End of a Reality

by Blue9Tiger and DarkMutatedBrock

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DMB: Okay, okay... this chapter gets a bit melodramatic. :/ Sorry. However, AVALANCHE MAKES AN APPEARANCE!!!!

B9T: Stay tuned for chapter 8. ^_^

DMB: Yeah, it's better.... REALLY, it is. People get eaten, Cass, Butch and Domino are introduced..... and things go boom. ^_^

*~*~*

"Pain makes the body master of the will."

--*Giovanni Demoni, to Mewtwo. (Mewtwo Returns)

*Dialogue recorded by Team Rocket Master-Helicopter computer. When questioned by employees, Demoni denies any knowledge of the ocurrence, save for a feeling of "utter defeat".

*~*~*

"Why won't she train ME?!?!??!"

--Brock Bravestone, about Professor Ivy (PokéBall Peril)

*~*~*

Chapter 7: Fires of Damnation and Damnable Chess

*~*~*

The agreeable Pewter sky had been transformed. At its northernmost ends, screams of the doomed punctuated the air, as their more fortunate companions evacuated the condemned museum that was ablaze with dark fire. The monster that had once been Brock was lethally efficient, attacking the structure from multiple sides at great speeds, blowing out whole sections of the building that crushed the people beneath.

A boy of about ten or twelve came rushing to front of the museum, a baby Rhyhorn at his side. Without a second thought, he ran into the burning building, the billowing smoke causing him to cough. Layers of the ceiling tumbled down, their light fixtures exploding into flames. The fire burned a slice of the wall off, and it plummeted down to the floor, sealing off the door. And the dark fire continued to burn. He now had no choice. The boy resolutely headed deeper into the scorched institution, searching for the living.

The living.... what a joke. Bodies were strewn everywhere, of visitors---men, women, children---the employees, and the scientists.... the scientists.... they looked as if they had been mauled inside out, their blood splattered on the burning walls, with their mangled bodies lying in pools of what seemed to be red gasoline.

And then, the screams of the rest. Not the living, but the dying.Their cries of tortured pain as they suffocated in the dark clouds of smoke that refused to rise to the sky, as they were crushed under falling walls, those surviving the blows finding themselves trapped, and trying to escape from the flames....

Who---WHAT---could have CAUSED such a thing to happen? To the MUSEUM, of all places. The haven of the peaceful scholars, the place where school children were dragged to learn about history...... What had the school children---who were all lying in the center hall.... which had just collapsed----what had they done to deserve such a fate? And in PEWTER of all places, one of the most peaceful, caring communities in all of Kanto.....

A community of hypocrites.

"It was the MONSTER!!!!" One yelled, a survivor of the first blast. "He came down---like---like DEATH, swipin' everywhere with these big------huge------CLAWS!!!!!! And then he threw these.... these... ENERGY things and it hit the GAS, and-----I tried to save 'em, but I couldn't!!! They were already DEAD!!!!"

The man in question had stepped on their groaning bodies in his escape.

However, the people believed him, as the entire city watched in horror, either from afar or from their TV sets. No one dared enter. Officer Jenny was still recuperating from being attacked by the same MONSTER, and the trainers of the Pewter City Gym were content to hold a conference with Flint, the leader, and plan a rescue, without actually DOING anything.

They were cowards. All of them.

Except for one.

And that one was a mere boy.

"Anyone---alive here?" the lone boy called out, in between fits of coughing. The sheets of noxious smoke inflamed his throat and stung his eyes. He felt as if his chest would explode: the toxic fumes slowly poisoned his lungs, his arteries, his veins. Why had even gone into the building, to search for the living among the dead? The bloody, desecrated corpses that could not be helped in body anymore?

Because no one else would.

The smoke-covered boy struggled along, searching in futility, tripping over the corpses and landing in their stagnant blood, and with no one to aid in his useless, pointless search. He was alone with the dead, their silence beckoning him to become one of them. But the boy refused to believe that. He ran through the puddles of blood and the poisonous haze, desperately gasping for air as he made his way towards a faint voice. Whoever he was, he was fading, but it was not silent. There was still some LIFE. The dead couldn't be physically saved. But the living, even though their thread of existence was hairs away from the blade, had hope, however dim.

