A/N: Whee, more weird chapters! And more awesome reviews (I so happy)!
It's been good *big grin.* So . . . What to rant about this chapter, ne?
Well, I do know one thing. Everybody's gonna kill me. This chapter's a
HORRID cliffhanger AND the next chapter is the ULTIMATE take-off into the
downward spiral. I mean, when I said the finale of this story took the
poor cast downhill I SERIOUSLY meant it. Heehee . . . This chapter pretty
much ends with me making the character's lives a – living – Hell. WHEE!!
Ooh, and a reviewer asked where Ummei was. Good news, this is an Ummei
chapter! A BIG Ummei chapter, in fact! One I've been looking forward to!
Disclaimer: Final own don't Fantasy I. Stupid memory. It's a wonder I talking good can do still. Sorry, I'll stop with the random 8-Bit Theater references. But they're so damn CUTE! . . . And evil . . . Heh.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"It's odd that you can get so anesthetized by your own pain or your own problem that you don't quite fully share the hell of someone close to you."
– Lady Bird Johnson
Several minutes passed. The other prisoners watched Beatrix and Zidane closely, waiting. Beatrix appeared to be rousing herself from the depths of some deep, suffocating sleep. She seemed to wrestle with her very soul for minutes, grinding her teeth with pain and coughing. Then, suddenly, she opened her one good eye and lurched up with a gasp.
"Beatrix!" several of the other group members exclaimed with excitement. Beatrix was looking horrified.
"Zidane?! Zidane, oh god, where are you, Zidane, I – " She stopped when she finally spotted her cell-mate lying unconscious several feet away. Then the general blinked and glanced down where she felt a small weight on her legs. Beatrix stared. Shook her head. Stared some more.
"WHY is Kuja sprawled over on top of me?" She gently rolled the limp sorcerer off.
"'cause that's where they threw him . . ." Amarant snapped.
"And by "they" he means the geonomes," Eiko finished.
Zidane was finally beginning to stir as well. Beatrix spun around on the ground and stared at him. The others watched apprehensively. The ex-thief opened one bleary blue eye and frowned.
"How the HELL did I get here?"
"Ugh, must we go through this again?" Lani snarled. Zidane sat up, groaning and rubbing his forehead.
"Crap, what the hell . . .? Where's Drakja?"
Beatrix blinked. "Uh oh. Where IS Drakja? I remember getting stabbed with something, but you . . .?"
Zidane gazed into the darkness for a moment, trying to remember. Then, in one fatal whoosh it all came back to him: the assault, the jealousy, the whispers . . . the Metsubo.
/I started to Trance . . ./ Zidane realized. /Like some hidden power in me forced Drakja away . . . Then he just . . . he just disappeared! But before he did, he . . ./. Zidane felt a cold chill run like icicles up his spine. Something was NOT right . . . But upon spotting the cell across the dungeon, all Zidane's other thoughts were wiped from his mind.
"Oh my god . . . Mikoto, is that you?"
From one of the cells across the corridor a small voice responded: "yes, brother,"
Zidane rose shakily to his feet (despite Garnet's protests from the cell next to him) and moved towards the bars.
"Mikoto, are you alright?!"
"I'm fine . . . for now . . ." the young genome said softly. "Unfortunately, my soul is expected to be drawn some time within the next few hours . . ."
"Oh, no . . .!" Megan murmured from the cage she shared with Vivi. "Guys, is there ANY way we can get her out of here?"
No one spoke. For once, there really seemed no hope. All the cells expect for the ones with ordinary genomes in them were protected by magically muted barriers. One touch from those and you could die. There was no way anyone could get through them. His mind stuck in a sort of zero-space, Zidane stared at the shadow beside Mikoto. He didn't have to ask what that phantom-like form was.
/Kuja's time is running out . . ./ Zidane thought angrily. /How in the world are we going to get ourselves out of this one?!/
Zidane closed his eyes for a moment. He felt . . . oddly tired. Luckily, he opened his crystalline eyes just in time to spot a slight flicker beside Kuja's soul. Zidane stared. "Oh gods . . ." he whispered.
He'd seen . . . himself?! Next to Kuja?! No . . . No, there was only one thing that could have looked like that!
/My soul . . ./ Zidane mentally gasped. /The Metsubo left an escape route for it! M-my soul is drawing itself out! So that's why Drakja was so pissed off . . .! In failing to capture my soul, he caused it to begin dissipating into the Mist. I-I'm a walking time-bomb! A-any minute now I could suddenly lose my soul and . . ./.
