Hi! I know, I know, it's been forever, ne? But this part is longer than previous installments (though, not by much). See everybody react to the attack on Prez Shinra and how the War is going. See Cloud make a new limit break! Woohoo! (has read too many FF8 fics recently. BTW, please check out Acid Rain and Race Ulfson and their story arc, if you like yaoi with the FF8 characters. I read their fics at least twice a week. You better tell them to continue, too!)
* * *
The whole Shinra encampment was abuzz with the rumors of the attempt on President Shinra's life. The news was at least a week old, considering how crappy the communications lines were, right now. There seemed to be a few different versions of it floating around, and Cloud could only spot the ones that were obviously propaganda.
The version that had Shinra himself fighting off twenty armed men, with a conspicuous absence of nearby Turks, was one. The one that said that Wutai had taken out the Turks and killed a bunch of SOLDIERs, too, was another. Cloud currently had his money on the one that said Shinra had fled in terror, with the Turks protecting him, and maybe a couple dying. That seemed to him to be the most accurate sounding one floating around, though he hoped none of the Turks had really died. He had a passing mental image of loud, messy, hyperactive Reno lying totally still in a puddle of his own blood, his once-glowing eyes dull and staring. He shuddered, and hoped that was just a thought born of an overactive imagination.
His blue eyes flicked down the hill to where everyone seemed to think the rebels were encamped. He doubted that it was the only place they were dug in at. Of course, he'd overheard Lieutenant Jackson discussing the matter with some of the other officers and senior noncoms, and his arguments had seemed valid enough. The more he thought about them, the more sense they made. Why would Wutai make only a few large encampments, anyway? They hadn't the manpower to be able to get away with it, unlike the Shinra, and the Wutaian people were nothing, if not good warriors and strategists. Instead, as the Lieutenant had pointed out, wouldn't they spread out over the countryside, so they could always be picking off Shinra troops, but the Shinra could only inflict minimal casualties on them?
Cloud sighed and listlessly glanced at the papers he'd made up to outline his Materia reallocations. He'd already checked them five times, he doubted he'd find anything wrong with them now. He'd really not gotten much worthwhile Materia, but he'd done the necessary reallocating with his usual precision. The only Materia left were a couple of MP Plus, which no one had really needed and no one had wanted, either. He'd taken them himself, and discovered that they were actually mastered. Together, they had been more than enough to max out his MP. Now, of course, he had more than enough MP to cast a Comet 2. He could even cast several! Of course, that wouldn't help him unless the enemy actually showed themselves.
Cloud tucked the papers away, peering out into the dark. The moon was only a sliver, half-hidden behind the shredded trails of silvery clouds, and didn't provide much light to see by. Once again, he wished he'd made SOLDIER. He wouldn't be stuck here, first of all. And even if he was, he'd be able to see more than two inches in front of his face. He didn't like this darkness. It felt…ominous, tense, like a stalking cougar readying itself for the lunge, and the kill.
He combed the whole of the area he could see with his eyes, trying to pick out human shadows from the tricks of a dark night. Truly, having this sliver of moon was worse than having none at all, because there were shadows that could startle anybody, including Cloud, into raising a false alarm.
Cloud twitched suddenly. He'd heard something. There had been a sound like the wind in the grass, a snap of a twig like an animal had stepped on it. Alone, these sounds didn't seem like much, but they'd happened so close together…. He hesitated, though. If he now raised the alarm, and it proved false, the Wutaian rebels would have the chance to slip into camp. He quickly shook his watch partner, Ray, and whispered his suspicions in his ear. Ray had heard the sounds, too, apparently, and agreed with Cloud's evaluation. Potential threat, alert someone higher-up now, in case something was going to happen. Ray very carefully eased his rifle into a slightly better firing position, and Cloud readied himself for the short, dark, dangerous jog into the main camp.
Most false alarms didn't make it to camp because the rebels were picking off runners left and right. If they really had something going down here, Cloud was in for a really scary run, here. Ray offered to run for him, but Cloud wouldn't hear of it. He was faster and stronger than Ray, especially since Ray had just recently recovered from a deep laceration to the left thigh. Cloud steeled himself and took off into the gloom toward the cheery campfires. Cloud himself would have hesitated to light fires, since they silhouetted people far too well, but the massed Shinra forces were 'untouchable' and didn't have to worry.
