Author's Note: Good thing I have several copies of Birathion at my disposal
just in case of this sort of thing. Rayen has the original, of course. I
wouldn't steal the only weapon that can save Endiness. Well, I steal it,
clone it, then give back to him, but that's different. 'Cause Rayen still
has the real one. So yeah.
Yeah, it's nice to see that so many people like my fic. Apparently it's more difficult to get reviews when your fic consists of OC's, but it appears that I've managed all right. Thanks to everyone. I'm thinking of writing a fic about telling the whole story from Dart's POV because I got so sick of people portraying him as a total moron. But I'm still not quite sure, and even if I did decide to do it I probably wouldn't start it for a while because, in case you haven't noticed, I'm really starting to enjoy writing this story. I probably won't start/update any others (except for maybe my humor fics when I get a burst of inspiration) until after this one is at least close to complete. But that won't be for a while, so just tell me what all of you think of that idea, or any others for that matter, and I'll have some time to think it over before I make a decision.
Chapter 51
"What? I will not!"
Shade sighed. "Rayen, you have to."
The Guardian Dragoon was obstinate. "Why me?"
The Dark Dragoon tried to remain calm as he explained logically. "You're the leader of our little band, whether you like it or not. That makes you the figurehead, the symbol that the populace will rally behind. You have the power to lead Endiness to victory; you've shown them that already."
Rayen mumbled and put his face in his hands. "Damn, I hate politics. I never asked to be leader of anything."
Kyra cut in. "But you became one anyway. No one asks to be a leader for anything; the position is forced upon them. But you've done a damn good job of it regardless, and there's no reason you should stop now."
Rayen glanced up at her, a puzzled expression briefly crossing his face. That was the first positive statement he had heard leave her mouth since he had returned from his brief abduction by the Creator. Was it possible that his suspicions were all in his mind? Rayen clutched his head and thought to himself. "Soa, I don't want to think about this right now..."
Rayen attempted to dispel his headache and spoke again. "There are people out there that are still after my head, you know."
Shade had expected this protest, and was ready with a quick counter. "Their attitude towards you won't change if you make a damn public hearing. Besides, what can they do to you anymore anyway? You're the most powerful person on the planet!"
"If I'm up there without my armor, it won't be hard to take a shot at me."
The Dark Dragoon folded his arms. "Who said you're making a speech without your armor?"
"Shade, you know I can't do that. I was told not to use it unless I need to."
This time it was Phil's turn to cut in with simple logic. "Who says you don't need it? If you're worried about someone taking a shot at you, then you need it, right? Besides, it'll look a lot more convincing if you're in armor and everything."
Rayen glared at his friend. "So even you're against me on this one? Fine. Remind me to chuck your Dragoon Spirit into a lake again."
"That was NOT funny. I was soaked by the time I got that back."
Oraeus chuckled. "Actually, I found it rather amusing. You looked like a drowned rat."
"Yeah? Well, look like a senile old codger, but I don't think water is doing that..."
Rayen sighed and interrupted. "Fine. I'll do the damn speech. But I'm not going to like it."
"Fair enough."
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There was a knock on the office door.
Senior Executive Trega looked up in irritation, as always, before uttering his customary reply. "Enter."
The assistant poked his head into the room. "It has been completed, sir."
"Has it now? Well, I suppose I had better go and examine it. I hope the process went more smoothly than with the original."
The assistant risked a snicker. "I doubt the original's process could have gone worse."
To the attendant's great surprise, Trega did not appear annoyed by the comment. The man breathed a sigh of relief as his superior passed through the door.
The corrupt executive remained silent on the way down the elevator to the ground floor, but the assistant appeared used to this. A tiny bell signaled their arrival at the lobby, at the chrome doors slid open. As he walked through the lobby, shiny black shoes clicking against the tiled floor, Trega ignored all attempts to waylay him as he headed for the door. Recent events had caused the BOA Corporation to suffer massive losses, and the press was always searching for juicy nuggets of gossip to report, even if they weren't truly expecting to receive them.