Zidane couldn't think about it. No, he couldn't believe that that was how it would end. Zidane's thoughts were racing as he stared blearily through Kuja's ebbing soul.
/But if Taki-Bi manages to stop the Iifa Tree my soul will be secured . . . But only if she can stop it in time . . . And if I die, Garland could still find my soul when he gains enough power to control the Mist. On top of that, if I die the others probably won't be able to save Kuja! All of Gaia will perish and the planets will assimilate!/
"Zidane, is something wrong?" Garnet looked worried. Zidane hadn't realized he'd been sinking slowly towards the ground, overcome with a strange weariness. He felt tired . . . drained . . . like his soul was being sucked from his very body (which it was). He managed to keep himself in a sitting position and nodded faintly.
"Y-yeah . . . Just tired . . ." He couldn't tell them. "But guys," Zidane glanced around nervously. "I-I can't tell you why just yet, but . . . Let me just say this: whatever pathetic amount of time we had before . . . It's just been cut in half . . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When the door to the dungeon opened yet again, quite a few of the prisoners were nearly startled senseless (Vivi looked like he was about to die). Of course, that was nothing compared to the shock of whom was entering . . .
"Garland . . ." Fratley hissed. Garland was walking proudly through the dungeon, his metal heels clicking along the floor as he moved. The black cape that seemed forever a part of his body fluttered and swelled as he walked. The Terran overlord's empty gray eyes were glaring about in a menacing, mocking manner as he observed his geonome's handiwork. Sure enough, right behind him was Drakja (looking quite smug in his master's shadow) and a geonome the crew didn't recognize (and whom didn't look very intelligent, either).
"Well, well," Garland stopped in the section of cells where the members of the crew were being held prisoner. "Look what the geonome dragged in . . . Excellent work, Drakja," The others figured if Drakja's grin got any wider his face might burst. "I trust my little enemies here know how the assimilation works, hmm?" There was no response save the glares of death. "Excellent, then I need explain nothing," Garland clapped his hands together, smirking.
"Master, have you made your plans for the Angels of Death, yet?" Drakja stuck his tongue out at Amarant and Eiko when he thought no one was looking. Amarant gave him the finger.
"Yes, yes, of course," Garland seemed somewhat annoyed. "Drakja, get another geonome in here now,"
"But Ummei – "
"Another one, NOW!"
As Drakja hurried off to complete the orders, the crew members noticed a rather significant droop in the geonome they didn't recognize. They figured the poor sap was the aforementioned Ummei. Despite the fact that he was the enemy, they couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Drakja returned promptly with a geonome, both looking mildly curious.
"You there," Garland pointed at the new underling. "Get that genome over there out of her cell and take her into my chambers. You will lock her in there with no less that fifteen guards outside the door. Make sure at least TWENTY follow you,"
The geonome nodded and began moving towards Mikoto's cell. Mikoto shrunk away as Drakja threw the young man a set of keys. But it was all futile, of course. Despite minor struggling, Mikoto was soon thrust into the geonome's arms and dragged, whimpering, from the room.
/No!/ Zidane thought, horrified. /Th-they're removing her to take her soul! Mikoto!/
"And you, Drakja," Garland continued. "Will be taking Kuja,"
Drakja's emerald eyes widened to considerable proportions. Silence fell upon the chamber. No one spoke for several minutes in the confused disquiet. The geonome soon expressed the very question all in the dungeon were thinking: "Wh-why?!"
"Why, to burn the body, of course," Garland responded as if this were all somehow normal. "Now get him, go!"
Drakja shrugged, closed his eyes, and with a pop had teleported into Beatrix, Zidane, and Kuja's cell without being injured by the barrier. Zidane wanted desperately to fight, but he felt exhausted. Drakja seemed to know this and grinned. Beatrix, as well, was still suffering from the effects of the Metsubo. Drakja roughly scooped Kuja up and over his shoulder and then the two vanished and reappeared back outside the cell. Zidane's tired, furious, burning gaze followed the geonome like a shadow of death that was soon to come. Oh, how wonderful killing that bastard was going to feel . . .
"Ready?" Garland queried. Drakja nodded. "Then let us proceed,"
Garland began to walk from the dungeon as if it were a funeral procession. Drakja trotted solemnly behind him, the near-dead form of Kuja slung over his shoulder.
"You'll be posted here for guard duty after you help me take care of Kuja," Drakja instructed Ummei as they passed. "And don't mess up!"