Cloud suddenly heard that sound like wind again, and forced his legs into faster motion. There was no wind here. Suddenly, a heavy weight crashed into him, and a knife gleamed near his throat. The only thing that saved him was his own knife and his 'loner's sense'. Cloud had always been able to tell when someone was intruding into his personal space, and the feeling of someone in his space bubble had alerted him just in time to get his knife out and up.
Cloud and his assailant struggled on the ground for several moments before Cloud became aware that other silent shadows were running past them towards the camp. They had so much surprise on their side, the Shinra would never know what hit them before the rebels flitted into the night again. Cloud did the only thing he could.
The Wutaian rebel actually flinched at the piercing, high-pitched scream that issued from Cloud's throat. He knew that any sort of scream would instantly have the Shinra camp on their feet, and rifles in hands. Then Cloud changed his scream into a shout. "'Ware! 'Ware! Rebels!"
The rebel atop him instantly swooped for his throat with his wicked blade, and it scored deeply into Cloud's tender throat, but the moment of distraction had been all Cloud needed. He kicked the other in the groin, hearing a breathless cry of pain, and shoved his assailant off of him. His own knife drew across the other's throat laterally, opening not the windpipe, but the arteries. The man shrieked, but Cloud didn't care what sort of noise he made; he wouldn't be making it long. Cloud noticed that the now just whimpering rebel was only about thirteen. Wutaian war had always been hard on the younger generations.
Just then, Ray came running up. One side of his face was dark and shiny under the pale moon; blood from a cut above his eyebrow. "You okay, Strife? Was that you screaming? Sounded like a woman, man! Scared me to death!" The man touched his bloody face, sobering. He'd grown up from when he'd talked to Cloud in the gym after the SOLDIER testing so long ago. "I took care of the one that tried to jump me; looks like you got yours, too. We need to get to camp. I just hope no one mistakes us for the enemy and blows our heads off!"
Cloud nodded, ignoring the pain in his throat, and jogged after Ray.
* * *
Hours later, Cloud crouched in a messy corner of one of the trenches, covered in mud, trying to keep his rifle clean as best he could. It was one of the new Mako guns, so he didn't have to worry about getting any powder wet, or gumming up the mechanism, but it still kicked, and he did not want the damn thing slipping out of his hands when he fired it.
His throat still hurt, since he'd had to use a potion, instead of a spell to heal it, but it was closed just as efficiently as any Materia could have sealed it. Now his main complaints were lack of sleep, food, and a dull soreness from being crouched in a trench all day. Oh, yes; the sun was up, but the fighting continued. Apparently, Wutai had massed its forces for this battle. Cloud and Ray had stolen the surprise from them, but the Shinra forces had still been hit hard.
SOLDIER had taken its first casualties. A whole squad had been wiped out. Cloud had no doubt that they'd given better than they got, but Cloud still felt the pang of loss. He'd not known any of them, fortunately, but he felt closer to them than he did to the other regulars, for the most part. He also felt the huge blow to morale every other regular had suffered. SOLDIER was supposed to be unstoppable, and that had kept them all going, knowing that somehow they'd win in the end.
Now, even the might of Shinra's super-elite seemed less than adequate.
Cloud glanced over at Ray, worried. He could only imagine how his friend must have been suffering. Fortunately for Cloud's conscience, Ray seemed to have lapsed into that state where you're too tired to realize you hurt, and too tired to care if you do. None-the-less, Ray was positively wired. The medics, and anyone else who could, had been around with the hypers. They were the only things keeping the forces from simply keeling over with weariness and low morale. Everyone knew intellectually that the Wutaians were grinding themselves into nothingness with their continued assault on the much larger Shinra armies, but that didn't help anyone's aching bodies, empty bellies, or shell-shocked minds.
Cloud heard the sound of renewed battle rippling down the lines toward their own position, and forced himself, stumbling, to his feet. While he was in better shape than most of the other troops, trained with SOLDIERs, and had a will that could carry him through most hardships, so long as it lasted, he was still on the verge of collapse. He dimly wondered how Ray, beside him, managed to rise time and again. Maybe he just responded really well to hypers? Cloud had had refused them, because he got 'excessively violent' when on them, and knew that none of the medics were bothering to check medical records right now.
The most horrible part of all of this was that right now the Shinra was being driven back. Even as Cloud and Ray stood and leveled their Mako rifles, a section of the line to their left started to cave. The two of them fired into the first few Wutaian warriors they saw, then were forced to fight with bayonets. This was the true reason the Rebels were winning; Shinra didn't stress close up combat anymore, but that was where the natives truly shone. They were taught martial arts of all kinds from a young age, and made good use of that expertise.