"Hang on!!"

The boy was filled with a new vibrance, and he ran towards the weak whisper.

But when he arrived there, there was only a corpse, a pool of cinnabar leaking out of the neck where the medulla had been severed. The head still had a mask of inexplainable terror, the eyes wide open, the face of the dead staring straight at the boy, maintaining the frozen gaze even as the dark, rising flames fed on the corpse, devouring it slowly, as the boy could only stare in fear, and could only wonder.....WHAT did this.

However, before the young boy could wonder any more, there was a sudden thump. The sound.... it didn't fit in with the sound of crackling, burning flesh, dripping blood, the crashes of falling walls... It just.... didn't belong...

The baby Rhyhorn at his side began to whine, nudging its muzzle into the boy's side. It was breathing rather quickly, grunting squeakily in urgency.

However, there was suddenly a new sort of sound... a new being breathing.... harshly. With exertion. From a hoarse throat which could only roar, grunt, and growl.... The.... THING.... that had done this.... ALL of this.... It was breathing down his NECK......

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

It was doom hovering over him. The boy was frightened beyond words. He slowly turned around, beholding the terrifying monster. It was unlike anything he had ever seen in his life, and it was right in front of him, ready to kill him without mercy unless he did something first. He looked at his Rock/Ground Pokémon, and ordered it in urgency to, instead of attack like most trainers did, defend itself.

"Rhyhorn, Harden!"

The small Rhyhorn did it as it was told, its granitic body growing more resistant to outside forces. The boy encouraged it in a calm, yet forceful tone, and stood beside it, with the freak of nature facing him. Someone had to get out of there alive......

The boy was hoping that no one would have to die, maybe not even the vicious killer. Yet, life just didn't work that way......

The creature didn't move an inch. It just stood there, watching with narrowed eyes as the child tried to save the Pokémon.... As the child risked its own life so that the Pokémon would live....

The monster didn't care in the slightest.

It lunged forward, baring its teeth and licking its deformed lips with its forked tongue. It was then that the blood became visible---crimson, human blood dripping down its claws, its chin, its lips.... its TEETH...... canines, sharp as the blades of knives...

And now, for the final kill. A small, after-meal dessert. Yes, and the Rhyhorn would be an easy meal as well..... Blood..... BLOOD was all it wanted, all it cared about..... Strange. It had been ordered ONLY to destroy. Then again, its master had been consumed by instincts as well....

"GrrrooooAAAAAAAAARRRGHHH!!!!!!" It growled and hissed in a hideous show of power, arching its neck as it stared downwards at the terrified boy with its glowing red eyes. Although they were partially covered with bangs, brown bangs that were plastered to the forehead of the creature, they were still demonic, hellish in---------------BROWN.....BANGS...... plastered to the creature's forehead.... brown hair..... drenched with sweat and blood, sticking out all over again.... SPIKED......... covered with all kind of filth, and the face.... a strange.... sort of build, framed by pointed ears......... and that HAIR....... spiked-------brown--------hair................

....That HAIR... it looked like the hair of someone he knew, that he looked up to as a model of what an honest, upright man should be. That HAIR made the disgusting, filthy, carnivorous creature staring him in the face, ready to devour him as monstrously as inhumanly able...the brown bangs made it look like someone who had looked after him, he who lived in a torn, unstable family. Yet, HOW could this bloodthirsty POKéMON even bear the SLIGHTEST resemblance to that well-meaning, good-natured person that had meant so much to him?

There was nothing......except for the HAIR. The unmistakable spikey hair that rendered that venerable human so recognizable. It was then it hit him.

BROCK!!

He shut his eyes, trying to hold back tears that were welling up. Rhyhorn beside the nonplussed boy growled in confusion, noticing a change in its trainer's expression. It was no longer of fear, but of absolute shock. He could only utter the name with great difficulty, filled with fear, and bewilderment...that...that CREATURE was BROCK, one of the few people he looked up to and admired for their good character. And here was the very same Brock, about to kill him and his Rhyhorn in cold blood. He couldn't stand this. Not at all. He COULDN'T stand it. It was impossible!! It couldn't be right! It WASN'T right!!! It seemed all out of proportion, not feasible...yet, it was grim reality. The boy's feelings were spiralling out of control, and he threw himself in front of Rhyhorn, yelling,

"NO!!!!! This CAN'T be HAPPENING...!!! Not to you...not to........."