Ummei said nothing. He was staring at the door. The geonome carrying Mikoto was waiting there for the "cavalry" to come and guard him in case Mikoto tried any funny stuff. Zidane was quite as shocked as Ummei. Zidane had never seen Mikoto look scared or have any emotions resembling fright. But now she was sobbing, crying to be free.
"Ummei!" she shrieked. "Ummei, don't let them take me! Wh-when Drakja used the Metsubo on me before . . . Ummei, it hurt! Help me! UMMEI!!!"
But the other geonomes had arrived, and soon Mikoto's cries had faded away to nothing. Zidane was surprised. Had Mikoto befriended this odd, slow- witted geonome? Ummei looked scared. Soon Garland and Drakja had left. The door slammed shut, sending the dungeon into icy cold darkness. Ummei stood in the middle, still unmoving.
Mikoto . . . Everywhere he looked he saw Mikoto . . . They all looked like her: innocent, doomed . . .
And then it cleared. Ummei's mind shut off; his body numb. He couldn't be a traitor, he couldn't be a hero. But still . . . He knew what he had to do . . .
Without so much as a word, Ummei reached slowly into his hair. His movements seemed fluid, as if he'd practiced them in his mind a million times before. His eyes were glazed, his hands moving of their own accord. All of the dungeon watched him with curiosity. When Ummei removed his fingers, they saw that he was holding a small hairclip from his ponytail. He held the little scrap of metal in front of his eyes, staring at it as if it were more than just a worthless piece of copper. He was holding his breath, waiting. Now . . . Just do it . . .
And he dropped it. Ummei, with a simple release of pressure from his fingertips, allowed the clip to fall gracefully to the ground and hit the dirt with a "tink" before rolling in front of one of the genome's cells. No one spoke or dared to breathe. This odd little act of defiance had taken everyone by surprise. Then Ummei raised his eyes – now clear – and glanced around significantly. He gave a faint smile, a faint wink, and then (after a distant shout of "Ummei! Come on!") quietly took his leave of the dungeons.
Nobody spoke. The hairclip on the floor looked so innocent . . . As if it had just slipped out of somebody's hair one day and no one had bothered to pick it up . . . It looked like it would be buried in dust by the end of the hour and no one would remember it was ever there at all . . . The dungeon was wrapped in silence . . . Then . . .
"Quick, quick, grab it!"
"What are you waiting for, pick up the clip!"
"Get us out of here!"
"What's taking so long?!"
"The clip, fool, the clip!"
"GRAB THE GOD DAMN CLIP!!!"
In the chaos and confusion of the entire crew leaping to its feet and screaming at the cage of genomes nearest to the clip, the dungeon soon became alight with the pulse of frantic desperation. Their one, last beacon of hope . . .
The genomes in that particular, unfortunate cell seemed extremely confused. They stared at the shouting group of newcomers with raised eyebrows and clouded expressions. Soon Beatrix remembered that these were genomes and that they were still becoming accustomed to whom they should listen to and whom they shouldn't.
"Everyone, SHUT UP!!!" the general shouted suddenly. In their surprise, the crew quickly closed their mouths, several even sitting down and staring stupidly at her. Beatrix kneaded her forehead for a moment, savoring the silence, and then moved up as close to her rigged bars as she dared.
"You four over there . . . Do you have names?" None of the genomes in the cage spoke. Eventually, one of them, a female, opened her mouth hesitantly.
"Th-they call me Yuukan, miss,"
Beatrix smiled faintly. "Well then, Yuukan . . . Do you see that clip there in front of the cell,"
Yuukan slowly roved her brilliant blue eyes onto Ummei's hair-piece. She nodded. Beatrix continued, a slight urging in her voice like one would use to tempt a frightened puppy out from under an airship.
"Listen . . . if you pick up that clip . . . you can free us. All of us,"
Yuukan seemed confused again. Simple locks were not something genomes had been taught on Terra even by their merciless "Crystal." On Terra everything was computerized. A locked door was opened by a telepathic call or a password. Not a key or, in this case, a piece of useless scrap metal. Zidane stood watching Beatrix closely, ready to jump in case things weren't working out.
"Okay, first things first . . ." Beatrix said slowly. "You have to at least get the clip. Reach through the bars and just . . . just grab it. Don't worry, your cells aren't rigged like ours. Just . . . stick your arm through – yes ! Excellent, keep going! You're almost there!"
