When he tried to kick off of the wall, it disappeared, leaving him to take another hit and plummet. This time, he wasn't so lucky and face-planted. Pulling himself into a kneel, Night spat random curses in a variety of languages. "I'm gonna rip out your goddamn throat!"
"Uh, uh, uh! Slate Rules 3 and 4: Cheaters always prosper, and don't piss off the guy with the Dragon Tails!" Slate ran forward, a Tail in each hand, his grin turning into a frown of concentration. Night was on his feet in an instant, dashing backwards as fast as he could. Slate kept the pace with a lunge, swinging a Tail forward. Night dashed with his other leg, continuing his retreat. As quickly as Night could dash away, Slate kept pace, his Tails lashing out at every chance. "How are you so damn fast?!" Night yelled, as he jumped to the side of an overhead slash, only to dash away from a thrust from Slate's other hand. He stopped himself before he hit a new wall, and jumped onto a platform, with Slate in hot pursuit.
"Shut up and dodge! Slate Rule 5: Concentrate, dammit!" The sparring match ran on for a while, Night dashing out of danger as Slate pursued, running and jumping from platform to platform as fast as Night could dash. The time sped by as they fell into a rhythm. Slate still scored the occasional blow, but those hits became fewer and fewer over time. After the first hour, they were both panting, low on energy, but no one asked for the match to stop. Slate soon began to dash as well, faster than Night, but lacking the double use, he could only catch up for a moment before being outpaced as his thrusters took that short second to recharge. "You're getting it, kid!" Slate yelled.
"And you hop fast, Bunny Boy!" Night threw back. Enraged by the remark, Slate threw both Tails at once. Night dodged both, but, to his surprise and confusion, they followed him almost instantly. For the next few minutes, he found himself unable to stop, with the two whirling poles bearing in on him. Slate fell to the ground, breathing heavily, but having trouble breathing from the laughter that threatened to choke him. Hearing this, Night suddenly used a double dash, pulling himself ahead, then activated his new Fire Strike, giving himself a wide gap. Turning, he stared down the approaching Tails, and did the last thing Slate expected. He turned on his blades and chopped each Tail in half. Slate jumped to his feet, hissing in obvious pain. "What the hell?! That's not-"
"Night Rule number 1: Your goddamned rules don't apply!" Night charged for Slate, letting his blades die, his hands balled into fists. "It's your turn!" Slate's grin returned as Night came closer. At the last moment, Slate tossed aside his bandana to reveal a familiar, smiling face, his green spikes replaced by a long blond ponytail. Night stopped on a dime, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Sol?!"
Just then, Sol's soft smile turned in the devil's own grin, fangs and all. He ran forward, landing a firm punch into Night's gut. Without missing a beat, a roundhouse kick sent his victim flying to a wall, headfirst. Slate's laughter came from Sol's mouth as his features returned, down to his green hair. "Slate's Laaaaast Rule: I don't give a damn what happens, never let up. Never. Get some sleep, and take a shower, for god sakes." With a backwards wave, he marched towards the door. "One downside of being a total rep like us is that we work up one hell of a sweat! The upside is the way to work it!" The automatic door slammed behind him, leaving Night alone and very much in pain.
Night groaned to himself, a look of sheer violence on his face. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch...But, first..." And then everything went dark.
From her perch on the roof, Serrael applauded.
"Good work, cutie. You've got potential...But it's not enough, not yet."
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Things had been subdued at the Angel's Base since the station attack, and things weren't looking to improve. The wall screen lay silent in disuse. Those within spoke in hushed tones, except for the occasional giggling from that shadowed corner that two of the Archangels permanently occupied. Some things never change. Not even they could be brought down by the constant brooding of their leader.
"Two days...Two days, she's been gone!" Father yelled, to no one in particular. Those brave enough to stay in the area were clearing out as they sensed the storm coming. Only the six remaining Archangels remained.
Rena sat at her perch on her giant protector's shoulder, a look of worry on her face. "What's eatin' Daddy, Brand?" she asked. Brand sighed, drooping his shoulders. She barely managed to hug his neck before falling.
"It's Serrael. She's been gone for a while. It's natural that he's concerned. She is his true daughter, after all." Rena frowned at this, hugging Brand's neck a little tighter.
"Wish Daddy was my real Daddy..." she muttered. After a few moments, she shrugged and slid down Brand's arm, leaping to the floor. "Ah, fuck all this moody shit...I'm watching cartoons in my room!!! Come on, ya big lug!" Dragging him by one finger, she pulled him out of the den, her childlike nature shifting to her actual self. James watched them leave, one eye still boring into his tattered Bible.
"God bless the child; her mind is fractured..." he said, turning a page. "Reminds me of a passage...Spare the rod and spoil the child. Now, where was that-"
"LEAVE!!!" Father screamed, pointing at James. He was still staring at the blank screen, but the look on his face unmistakable and demanded obedience. "By God, everything reminds you of a SCRIPTURE! God himself doesn't read the book as much. Get out of my sight."