He choked on a tear. "...my bro.....!!!!!!!"

There was nothing. No hesitation, no snarl of realization, not even a gasp of shock. Nothing seemed to be different about the creature, other than the fact that it had suddenly silenced, and it wasn't moving.

Suddenly, there was the loud crack of burning wood being ripped from its foundation by gravity, and the sound of creaking as a dark shadow began to grow on top of the predator, the prey, and the small rock Pokémon.

The hideous creature slowly turned around, looking up towards the falling wall, which was slowly coming upon them.........

It then turned towards the boy, its eyes.... there was fear in them, now. No anger. No bloodlust. No hate. No imprisoned soul that couldn't grasp at reality.....

Just fear.

It suddenly threw a hand towards the boy, but instead of ripping the other's throat out, it grasped the child's arm, and tugged him to his feet.... like.... a big brother.

CRRRRRRRREEEAAAAAAAAAK!!!!!!!

The creature grasped the boy and lunged out of danger's way, grunting in exertion as it hit rolled over in the air, twirling and hitting the ground running.

And then it dove. And dashed. And lashed out, and dodged and rolled, all the while with the boy in tow.

But most of all, it was running, running like a bat out of hell.

A growing hell, that is. The dark fire was ignited with the excess wood to fuel it, and the glowing flames expanded in size, reducing the number of exits there were to the burning building. While the fire grew about them, the boy hastily calling back his Pokémon, his mind was in turmoil. Could it be that Brock had come to his senses? That the THING had a conscience? The vicious monster that had killed so ruthlessly now saving him? What was happening? Had everyone gone completely insane?? Thoughts whirled through his mind as the hideous mutant dashed through the burning corridors, with him, the boy, who was still trying to expel the smoke that had entered through his airways, under the creature's protection.

The creature itself was using every muscle in its body, every sane piece of tissue in his brain, to try to get OUT of this flaming maze. It would growl now and again, in futility, as it rushed towards what it thought were exits but what turned out to be barricades of smoke and burning wood. They were trapped.... there was no way out.... NO WAY OUT........

And suddenly..... the lightbulb went off.

You came in through the ceiling. Go out through it.

The monster paused for a moment, standing in the main hall as it silently looked upwards, and nodded to itself. It then looked down at the boy and grit its teeth, wrenching him into the hold of both his arms, and securing his arms over its own shoulders.

And then....... it shot upwards, an energy field taking the blow as they escaped.... they rose out of the smoke, out into the clear night sky.... and then down towards the forest, crashing through the branches of a nearby tree and the creature's back taking a brutal pounding as it slid on the ground, and burning pain shot up through the scales until they finally came to a halt.

The creature's eyes stayed shut for at least two minutes. Its entire body was scratched. Its arms were burnt. Its face and HAIR were covered in sweat and the blood of OTHERS. Its chest was heaving up and down in pure exertion....

And then it opened those eyes, those blood-red, crimson, demonic eyes, and they stared up towards the shaking boy, who was still being clutched to his chest by his arms. The creature could only stare... what could it do? What could say? It was still struggling to grasp its bearings, and those eyes were so full of shock.... and fear.

But nevertheless, they were RED. Not any NORMAL color, such as blue or brown, but RED. Endless negative connotations came with RED. Those two narrowed pools of blood screamed HATRED. But HOW? How could THIS happen to..... Brock? Just a few years ago, such an agreeable... HUMAN, taking life's challenges with an open mind and always encouraging of others. But..... THIS... MONSTER was a bloodthirsty killer. And yet, he was saved by it. By IT. Saved by IT that was once HIM. It was too straining on his already tired mind to think anymore about it. Instead, he spoke, his words impeded by fits of coughing.