Yuukan pressed her cheek reluctantly against the bars as she shoved her thin arm through the metal rods. Her fingers brushed up against the clip, missed, and then made a grasp for it again. A silent cheer went up in the dungeon as Yuukan's fingers clenched around the clip's minute frame and withdrew it back into her cell.
"Okay, okay, don't everyone get their hopes up just yet," Beatrix bit her lip. "Alright, Yuukan, now you have to reach through the bars again. Do you see that part of the bars that's thicker. There's a hole in the front of it. Stick your arm back through the cage and feel around for the hole with the clip. When you find it, stick the clip into the hole and twist it around inside until you hear a click,"
Yuukan nodded and pulled her arm back into the outer world. She scraped at the metal for a moment before Ummei's hair-piece suddenly sunk into the keyhole. She twisted and turned but seemed unable to open the lock. A nervous tension rose up within the room.
"It's alright, Yuukan . . ." Beatrix whispered. "You can do it . . . There should be an even smaller hole in the hole. Find that, and then we're home free . . ."
Several tense minutes passed. Suddenly . . .
CLICK. The door creaked and swung open with a rusty whine. Yuukan, withdrawing her arm, stared at the door as if it had suddenly turned to gold.
"Yes! Yes!" Beatrix clapped her hands over her mouth in relief. The others were cheering. Even some of the genomes in the other cells were smiling shakily. "Okay," Beatrix continued to instruct. "Now come over to my cell and do the exact same thing. You should be able to see the key- hole from the front now,"
"But don't stick your arm through the bars," Zidane warned, coming up beside the general. "Or you'll get zapped . . ."
Yuukan nodded as she tentatively opened the door wider and crept out. The three other genomes in the cell with her seemed nervous but followed the braver of the four out into the corridor. They seemed suddenly excited to feel ground beneath their feet that was not restricted to a ten by ten square of dirt. Once Yuukan had reached Beatrix and Zidane's cell, she picked the lock and watched the bars swing open. The barrier still fizzled between the rods so Beatrix and Zidane had to edge their way out carefully. Beatrix laughed.
"Yes! Awesome! Here, I'll take over now," she gently took the hairclip and rushed off to open all the cells. As soon as Garnet's was open, the queen flooded out and threw her arms around Zidane.
"Oh, thank goodness you're alright!"
Zidane smirked, rubbing Garnet's back. "It's alright, Dagger . . . Geez, cool it,"
The others were happily stretching as they stepped carefully into the dungeon. The genomes were watching their doors swing open but remained too afraid to come out just yet. Apparently, this was a good thing because Beatrix began talking again once every filled cell had been unlocked.
"Okay, Zidane and my comrades are coming with me. But the rest of you . . ." she glared significantly around the room, sweeping her menacing eye over every genome in the dungeon. "You are NOT to leave here until we give you word. I'm pretty sure that Ummei guy will be making sure no one comes back in here while he's out. Either way, don't even THINK about leaving the dungeons, okay?!"
"It's for your own safety," Fratley added.
"Yeah, that too . . ."
"Gah, what are we waiting for?!" Eiko shrieked. "Let's go already!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
". . . Pity, pity . . ." Garland shook his head tragically as Drakja (with a bit of help from Ummei) carefully laid Kuja's unconscious body down on a bolted metal table in the room labeled "medical chamber" in the Fire Shrine. There were several other geonomes in there, most of them performing menial tasks and glancing curiously at the odd foursome that had just come in when they thought no one was looking. The chamber was fairly large and decorated with those same pillars as before, snakes curving gracefully up their structures with glittering ruby eyes. The room had a dusty sort of feel to it and a rather empty one. However, highly advanced Terran medical supplies and machines lay about. The room was incredibly modern. But as it was the room where any injured geonomes would be taken care of if very badly hurt, it was fairly inactive (since most of the geonomes had not been given any dangerous tasks in weeks).
"Sir, does that . . . er . . . genome . . . need treatment?" a confused looking female geonome queried (she seemed fairly surprised to see a genome in the room).
Garland snorted. "No, no . . . He's dead. Carry on," The geonome shrugged and retreated back to another corner of the room. Most of the servants in there were drifting as far away from Garland as possible. The room was only about as big as a small tavern and thus, did not leave much space for staying out of other people's conversations.
"Er . . . Weren't we supposed to be burning Kuja's body?" Drakja inquired. Ummei paled somewhat as he stood loyally nearby. His previous actions remained nonexistent to his unsuspecting superiors.
"Not yet," Garland muttered, gazing quietly at Kuja's limp form on the table. "Wait for him to actually die, first . . . I'm not about burning perfectly beautiful creations alive . . ."