Trega got into the car that was waiting outside, shutting the door in the face of a particularly audacious reporter. "Drive."
Trega got a moment's cruel amusement as he watched his assistant chase after the car before he finally told the driver to stop. The assistant caught up with the limo, panting. The executive scowled as he opened the door. "Maybe that will teach you not to lag behind."
The assistant muttered a hasty apology as he got in. The car started back up again, smoothly headed towards the outskirts of Lohan. Trega steepled his fingers and rested his chin upon them. "How did testing go?"
"Testing exceeded all expectations, sir. Even yours."
"Is that so? Maybe those fools have finally learned to do something right. As long as this one doesn't escape."
"Indeed, sir."
Eventually the car reached a squat inconspicuous building. "How ironic that this should take place in the same laboratory as well," Trega remarked, but he hardly seemed amused by the thought.
Trega and his assistant were led through the maze of catwalks by a pair of uneasy scientists in anti-contamination suits until they finally arrived at their destination. The subject in question sat calmly in his cell, not even looking up at the new visitors that stared at him through the reinforced glass window. Trega examined this new creation. He had never seen the original in person, but he had been shown photographs, and knew the rest only by reputation. "He seems a lot more docile than his predecesor. A lot less ugly, too."
One of the scientists spoke up. "He was made from the DNA before it was altered, sir. Docile probably isn't the correct word in this situation. Obedient would be more appropriate. We took the liberty of editing out some of the original's larger faults."
"I assumed as much. Taking his DNA before beginning the process was probably the smartest thing you did in that project."
"Thank you, sir."
Trega got annoyed at that reply. "That wasn't a compliment. You and your underlings fouled up a great deal with the first project, but this is you chance to redeem yourselves."
"Yes, sir. He's been genetically enhanced from the original, and we even managed to stumble upon a Dark Dragoon Spirit. It works for him, although I can't fathom why. He's artificial."
"You're a scientist, not a philosopher. It's not your business to fathom about anything. Just thank your lucky stars and keep working. Is he complete?"
"Yes, sir. He's ready to be deployed as soon as you give the order."
"Good. I assume you've prepared a demonstration?"
The head scientist pushed one of the countless buttons that were laid out on the gigantic control panel before him. "Of course."
There was a loud buzzing noise, and half a dozen monsters were released into the cell. The pair of sceintists glanced at the executive anxiously, worried if he considered this sort of test a waste of what limited funds they had left, but Trega did not appear irritated. Two very familiar blades were drawn, and the monsters charged, half-starved and thirsty for blood. It was over in a few moments. Without even having to transform, a strange black-haired man dispatched the monsters with ease.
"Excellent. Release him immediately. Coincidentally, what did you decide to name the project?"
"We went with your suggestion. We thought it appropriate. Project Eclipse."
"Very well, then. I trust that he will give Project Shade and the others substantial difficulty."
"Yes, sir."
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Rayen slid Birathion back into its sheath and let out a heavy sigh as his armor faded. The Guardian Dragoon suddenly realized he was sweating, and that he couldn't remember a single word he had just spoken. He hated crowds. The heat, the noise, and the thousands of eyes watching him constantly all got to him. He was just glad that it was finally over.
He looked out on the crowd assembled in the main room of the Crystal Palace in Deningrad. It was a fairly small group, twenty thousand people at most, but news crews were crawling around the place like an insect infestation, so Rayen expected that by the end of the day the most remote Serdian would know of his words. There were no assasination attempts, and it did not appear like he had offended any racial groups, and the Guardian Dragoon supposed that was as much as he could hope for. In fact, a few minutes after he left the room, he found six people following him. As he turned around, they pulled out six gems. Two Silver, one Jade, one Sea, a Red-Eye, and a Violet.
Another six Dragoons wouldn't win them the war. But it was a start.
Author's Note: So, Rayen's going to have to adjust from being a guy who constantly ducks under the radar to the most famous person on Endiness. Let's see how he handles it. To make matters worse, now there's a genetically enhanced clone of Shade running around. WITH a Dragoon Spirit. You people didn't think I forgot about Trega, did you?