Of course, Cloud, like any SOLDIER, had received hours of training in hand-to-hand. He'd been teaching some to the other members of his platoon as he could, so Ray had some additional training, not to mention a surprising arsenal of dirty tricks he'd picked up someplace.
They waded into the battle together, bayonets, knives, rifle-butts, and fists flying.
* * *
Cloud shuddered in the bitter wind. Hours of fighting, and finally something had changed. The weather, for one. For the other, Wutai had called up reinforcements.
R-e-i-n-f-o-r-c-e-m-e-n-t-s.
It was no longer raining, at least. It was the only bright spot Cloud could find in this whole mess. The wind had picked up, the sun was setting again so it was getting cold, and Cloud now had a nice scar on his ribs where a Wutaian sword-a sword, damn it!-had cut him when he was out of potions. By the time the medics had gotten to him, the wound was too old to heal seamlessly.
Cloud was currently taking a few moments of rest, just enough to gulp down part of an M.R.E. and some water. Cloud actually liked M.R.E.s, but he was too tired and pissed to even try to focus on the food. He felt his age, for once; just a tired little boy who wanted to go home and curl up in his mother's lap. He suppressed weary tears, and took another bite of the 'fruit cake' thingy he was munching. Just because he liked M.R.E.s didn't mean they looked or tasted anything like what they were supposed to be.
Cloud was also repressing the urge to march down to the battle and let loose a battle rage. Currently, the little box attached to his forearm that displayed his status was indicating only the status effect 'fury'. Hypers were generally given to induce that effect, but Cloud was running on just the rage of a teenage boy who was sick of being picked on. At least the bullies home in Nibelheim hadn't been able to kill him or his friends. Now he was stuck in a real fight, and he wondered if he should have listened to his mother and avoided the military.
Cloud was lost in the grim circle of his thoughts and almost didn't notice someone approaching. Only when they stepped into Cloud's 'space bubble' did he notice, and he instantly had his knife out and ready to strike.
Major Shimo smiled slightly. He'd thought he could sneak up on the brooding young man, but the sudden gleam of Cloud's trusty knife had proven the blond was a little more alert than he'd thought. That was good. Shimo really wanted to be filling out recommendation forms for the blond in a few months' time. If the boy didn't make SOLDIER after all this, Shimo knew there was a whole garrison of SOLDIERs that would take issue with the higher-ups.
The major sat down next to the spiky-haired youth, and watched out of the corner of his eye as he eased the blade back into concealment. Shimo never could figure out where the thing was hidden or how Cloud could get it out so easily, so he left it as one of the mysteries of the universe.
Cloud's blue eyes were looking at him from under blond bangs, and Shimo turned his own pale eyes to the boy. He decided to start right in. "Strife. According to Colonel Andrews, the forces at Xi-Fe-Xiu are not enough to put down Wutai." He saw the blue eyes darken almost to violet, and paused, allowing the implications to sink in. Strife nodded, his face as impassive as Shimo's own. Shimo continued. "The Colonel is calling the other Wutai-based armies up as fast as possible. They've been on the way since the President released the freeze on SOLDIER, but now they're headed here on the double. Even so, we won't get any reinforcement until late tomorrow." Again Cloud nodded.
"Strife, according to Colonel Zack, you have in your possession a powerful Materia." He saw the boy tense in response, and took that as an affirmative. "He says also that you may be reluctant to use it, because it is so powerful. Cloud," he said, leaning closer, using his first name for emphasis. "We must hold until tomorrow. All the SOLDIERs here have been ordered to equip their Materia. We have mastered elemental Materia, and a few weaker Summons, but every bit helps. I've talked to Lieutenant Jackson, and he said you're to use whatever this Materia is as you deem necessary."
Cloud stared at Shimo, eyes wide. They were ordering him to use the Comet Materia?! He dumbly nodded his understanding of the order, realized that this was a Major in SOLDIER he was nodding stupidly at, and jerked to his feet.
Shimo shook his head, watching Cloud nearly trip over himself to salute, and caught the hand as it was coming up, and put it back at Cloud's side. Cloud blinked, puzzled. Shimo shrugged slightly. "Jackson also said that you were to get some shuteye tonight. The rebels have pretty much ground to a halt for the night, anyway." He turned and walked away from the little patch of dirt the regulars were using as a mess, calling behind him, "I'll make that an order if I have to, Strife!"