"Brock...how could you..DO that? Why'd you.....KILL your friends .....neighbors.....WHY??"

The.... creature..... continued to stare up at his sibling, in complete and utter shock.

Then, the actual WORDS registered in his mind.

The beast within had not been fully tamed, and Brock leapt to his feet, grabbing the boy by the shoulders with panicked, hysterical terror in his eyes. He was holding his arms so tightly that he was digging the claws in....

He then said, in a hoarse, inhuman growl that had not been used for human speech for hours which seemed like days:

".......Kill.....?"

The growl impressed upon the boy's ears, and he winced at the hoarse, animal sound. THIS couldn't be his brother...... yet the horrible creature was Brock, and clutching onto his arms, making them bleed.

"Quit it.....! You're not... going to kill me, are you?"

The boy was terrified beyond imagination, his arms being held by the monstrous creature, that had killed so freely, and now recalled none of it. He was still young, and had little grasp of these inexplainable horrors that were gruesome reality. He only knew that Brock had somehow become a monster and had killed.....taken away the lives of....MURDERED those that were in the Pewter Museum of Science. But, he had no conception of WHY. Had he known why, there could be little doubt that the mental trauma would lead to emotional instability that would give way to insanity, at knowing the terrifying truth. But, this wasn't the case. He knew only the bare facts: no reasons behind them. People had DIED so swiftly at the.....CLAWS and TEETH of his relative..for seemingly NO reason at ALL. "How come you don't know what you did...!?" the boy demanded, his narrowed eyes hot and angry, that was meshed with the despairing feelings of one who is lost, and can't seem to find the answer to. He looked into the other's hideous face, yearning to know what drove his brother to this. WHAT had happened? WHY did it happen? Until he knew that, he could not rest. The smoke was overpowering: it consumed his lungs.....but he HAD to know.

"I killed........" the monster stared, the claws slowly relaxing their muscles in shock, until they tensed once more, harder this time. He snarled as he GRABBED the young boy and held him in the air, shaking him violently, with strength he didn't even know he had.

"I KILLED!!!!! WHO DID I KILL!?!??? WHY-----WHY DID-----HOW COULD I KNOW, TOMMY??!?! HOW THE HELL COULD I POSSIBLY KNOW WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!??"

He paused a moment, and resumed the shaking, that was choking the smoke-infested boy, which was beyond even Brock's own control.......

"TELL ME, DAMMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

But all the boy could do was choke at this point. Choke on sobs and tears.... and smoke. He couldn't breathe.... how come his brother couldn't see? Brock wanted to kill him..... Brock WANTED to see his brother DEAD...........

"TELL MEAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!" There was a final roar, heard throughout the bowels of Mount Moon and the depths of the Orange Sea, as Brock wrenched his poor, defenseless brother into the air, and SLAMMED him against the trunk of a tree.

There was a cry of the damned....... Then the sickening crunch of bone upon flesh and wood.

And then silence, only broken by the hard breathing.

There was suddenly a pause, and the sound of a shaky growl.

"Tommy....? Tommy.... I didn't mean it...."

The sound of a growl breaking into a whine.

"Tommy? Please.... answer.....

"............Tommy, please answer me... Tommy? Your head's so wet...... Tommy, I promise I'll make you some... some hot chocolate when we get home, okay?..... Just answer......."

The Pokémon of the forest began their normal sounds, oblivious to the dark figure that was slowly falling backwards, another, lighter figure grasped in its claws.

"Please, Tommy..... Please......

"God, please answer, Tommy......... I can't...... I can't live if you don't...."

The Noctowls hooted, the Pidgeys nested, and the occasional Beedrill hummed against the soft sound of chokes and tears, as the creature began to rock back and forth, holding the lifeless body of a small boy, the vessel of hopes, dreams, achievements--all destroyed--against its scaled chest.

*~*~*

"Check."

The haughty bishop moved majestically over the wooden board, stopping five squares away from its target. There was the king, vulnerable and defenseless... unless it was moved.

The raising of an eyebrow, scratching of a chin, and a small "Aaah...." of realization as the opponent smirked and skillfully brought his hand down upon his rook, smoothly replacing the bishop with his own piece.