"But Master Garland that . . . that could take hours!" Drakja protested. Garland chuckled.
"Surely you jest? Kuja's limit has almost completely taken over. He has mere minutes at the most," Garland heaved a tragic sigh. "It's such a shame . . . When I created you and my geonomes I was striving only for force. Powerful creatures that could raise Hell for me. I made sure, of course, that my geonomes remained beautiful," he leaned across the table and flicked a strand of hair from Drakja's eyes. "After all, the original Drakja was still a work of art . . . But Saishoja. Heh . . . Nothing could compare to Saishoja's beauty . . . Not even his fair mother, Isra," Garland's face darkened.
"Saishoja was something of an enigma . . . All wanted him . . . All loved him. Except for his father who abandoned him when he was born. But that was during a warring age when handicapped children were typically thrown into rivers and drowned. But Saishoja didn't need his sight to be beautiful. When I studied him from afar I knew that if his eyes were cleared he would be more magnificent than the palest angel. So when I created Kuja – after working with dull, uninteresting genomes like Zidane and Mikoto – I strove only for beauty. I wanted Kuja to be so gorgeous that even the gods would gasp in awe at the sight of him . . . I think I achieved my goal, don't you?"
Drakja didn't know what to say. He gulped, a knot forming in his throat. Garland continued, nonetheless.
"Unfortunately, I was too wild in my selection of a soul. I figured the stronger the better. Sadly, it was the same mistake I first made with you and your people. So now, sadly, I must destroy this beautiful body I've created," Garland gazed fondly at Kuja, gently stroking the shimmering, flawless silver hair. "His genes were fused with the beautiful silver dragons of Terra . . . Kuja . . . heh . . . perfect,"
Drakja looked away miserably. /I wish Kuja would just die already . . ./ he thought to himself. /This is making me sick . . ./.
Garland sighed again. "When I placed the limit on Kuja's life it really quite saddened me. But after he Tranced . . . Oh, how glad I was that I'd done it. He was a walking time-bomb of destruction. See how he has meddled in my plans?"
Drakja glanced back at Garland, a small smile on his face. "Once we're rid of him, we'll be home free, ne?"
"Indeed," Garland chuckled. "With the body out of the way, the soul will be mine. See, some souls give you . . . special . . . powers. Once I have absorbed Kuja's soul, I will be able to communicate with the silver dragons like he and Saishoja could. And if I ever get a hold of Zidane's soul, some of the most unbelievable Trancing skills will be right within my grasp,"
Drakja blushed. He couldn't tell Garland he'd accidentally lost Zidane's soul. Particularly after Triss had come right out and WARNED him that removing the Metsubo during the drawing of a soul would cause it to dissipate into the Mist and become irrecoverable. Garland would probably skin him alive if he found out. Garland's sightless eyes narrowed.
". . . He's almost gone . . ." the Terran overlord gently brushed his fingers over Kuja's brow.
"How much longer?" Drakja queried. He was eager at the prospect of finally having one of his worst enemies out of the way (after all, once Kuja was gone Zidane would slowly but surely suffer the same fate from the botched sucking of his soul). Garland smiled a rather ironic smile.
". . . Well, since you were obviously too thick-headed to have noticed . . . Kuja stopped breathing about three minutes ago and he's had little to no vitals for almost HALF a minute . . . His heart's not beating, so it's only a matter of moments before the body's clinically dead . . ."
Drakja blinked, staring down at Kuja's lifeless form. Boy, did he feel stupid . . . "Oh,"
"So all that's left is for the rest of him to expire and we're done," Garland folded his arms across his chest, tapping a foot in agitation. Drakja gulped. He felt like something was wrong with all this . . . Something . . . Something wasn't right . . . Like there would be some horrible consequence for what was transpiring there in the Fire Shrine. But a movement somewhere near Kuja's side distracted Drakja.
". . . Ummei . . . What ARE you doing . . .?"
Ummei was DEFINITELY acting oddly. He was leaning lightly over Kuja and was – for WHATEVER reason – poking the lifeless sorcerer REPEATEDLY in the shoulder. Ummei seemed intent on something, as if one of these stabs was going to change something that the previous ones hadn't.
Garland was peering at Ummei over the bridge of his crooked nose as if surveying a hideous slug lying pathetically at his feet. Drakja blushed, hurriedly excusing Ummei's actions.
"Terribly sorry, Master Garland . . . Ummei, he . . . he has swings where he becomes dumber than usual and . . ."