With a quick nod, James strode off at a fast pace for the door. "Zealous prick..." Father muttered.
"I hear you. Want a little...distraction?" Mara sat on Father's lap, tracing the lines of his suit with her finger. "Now...does this armor have a button somewhere-" As her hand dropped lower, Father stood bolt upright, dropping her to the floor.(AN: Literally, you sick pervs...) "Ow! I'm not usually into the rough stuff, but if you want it that-"
"Shut up, you insufferable slut! It's bad enough that you've got my son in your claws, now you're seducing ME? I created you, you whore!"
"Geez...I can take a hint, Gramps..." In a flash of purple light, she was gone.
"All of my generals are insane..." he muttered, heading for the door.
"Like father, like son, eh, Daddy?" The screen flickered to life. Father turned to look up at his daughter's face. Though she was smiling, he had the feeling that good news wasn't coming.
"My Angel...where are you?!" he said.
"Don't you know, Daddy? Oh, that's right, I found your little tracer and turned it off."
"How did you-"
"Gee, Daddy. You raise a girl to hack, and you don't think she can handle a little bug? Tsk, tsk." Her smile was fading fast, and Father was starting to get nervous.
"I want you come home immediately. The Hunters are searching for us, and they know your face-"
"A little edit here, a little change there, and I'm out of that little test transmission. Besides, I'm not coming home until you see reason."
"REASON?!! What are you-"
"Can it, already. I heard you and Master. What did you call Nadia...a useless pacifist?! He's changed you! I'm not coming home until you stop being a fool and sent Master back under his rock! Till then-"
"Serry, wait!"
"Buh-bye!" The screen turned itself off. That didn't stop Father from punching the screen, shattering it in a single blow. The den's door seemed to slam behind him as walked out, screaming at the top of his lungs. "RENA!!!"
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Night found himself back in the training facility, though one couldn't tell by looking at it. The walls of steel had been replaced by a large dome of stone. The place was lighted by a green crystal above. For the last hour, Night had been in the middle of a saber fight. He would have been in a hundred pieces if they weren't just using stun sticks, and even then, he felt like he was vibrating. Slate didn't know the meaning of slow down, and Night was getting angrier by the second.
"Dammit, I'm not a saber fighter!" Night yelled. Using his longer stick like a spear, Slate got another hit into Night's leg.
"This isn't about sabers! It's about instincts! Keep your guard up, for chrissakes!" As he spoke, he let loose with a twirling hit that slapped Night right in the face. "Though I admit, this is really fun!"
"Shut up!" Night charged forward, sword upraised. He slashed downward, adding a dash boost to the strike. Slate just ducked under it, thrusting his stun stick into Night's chin, followed by a rapid series of jabs. Night went down.
"Slate Rule...well, one of 'em, anyhoo: Save your finisher for the finish!" Slate said, walking towards the door. "Meet me in the caf once you can move!" With a wave of his hand, the cave faded back into the bare cube it was. "Till next time, rook!"
Slate walked through the open door, only to bump into something. *Something soft,* he noted. He found himself face to face Serrael, the look on her face not a happy one. His ever-present grin grew a little wider as he realized was he was still brushed up against. "Fancy meeting you here, babe!"
She simply smiled her biggest smile, put her hands in his shoulders, and watched the expression on his face as her knee shot upwards. Pushing aside his crumpled form, she walked over him to Night. "So he does have one...Guess every wanker does...Hentai."
Night was cackling as hard as he could, ignoring the pain in his chest from his recent training. He barely managed to sit up as it was. The painfully loud chime of his comm broke his humor.
"Night, this is Alia! GDAir just had most of their silent alarms tripped. Strange thing is, no one seems to be responding from the base. Something bad is happening, I can feel it."
"Father..." Serrael said. Her voice was subdued, something Night had never heard from the girl.
"What's that new girl doing there?" Alia asked.
"Never mind that! Can't you send Slate on this? If there's a Mav, he's obviously more prepared for it!" he said. "There's enough voltage running through me to light a city, right now...I'm not X. I can't just run in and hope for the best!"
There was silence from the other end for a long moment. "You're right. I can't expect you to be another X." Another long pause. "Sit this one out. You need the rest. Alia out."
"Well, my asshole title is safe for now..." Night fell back to the floor. He felt a breeze blow by and opened his eyes to see a green light flash and Serrael disappear. "Aw, shit..." A second later, the training area was empty.
(Well, there goes my chapter. This one was fun to write. Hope you all enjoyed it, especially all of my lovable reviewers! Imp-chan, xxshadowxx, and all the others, keep it coming! I'll try to crank it out a little faster, but don't hold your breath...All I can say about the future is that things are about to line themselves up for the big fight. Till then...See you, space cowboys.)