"Hm. Your move."

The other was heavily miffed, and hastily moved his knight to capture the opponent's bishop, foolishly throwing it into the path of a pawn.

The smirk turned into a slight grin, as the pawn jumped diagonally on top of the knight, and suddenly, it was defeated. However, in doing so, the second player had very foolishly left their queen for the taking----which was dangerously close to its king.

Because the pawn moved, the rook now had an open field to charge across and claim the enemy queen, in the process, blocking the king. Yet, the rook could easily be taken in a single move. This would only be used as a last resort, however, and instead of the castle, a lowly pawn moved into position to block the king.

"Check."

The opponent reeled slightly, angered that he could have left his essential pieces open so stupidly. There was the bit of a grumble as he scanned the board with his eyes. The only possible way out.... was to sacrifice his queen.

"........." Silently, and remorsefully, the opponent's head sank and he did as his instincts told him.

From the opposite end of the board, the second rook came charging up to the king, taking the queen in the process, and it as well as the surrounding pieces impeded any type of movement from the plastic monarch.

" 'Mate."

The opponent arched both eyebrows, took a sip of the lavender tea that was set beside the board, and very gracefully rose to his feet and outstretched a hand. "Excellent game."

The other took his opponent's hand and shook it in the most gentlemanly manner as possible, being gracious in victory. "Same to you."

The opponent nodded, pulled away, and opened the door of the conference room, calmly closing it behind him. He turned towards the interior of the rest of the large structure, making a meditative stance on the juxtaposition of the game to checkers, and pondering the philosophical aspects of chess and what kind of effects it could have on the lives of those involved in it. He assumed that it must have been quite a blow to his own pride that he lost so frequently, and that his opponent had surely been practicing rigorously during the recent lethargic times. Of course, seeing that he himself always lost and came back for more defeats only proved that his self-esteem was most probably lacking from behind his facade of semi-ignorance.

He took another sip of tea.

And then threw it on the ground, gave a yell of pure fury, and grabbed at his coarse yellow hair in turmoil.

"YYYYYYYYYEEEEAAAAAGHHH!!!!!!!!! HOW THE #*(@&#IN' HELL COULD BARRET BEAT ME IN A #*&@ GAME OF #*&#@* AND #@^*@#& CHESS?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?"

A mahogany-crimson colored mix of a lupine and feline sat on his haunches, focusing his nonexistent right eye on the cursing pilot and snickered.

Outstretching his paws, the hind and fore ankles decorated with some kind of bangle, he loped over to the coarse pilot who obviously could not hide his true identity from the reader for long. The animal found much humor in this, and didn't hesitate to crack a joke.

"I can't believe it either. Your intelligence quotients are about the same."

"Awwww, thanks a lot, dog-breath," Cid scowled, trudging over towards a nearby bench. He slumped into it, grabbed a cigarette from the box behind his ear, lit it, sighed, and commenced in drowining his sorrows in nicotine. "The damn BASTARD'S beaten me TEN &^#(* times already!!! TEN!!!!!"

Inhale, exhale, cough.

"If ya ask me, the man's gone NUTS!!! I mean---HOW TENSED ABOUT CHESS CAN SOMEONE #**@IN' GET?!?!??!" Continued the smoking man who was yelling at the top of his tar-coated lungs, his blue eyes red from practicing with himself in the dead of night, and his currently ungloved hands gripping the armrests of the bench for their dear lives.

A very--no, extremely--no, HEAVILY---no----LARGELY developed adult woman walked casually into the room, and looked at the heavy smoker.

"Cid, I swear, you're going to die within ten years if you don't lay off on those!" Tifa chided, crossing her arms and glaring him in the eye. She was usually very mild-mannered and cool-headed, but with the disappearance--and sightings--of Sephiroth after they had supposedly destroyed him, as well as Shin-Ra, off the face of the planet, was troubling her somewhat. She was sure that AVALANCHE destroyed Sephiroth, and Rufus' fall during Diamond Weapon's attack confirmed that Shin-Ra was also gone.