Yeah, it's nice to see that so many people like my fic. Apparently it's more difficult to get reviews when your fic consists of OC's, but it appears that I've managed all right. Thanks to everyone. I'm thinking of writing a fic about telling the whole story from Dart's POV because I got so sick of people portraying him as a total moron. But I'm still not quite sure, and even if I did decide to do it I probably wouldn't start it for a while because, in case you haven't noticed, I'm really starting to enjoy writing this story. I probably won't start/update any others (except for maybe my humor fics when I get a burst of inspiration) until after this one is at least close to complete. But that won't be for a while, so just tell me what all of you think of that idea, or any others for that matter, and I'll have some time to think it over before I make a decision.
Chapter 51
"What? I will not!"
Shade sighed. "Rayen, you have to."
The Guardian Dragoon was obstinate. "Why me?"
The Dark Dragoon tried to remain calm as he explained logically. "You're the leader of our little band, whether you like it or not. That makes you the figurehead, the symbol that the populace will rally behind. You have the power to lead Endiness to victory; you've shown them that already."
Rayen mumbled and put his face in his hands. "Damn, I hate politics. I never asked to be leader of anything."
Kyra cut in. "But you became one anyway. No one asks to be a leader for anything; the position is forced upon them. But you've done a damn good job of it regardless, and there's no reason you should stop now."
Rayen glanced up at her, a puzzled expression briefly crossing his face. That was the first positive statement he had heard leave her mouth since he had returned from his brief abduction by the Creator. Was it possible that his suspicions were all in his mind? Rayen clutched his head and thought to himself. "Soa, I don't want to think about this right now..."
Rayen attempted to dispel his headache and spoke again. "There are people out there that are still after my head, you know."
Shade had expected this protest, and was ready with a quick counter. "Their attitude towards you won't change if you make a damn public hearing. Besides, what can they do to you anymore anyway? You're the most powerful person on the planet!"
"If I'm up there without my armor, it won't be hard to take a shot at me."
The Dark Dragoon folded his arms. "Who said you're making a speech without your armor?"
"Shade, you know I can't do that. I was told not to use it unless I need to."
This time it was Phil's turn to cut in with simple logic. "Who says you don't need it? If you're worried about someone taking a shot at you, then you need it, right? Besides, it'll look a lot more convincing if you're in armor and everything."
Rayen glared at his friend. "So even you're against me on this one? Fine. Remind me to chuck your Dragoon Spirit into a lake again."
"That was NOT funny. I was soaked by the time I got that back."
Oraeus chuckled. "Actually, I found it rather amusing. You looked like a drowned rat."
"Yeah? Well, look like a senile old codger, but I don't think water is doing that..."
Rayen sighed and interrupted. "Fine. I'll do the damn speech. But I'm not going to like it."
"Fair enough."
************************************************************************
There was a knock on the office door.
Senior Executive Trega looked up in irritation, as always, before uttering his customary reply. "Enter."
The assistant poked his head into the room. "It has been completed, sir."
"Has it now? Well, I suppose I had better go and examine it. I hope the process went more smoothly than with the original."
The assistant risked a snicker. "I doubt the original's process could have gone worse."
To the attendant's great surprise, Trega did not appear annoyed by the comment. The man breathed a sigh of relief as his superior passed through the door.
The corrupt executive remained silent on the way down the elevator to the ground floor, but the assistant appeared used to this. A tiny bell signaled their arrival at the lobby, at the chrome doors slid open. As he walked through the lobby, shiny black shoes clicking against the tiled floor, Trega ignored all attempts to waylay him as he headed for the door. Recent events had caused the BOA Corporation to suffer massive losses, and the press was always searching for juicy nuggets of gossip to report, even if they weren't truly expecting to receive them.
Trega got into the car that was waiting outside, shutting the door in the face of a particularly audacious reporter. "Drive."