Cloud stood unmoving for several long moments, the few others in the 'mess hall' staring at him. Cloud finally gathered up his mess kit, and tottered off to find out where they had stashed the stuff from his platoon.
* * *
Cloud stretched languidly as he left the tent erected for his squad. Since they were hot-cotting, and most didn't even get to do that, it had been deserted all night, and Cloud had slept like the dead. His body thus refreshed, though his mind was already weary of the war again, Cloud made ready to face another day. His rifle was clean, he wore a not-quite-as-dirty-as-the-last-one uniform, his knife was in its sheath, and his father's sword, which he'd not dared to carry to battle yet, was strapped to his back. It was sharpened and polished like a mirror and contained only Cloud's All-Earth combination. He had an Earth Materia in his rifle and the MP Plus Materia were in his Dragon Armlet. Comet was in the little bag on his belt. Even with okays from Shimo and Jackson, Cloud was wary of displaying the Materia for all to see.
Cloud felt eyes on him as he walked to Lieutenant Jackson's tent to report for the day. He ignored them, straightening his back and holding his chin high. The weight of the sword on his back was comforting, and his recharged Mako rifle was another familiar presence. He was ready. He hoped.
Gathering himself for a moment outside the tent, Cloud quickly calmed himself down. He rapped on the wooden frame of the tent, and entered when he was acknowledged. He lifted the flap and stepped inside. Then he stood, face still, mind reeling, as he took in his surroundings, and his commander.
Lieutenant Jackson sat on a hard folding chair behind a card-table littered with papers of all kinds. His eyes were circled with black, and he looked sunken and pale. His eyes met Cloud's, quietly reading the horror growing in their blue depths, and accepting it.
Cloud's gaze flitted to the table, looking at the paperwork that had been draining so much out of his normally vital commander. He blinked and stared; this work shouldn't be sitting on Jackson's 'desk', this was what Banford was supposed to be doing!
Eyes full of controlled rage, Cloud looked back up at the Lieutenant, and came to a perfect attention, an equally exact salute rising to his brow. "Sir," Cloud began crisply, mentally increasing his opinion of Jackson several notches, and decreasing Banford's equally. "Specialist Strife, reporting." He tried to show all his respect, all his concern, and all his confidence in the other all in that one sentence, expecting it to be misread totally, but Jackson smiled gratefully at him for a moment and indicated that Cloud should sit down. Cloud obediently did so.
Jackson's eyes raked over him appraisingly, taking in his less dirty appearance. Cloud sat still, and waited. Finally, Jackson spoke. "You look much better today, Strife. That's good, because we're going to need you."
Cloud sat up straighter, no mean feat with the sword still on his back. "I'm ready, sir," he said very softly, unwilling to break the relative peace of the tent's interior.
Jackson chuckled. "Good. I take it that Major Shimo has already spoken with you?" At Cloud's nod, he continued. "I've ordered all of our troops possessing a level two or higher offensive Materia to equip it and be ready to use it. If you really do have as strong a Materia as Shimo suggests, I do not want you using it indiscriminately."
Cloud understood that, and nodded. Jackson nodded back, face grave. "Strife, we know that the enemy knows that we've got reinforcements due today. They hadn't the strength last night to continue their assault, and had to stop, but they know they must wipe us out sometime before noon today or their flanks and rear will be assaulted by fresh troops from Xiun-weh and Kari-Sarhat. They will attempt to wipe us out in a massed engagement. That is when I want you to use this Materia. Do you follow me?"
Cloud understood. /Wait until the enemy is focused on the attack, desperate, and confident that they've seen all we have, then kick 'em hard with all we've got./ "I understand, sir."
"Good." Jackson leaned back in his chair, and it creaked ominously under his weight. Jackson grimaced. That sounded about how he felt, carrying all this responsibility he was never meant to have. /Planet's sake, I shoulda never left the enlisted ranks. I just hate being an officer, sometimes. Sending kids like Strife and Ricardo Ramirez to what's probably going to be their deaths…/
"Well, I suggest you get out there, Strife. Wouldn't want our friends to start feeling lonely, would we? Dismissed." Jackson's voice held a blessed spark of humor, and Cloud smiled and stood, saluting.
"Yes, sir!" he said and went out to the front of the battle, enthusiasm shriveling when confronted with the reality of war, leaving only the desire to survive.