However, there had been reports by Kalm Town citizens that Shin-Ra employees had appeared, and then disappeared just outside of Midgar. This was disconcerting. The Kalm Town residents were not known to be ones to hallucinate. And a few weeks later, Junon citizens had seen the same thing happening at where the stream flowed into the ocean. This was very disconcerting. Was Shin-Ra completely gone?? Or had they found... some.. way to survive? Whatever had happened, she knew it couldn't be good, and hence, was somewhat more tense these days. She usually didn't mind Cid's smoking at all. The fact that she had actually referred to it was a hint that all was not right in the world.

After admonishing him, Tifa walked out of the room, and Red turned his muzzle towards the door, widening his eye.

"Nothing travels faster than a bad mood."

Cid seemed to be in his own little world, however.

"DAMMIT!!!! I PUT THE FRIGGIN' QUEEN WHERE I FRIGGIN' WAS SUPPOSED TO-----I FOLLOWED ALL THE RULES-----HOW THE HELL COULD THAT HALF-BIT, BEADY-EYED, MARSHMALLOW-BEAR, BIG, FAT SON OF A WORMGUT BEAT ME?!?!?!?!??"

It seemed as if the world had gone completely insane as Cid jumped to his feet and a full orchestra began to play in the background. "ME!!!! CID----------HIIIIIIIIGHWIND!!!!!!!!"

The orchestra died down, and there was silence for a long moment, as crickets began to chirp and a paper, a tumbleweed, and a plastic bag blew across the floor simultaneously.

Cid blinked, and then hunched over in dejection, his eyes narrowed as he trudged off towards the sleeping quarters.

"Fiiiiiiine then, HAVE yer fun.... but remember.... I'll getcha.... Hah... HAH-HAH!!!!!"

With that, the temporarily-crazed pilot slammed the door to his room and locked it behind him.

As Red XIII watched in amusement, a tall, slim figure leaning against the wall arched an eyebrow.

"That was rather..... disturbing."

The voice was indifferent and stoic, undoubtedly caused by some past horror that was too abominable to bring into the light. The man's visage was a ghastly color, drained of most of its pigment.....he was a callous shell of a human, that had been cast down into the hell of inhumanity long before the two present monsters had been, their presence unknown to him. In fact, he acknowledged very little at all. Perhaps it was because his soul had been strangled on that very vivid day....but that was the past, and it was the present, and it was the future. There was no good future for him to look foward to. Not while knowing that the creatures inside of him were gnawing at his soul to be released.

Red regarded the vampire-like man with a nonthreatening stare.

"Disturbing? That's nothing! You should see him when Barret beats him at CHECKERS. He'll lock himself in his room for a day."

"Checkers?" Vincent arched his other eyebrow. "That is puzzling. Chess is widely regarded as being more challenging than.... checkers."

It was hard for the vampire-man to converse normally, and although he managed to only sound a bit archaic, his mode of speech was strangely monotonous and without emotion. Red didn't regard this emotionless being as odd. The fruits that the planet bore were of many shapes and sizes, and as long as they lived in the harmony and peace and the oneness of the planet, he felt there was no reason to lash.

"That's why!" Red answered, laughing. "It's an easy game. Cid can't bear losing at something so simple!" He gave a toothy, canine grin. "Especially to Barret!!"

"Really?" Vincent pursed his lips. He looked in the air a moment, as if thinking about a distant planet.......

Then, he turned back towards Red, a completely serious look on his face. "Tell him to buy Tetris. My observations of Yuffie and her.... 'GameChild' tell me that it is a simple game."

The mysterious gunman then moved away like a gale within a storm, his red cloak flowing in the nonexistent wind behind him as he made his way to the cockpit.

The wolf/lion was left there to ponder...how "Tetris", which was an electronic box game, could be easier than checkers? Electronic box games, which did not exist in Cosmo Canyon, looked much harder than boards. This kind of thinking inclined him to scratch behind his ear, as this question was intriguing. Where did electronic boxes COME from, anyway? Had Bugenhagen been alive, maybe he would know the answer. But Red knew that he wasn't, and it saddened him. So he contented himself to look out the window, where there was a faint white light that shone, and then it abated rapidly. Red blinked his one eye, and stared harder, but the glow had vanished.