Trega got a moment's cruel amusement as he watched his assistant chase after the car before he finally told the driver to stop. The assistant caught up with the limo, panting. The executive scowled as he opened the door. "Maybe that will teach you not to lag behind."
The assistant muttered a hasty apology as he got in. The car started back up again, smoothly headed towards the outskirts of Lohan. Trega steepled his fingers and rested his chin upon them. "How did testing go?"
"Testing exceeded all expectations, sir. Even yours."
"Is that so? Maybe those fools have finally learned to do something right. As long as this one doesn't escape."
"Indeed, sir."
Eventually the car reached a squat inconspicuous building. "How ironic that this should take place in the same laboratory as well," Trega remarked, but he hardly seemed amused by the thought.
Trega and his assistant were led through the maze of catwalks by a pair of uneasy scientists in anti-contamination suits until they finally arrived at their destination. The subject in question sat calmly in his cell, not even looking up at the new visitors that stared at him through the reinforced glass window. Trega examined this new creation. He had never seen the original in person, but he had been shown photographs, and knew the rest only by reputation. "He seems a lot more docile than his predecesor. A lot less ugly, too."
One of the scientists spoke up. "He was made from the DNA before it was altered, sir. Docile probably isn't the correct word in this situation. Obedient would be more appropriate. We took the liberty of editing out some of the original's larger faults."
"I assumed as much. Taking his DNA before beginning the process was probably the smartest thing you did in that project."
"Thank you, sir."
Trega got annoyed at that reply. "That wasn't a compliment. You and your underlings fouled up a great deal with the first project, but this is you chance to redeem yourselves."
"Yes, sir. He's been genetically enhanced from the original, and we even managed to stumble upon a Dark Dragoon Spirit. It works for him, although I can't fathom why. He's artificial."
"You're a scientist, not a philosopher. It's not your business to fathom about anything. Just thank your lucky stars and keep working. Is he complete?"
"Yes, sir. He's ready to be deployed as soon as you give the order."
"Good. I assume you've prepared a demonstration?"
The head scientist pushed one of the countless buttons that were laid out on the gigantic control panel before him. "Of course."
There was a loud buzzing noise, and half a dozen monsters were released into the cell. The pair of sceintists glanced at the executive anxiously, worried if he considered this sort of test a waste of what limited funds they had left, but Trega did not appear irritated. Two very familiar blades were drawn, and the monsters charged, half-starved and thirsty for blood. It was over in a few moments. Without even having to transform, a strange black-haired man dispatched the monsters with ease.
"Excellent. Release him immediately. Coincidentally, what did you decide to name the project?"
"We went with your suggestion. We thought it appropriate. Project Eclipse."
"Very well, then. I trust that he will give Project Shade and the others substantial difficulty."
"Yes, sir."
************************************************************************
Rayen slid Birathion back into its sheath and let out a heavy sigh as his armor faded. The Guardian Dragoon suddenly realized he was sweating, and that he couldn't remember a single word he had just spoken. He hated crowds. The heat, the noise, and the thousands of eyes watching him constantly all got to him. He was just glad that it was finally over.
He looked out on the crowd assembled in the main room of the Crystal Palace in Deningrad. It was a fairly small group, twenty thousand people at most, but news crews were crawling around the place like an insect infestation, so Rayen expected that by the end of the day the most remote Serdian would know of his words. There were no assasination attempts, and it did not appear like he had offended any racial groups, and the Guardian Dragoon supposed that was as much as he could hope for. In fact, a few minutes after he left the room, he found six people following him. As he turned around, they pulled out six gems. Two Silver, one Jade, one Sea, a Red-Eye, and a Violet.
Another six Dragoons wouldn't win them the war. But it was a start.
Author's Note: So, Rayen's going to have to adjust from being a guy who constantly ducks under the radar to the most famous person on Endiness. Let's see how he handles it. To make matters worse, now there's a genetically enhanced clone of Shade running around. WITH a Dragoon Spirit. You people didn't think I forgot about Trega, did you?