* * *
Cloud felt the wind change suddenly, and looked across the field that had become the main battle ground. The blood ran out of his face as he looked on a roiling sea of Wutaian troops surging across the battle field toward the main Shinra forces. It was only a couple hours shy of noon, and up until now there'd been little real fighting. Even though Cloud knew it was too much to hope for, he had secretly wished that the enemy commander would miscalculate the time he had with which to deal with the foes before him. A couple hours, though, was more than enough time to at least severely damage the remaining army before the natives had to fight their way out, or vanished into the countryside.
Cloud heard the soft clinking sounds of Materia being checked in their slots, and the steady roll of the approaching army's feet. But under that sound, he could hear the sound of other feet approaching, and turned his head.
Up the incline, marched column after column of SOLDIERs, Shinra and unit banners flying. He recognized some, didn't most, but was glad to see all of them. They formed up along the ridge alongside the regulars who had Materia. The rest of the troops, regardless of company or platoon, had been formed up at the base of the steep slope, ready to charge, once the advancing tide was within range. The SOLDIERs would charge once they were in range, too, but they would fire off volley after volley of spells in the meantime.
Unless the other forces started to lose horribly, Cloud and those others with him were to stay put. Cloud knew some resented that, while others were guiltily grateful. He himself was just confused about what he should be feeling. He felt like he should be happy over being likely to survive, angry at not having a shot at glory, and nervous over the upcoming battle, but none of these feelings surfaced. He felt only the wild joy of one already celebrating their victory, and a deep sickness of some impending….something. A distant threat that seemed to get closer by the moment, yet not entirely something to be feared.
Oh, yes, he was one very confused little soldier. Of course, there wasn't much he could do about it now.
Cloud watched as the SOLDIERs, with their greater control and range, fired off their first spells. Several minutes later, the regulars opened up. Cloud, however, waited, conserving his MP until all of the enemy force, or, as much as possible, was in range. The forces below began to move, and Cloud spared a momentary prayer for Ray, in the front of the charging army, before winding up for his spell.
He took a deep steadying breath, and pulled off one of his gloves. That hand then went for the cool green Materia in his belt-pouch and retrieved it. He held it in his naked hand and raised it to his eye level, studying it carefully for flaws. What he was about to attempt was not something he'd do with a flawed orb. But Zack's gift was every bit as perfect as he could have wished.
"Okay, buddy," he whispered to it, hoping that Zack and Sephiroth knew he was thinking of them, somehow. "Don't let me down…!"
Using all the power of his MP Plus Materia, and all of his own personal strength, Cloud bent his will upon the orb shining in his hand, activating it using the usual amount of MP required to cast Comet 2, but not allowing it to come. He contained the power inside the Materia, pouring all his power into it as quickly as he could, which was still so slow. He wanted to hurry, to get it over with, but that would hurt, and he couldn't afford to hurt himself now and lose control of the spell. He would need all his power for the end, anyway.
Minutes went by as Cloud poured all his mental energies into the gem. Shimo, nearby, had noticed the there were no unduly powerful spells going off, and went to check on Cloud. He found the blond, unmoving, eyes closed, a green orb in his bare right hand. Peering closer, Shimo realized that it was a Comet Materia, and took a step back. Cloud had a Comet?
Then he realized what Cloud was doing with said Comet Materia. The spell never came, but the Materia glowed brighter and incrementally brighter with each passing moment. Cloud was holding the spell!
Shimo lurched forward, more than half-intending to stop him. Then he froze, an uncharacteristic wave of indecision paralyzing him. If he interfered now, Cloud would lose control over the gathering energy in his hand. While losing control now would be better than losing control later, Cloud had already put over two hundred MP into this spell. Maybe he wouldn't lose it. It was possible, after all.
But where the hell had a mere fourteen-year-old specialist in Shinra's regular army learned how to hold a spell?! Rationality kicked in again when he remembered that cloud specialized in Mako Sciences. He probably knew more about the use of Materia the Shimo, with all his years of experience, did.
Cloud, meanwhile, was lost in the act of pouring all his strength into the orb clutched in his hand. Now he was pulling on it as much as it on him. He'd now pushed over 500 MP into the thing, and could feel it responding, albeit sluggishly, to his will.
It was a well known theory that Materia contained only a small amount of the power the Ancients had had. People thought there was only so much power that could be contained in a small sphere, and, to some extent, that was correct. Most SOLDIERs learned a little about putting extra power into a spell to amplify its affect, thus, they had greater effective ranges on their spells. What most people never thought about was that the power of the Ancients was that of the Lifestream, and Mako was condensed Lifestream energy, and Materia were condensed Mako.
A small Materia could hold far more power that a living being of comparable size and mass.