However, there was little time to concentrate as a hurricane sped past at over a hundred miles an hour.

"WATCH OUT!!!!! COMIN' THROUGH!!!!!!!!!" Yuffie skidded to a halt next to Red and looked out the window of the Highwind, stretching out her neck. Since they weren't flying anywhere, she wasn't airsick; hence her good mood. "What're you lookin' at?!"

"Whatever it is, it's gone," Red answered, his pointed ears raising up and down, as he watched it intently. Suddenly, the flash of light appeared again, and Red jumped. "There it is!"

Out of the light came several figures garbed in blue, each carrying a medium-sized lump of dirt. Red placed his paws on the window, his eye widening. "Look!"

Yuffie's already-big eyes widened as well, as she put her nose to the window and looked downwards. "Hey.... is it just me.... or are those the Turks?!? And....." Her eyes widened to the max, and she jumped up and yelped in shock.

"TSENG?!!?!?"

The Turk in question looked as normal and as.... well, ALIVE as ever, in front of the small parade of blue suits. One hand was in his pocket and the other casually held around the holster of his gun. Luckily, the cloaking that Cid had recently installed on the Highwind enabled it to be almost completely undetectable to either infrared or the human eye. Tseng didn't seem to notice the huge, once-Shin-Ra ship as he marched in the clearing, his black eyes darting around a moment before he nodded and motioned for his subordinates to pull a box of weird-----lookin'--------rocks-----with------arms... out from the strange light.

The two members of AVALANCHE watched as the blue-uniformed men and woman unloaded their cargo, and Red pressed his black nose up to the window to get a better look. It was bewildering, but it was the truth. There was Tseng, in mint condition, alive and well. What was equally puzzling was the strange lumps of dirt.

"Tseng is alive? And.....what are they holding, Yuffie?"

Yuffie shook her head in a mix of shock and bewilderment. "How am I supposed to know?!?? I mean, it isn't materia------which means it CAN'T be THAT valuable....." She turned away, and then turned back, doing a double-take. "But..... I mean, that CAN'T be Tseng!!!! If it was, he'd be like KENNY or somethin'!!!! He was DEAD!!! Saw 'im myself!!!" She stated a bit proudly. "And he was DEAD, trust me!"

"Yes... but not anymore..." Red continued to watch the Shin-Ra Turks exit the white hole with their load, his mind in a disconnected whirl.

The materia-hunter could only stare, blinking as one of the rocks stuck an arm out of the crate and Elena very furtively kicked it back in---injuring her foot in the process.

"Wow... are those.... dirtballs..... ALIVE?!?" Yuffie managed to cease her gaping for a moment, long enough to blink at Red quizically. "Shouldn't we call the others over?"

Meanwhile, Elena was hopping around on one foot in pain. "OOOOOWWWW!!!! OWOWOWOWOWOWOWW!!!!! TSSSEEEENG!!!!!" She whined, looking towards the higher-ranking Turk in front of her. "Whyyy can't we use those----uh-----Powkeybawl thingies INSTEAD?!??! My foot hurts!!!!"

Tseng's well-known glare was enough of an answer for anyone , and Elena hung her head, narrowing her eyes as she continued to hop around and mutter half-coherent curses.

The slightly comical scene passed with no audience save for the other two Turks, the two AVALANCHE spies, and the lumps of dirt that were contained in the crates.

Yuffie shook her head at who she considered to be a "tomboy-wannabe" and turned back to Red. "Wellllll....?"

"Cloud and the others might want to take a look at this," Red seconded, pulling himself away from the fogged window and loped out of the room, to tell the others of what he and Yuffie had seen.

Red entered the adjoining area where Cloud was cleaning up the mess of tea and china that Cid had caused when he threw a fit over the lost chess game. He bounded towards him and panted,

"The Turks are outside!"

"What do they want? There's no Shin-Ra to work for," The blonde, heavy-hair-gel-addict pointed out, dropping the tea-drenched rag.

"It looks like that's not the case. The Turks are outside, Cloud...and..." The dog gave a hint of a whine as his tail swished behind him, and answered, "Tseng's with them."

Cloud gaped and his Mako-infused eyes widened, completely nonplussed.

"But--Sephiroth killed him!"

"IMPALED him!!!" Yuffie unnecessarily added, nodding.

"You know that as well as I do. But he's.... back...!"

Tifa burst in on the conversation, coming in from the cockpit, her gloved hands on her hips.

"If Tseng's back, maybe the rest of Shin-Ra are, too!"

"We'd better find out!" Cloud decided, and grabbed his Ultimate Weapon, and went off to find Cid, Vincent, Barret, and Cait Sith 2.

*~*~*

Almost all of the Geodudes were roused from their inactivity from Elena's loud upset, and Reno tried to calm her down in the only way he knew: "Hey, 'Lena, SHUT UP!"

Rude stood silent as usual, in his hands three crates of the cargo, that barely reached over his hairless head. He differed from his fellow Turks in innumerable ways, yet somehow they could coexist without too much mishap.

Reno set down his crate and eyed Tseng.

"What're we 'gonna do with this junk anyway?"

Tseng looked behind him and gave another growl. "Bring them back to storage.... sell them off on the black market, I think the President said." He turned away. "I'm not quite sure."

"You're not SURE!??!?!?!" Elena yelled at the top of her lungs. "Then why're we doing this ANYWAY!??!?! I don't GET IT!!!!!!!"

"Yeah! Like 'Lena said, why in hell are we luggin' these big dirtballs---"

As if offended by the term, two rocky arms crashed through the crate, and whatever was inside it was growling incoherently. Reno was startled, and dropped it, the box shattering and releasing a rounded, stone with two arms. "Damn!"

Tseng grit his teeth and held his head in his hand. "Sometimes.... I think you three.... are just......" He shook it and shut his eyes for a moment. "Just..... PICK UP THE BOX.... so we can take it to WHEREVER the President needs us to."

"Yeah, sir," Reno answered semi-politely, knowing that Tseng was not the man to get on the wrong side of. He lifted up the broken box, and then grabbed the small rocky creature by the arms. But the stone gave off a loud cry of fear, and threw Reno's light frame onto the ground. "OW!! DAMN IT!"

Rude heaved an exasperated sigh, but did not open his mouth as he took the belligerent rock and held it, Reno scowling at the other's success as he picked himself up off the dusty ground.

"Hmph!!!!" Elena turned up her nose as she grabbed the smallest box. "I swear, the Prez' doesn't CARE that he's wasting his BEST agents on doing GRUNT WORK!!!! UGH!!! How.... DEGRADING!!!!!!"

Tseng actually agreed this time. "Yes..... but we might as well do as we are told." He picked up one of the larger boxes and marched on ahead. "Just remember... it could be worse. At least we're not bouncing people out of a party......"

"HAH!!! I'd enjoy THAT more than THIS junk!!!!" Elena cried, catching up with him. "I mean, at least we'd actually be using some TURK skills... but right now... we're doin' SOLDIER work!!!! No---LESS than SOLDIER work!!!!"

"Yeah! 'Lena's right! What're we doin' this for? How come the SOLDIERs can't do this? Ain't there more important stuff to do than haul a bunch of---"

"............"

"Huh? What'd ya say, Rude?"

Rude was silent again, his eyes unmoving behind his thick, opaque sunglasses, and the Geodude in his grasp struggling for control. It didn't know why it was there, being relocated from the rugged mountains of its homeworld, but the Turks could care less about the situation of the Pokémon. They were merely carrying out orders, as they had been trained to do dozens of times over.

The twilight of Gaia manifested itself as they neared the ruined metropolis, oblivious to the presence of a certain snowstorm on their trail....

*~*~*

Heh-heh... Ironically, AVALANCHE seems to be the comic relief of the fic. ^_^;;; Rather ironic, eh? Anyway, tell us whatcha think!!! Was everyone OOC? Did you think that the chess players were Sephiroth and his MOTHER??!? Are you speculating that perhaps gerbils are behind EVERYTHING?!?!

If you did.... well.... you've got problems. We like you. :)

TO BE CONTINUED.........