Another thing people, even SOLDIERs, didn't realize, was that Materia had spell levels beyond what could usually be tapped. Some even had three or four more levels than were apparent. Like the element-based Materia. They were generally stable up to level 6: Fire 6, Ice 6, Bolt 6, Quake 6, Bio 6, and so forth. When tapping the absolute highest spell a Materia could muster, however, the spell, and the Materia itself, destabilized, resulting in the loss of the Materia, and the release of most of its power in a spell of unimaginable magnitude. Where the rest of the power went, no one knew, but people who had drawn a Materia that completely usually experienced a period of…well, insanity. Some were psychotic forever afterward.
Cloud, at this point, couldn't even spare the attention to pray for himself. He'd done all his praying when he'd settled on this crazy idea, anyway. Perhaps he was already operating on a sort of insanity, but he didn't want Wutai defeated, he wanted them gone. And that was exactly what he intended to do to them.
He poured the last of his MP into the green orb, and could tell by the light filtering through his eyelids that it was glowing as brightly as if he held a small star in his hand. Then he reached inside the Materia with all that remained of his will and pulled the most powerful spell he could from it. He knew immediately that it was not the spell, but all the extra MP he'd fed it would make up for that. Besides, it'd be a shame to destroy Zack's gift already.
Then, as he coaxed the spell out, he felt it. Like shards of hot glass running through his veins and arteries, even into delicate capillaries, starting at that point where his hand came in contact with the glowing orb. His body felt like it was being torn apart cell by cell, but he dared not let go of the gem. He pressed it to his chest instead, trying to, by that solitary pressure alone, stifle the cry of agony the welled from deep within him. As he finally let go of the cry, the spell at last materialized, thousands of burning, icy comets screaming down from a sky gone pitch black. He threw back his head, and his keening wail of pain became a valkyrie shriek of ecstasy, as the torment not so much left as became oddly normal.
The ground finally stopped shaking with the impact of Cloud's spell, but Cloud didn't even notice. Instead he was feeling his empty hand pressed against his chest, and a strange, cool, smooth weight inside himself. He reached for it, and got the impression of comets, of meteors tumbling through space, but he couldn't harness them. They were where his level three limit breaks should have gone.
/Bahamut's scales! The Materia is inside me now? What do I tell Zack? That he's gotta cut me open to get his Materia back, and even that might not work?/ He fought back a sob at his thoughts. But only his thoughts tormented him now. His body felt wonderfully alive, and he buried his mind in the sensations of his body.
And he heard the Wutai army still out there.
His eyes flew open, and narrowed to slits as he watched the back end of the enemy army regrouping. It never even occurred to him to wonder how he could see them so well at this distance. He was overcome with his rage, his need to destroy that army. He unslung the sword from his back, loving how it felt feather-light, and perfectly balanced, not that slightly awkward feel it had had before. He started toward the battlefield.
Shimo had been wondering why Cloud was putting so much power into a Comet 2. Sure, he'd obliterate whatever he hit, but he could never hit them all with a limited number of comets.
After the spell, his jaw hung slack with surprise. He'd never known such a thing was possible, and he whipped his grey eyes back to the young blond in disbelief. Cloud was very pale, and swayed slightly on his feet; the Materia was no where to be seen.
Cloud's eyes suddenly snapped open, and he pulled his huge SOLDIER type sword from his back, starting down the rise with murderous intent outlined in every muscle of his body. Suddenly realizing that Cloud was intent on chasing down and murdering every last one of the remaining rebels, Shimo placed himself in his path.
Cloud casually reached out with one hand and shoved Shimo backwards. He landed in a heap, wondering disjointedly where Cloud had gotten the strength to do that. He looked up at the teen to discover him glaring coldly at him. His face was expressionless, except for a cold determination to carry out is mission. Shimo sat shivering on the ground long after the specialist had left one image stuck in his head.
Cloud's purple-tinted, glowing, Mako eyes.
* * *
Well, here we are! I hope you all enjoyed this! I'm really having fun making up my own branch of science, here! Hehehe! I got Cloud his Mako eyes in an unorthodox way, didn't I? Who says everything happened in Hojo-slimy-bastard-madman's labs?
Self promotion here: Please review Scenic Route! I need encouragement to keep going. I have part of the next part ready, but, encouragement's always cool! For those who have reviewed: ARIGATOU GOZAIMASU…..MUCHOS GRACIAS…etc.
Also check out my new original work, The Face the Mirror Wears!
Ja ne!
--Akuma no Tsubasa