"No, no, I'm aware of that, Drakja," Garland cut in, staring intently at Ummei once more. "It was a flaw in his creation that caused a chemical imbalance before he received a soul . . ."
Ummei poked Kuja again, frowning. Drakja still seemed highly embarrassed about his lackey. Garland, however, looked VERY interested and suddenly caught Ummei's hand from across the table. Ummei flinched, then slowly raised his emerald eyes to Garland's. When green eyes met frigid white, he realized, suddenly, what he'd been doing. Ummei gasped and wrenched his fingers from Garland's grasp before stumbling several steps away.
"Ah, s-sir, I'm sorry!" Ummei choked. "I beg forgiveness for my inappropriate actions!"
Drakja blanched. Those weren't the words of Ummei in a STUPID swing . . . Garland was catching on to this as well.
"Ummei . . ." Ummei started upon hearing a name other than "Omega" or "Idiot." "Pray tell, WHY were you poking the Angel of Death just now?"
The omega seemed unsure of what to say. He kept his eyes downcast in submission, his tail curled around his ankle nervously.
"Because, sir . . . You told me Kuja was Barrier Transmigratory. I was curious as to whether or not one who is unconscious could still pass through solid objects. I hoped – though obviously my experiment did not herald success – that I would be able to pass my hand through him whilst he was in his expiring state . . ."
"Stupid idiot!" Drakja suddenly barked. "How could Kuja POSSIBLY Barrier Transmigrate without a soul or conscious thought to TELL him to?!"
"Shut up, Drakja,"
Silence fell upon the room. Other geonomes within the chamber that had been "accidentally" listening in immediately fell quiet. Garland . . . Garland who so respected the replicates of Old Terra . . . had told his highest (since Kuja was dead) creation to shut up. Drakja seemed to stumble on his words.
"Wh-wha . . . Why?"
Garland was walking the perimeter of the metal table towards Ummei who shrunk away at the overlord's icy presence. Garland held an arm out behind himself towards Kuja's body. A faint light glowed and pulsed in his fingers, though no one was sure what it was for.
"Ummei . . ." Garland spoke slowly, as if to a child. "Are you telling me if Kuja had a thought to tell him to pass through an object . . . he could?"
Ummei gulped. "B-by all laws of physics . . . Ah . . . I don't see why not . . ."
"Any thought? It doesn't have to be his own?"
"A-as long as it sends a nerve signal then . . . then no, it doesn't have to be his own,"
Drakja realized, finally, what Garland was doing as he spoke. That light glowing in his hand; washing faintly over Kuja's dying body . . . It was some kind of white magic spell. Drakja almost did a double-take. Moving with the pulse of light in Garland's hand, Kuja's chest rose and fell as if air was being forced into his lungs. Garland was keeping Kuja alive?! Why?!
"So let me get this straight . . ." Garland's aged forehead was wrinkled in thought as he stared past Ummei. "If I, right now, GAVE Kuja the thought to pass through an object . . . then he would . . . DESPITE being unconscious,"
"Y-yes . . ."
"Drakja, put your hand on Kuja's shoulder," Garland spoke without turning to look at the geonome and without lowering his arm. Drakja frowned, confused, and reached down for the Angel of Death's shoulder. His fingers brushed over Kuja's trench-coat and then . . .
"Oh my god . . ."
They went right through. Drakja pulled his hand back as if he'd been bitten. Garland was looking sharply over his shoulder at this sight. A fanged grin was spreading across his face.
"Ummei . . . You're a genius,"
"I . . . I am?" Ummei looked confused. "What'd I do?"
Garland clearly wasn't listening. "Drakja, I need Kuja alive. Could you . . ." his face fell. "Oh, that's right . . . You can't. Ugh, forget I asked. You wouldn't be able to do it if you tried,"
"Do what?"
Garland didn't respond. Drakja felt furious at the idea that there did, indeed, exist something that he wasn't capable of doing.
"Okay," Garland hissed. "If my intuition is correct – and it almost always is – the second Angel of Death and his idiot comrades have managed to escape the prison. Well, heh, I'm going to have QUITE a surprise waiting for them . . . Just you wait,"
"This is going to be SO much fun . . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Okay, last time I checked, Garland's idea of fun was NOT fun. I mean, he's a freaky old man who has nothing better to do than reconstruct dead planets and make pretty peoples (gomen, Kuja). Waha, when you guys see what Garland's up to your hatred level for him is going to SOOOOOOOAR!!! Garland . . . must . . . burn . . . One of these days I'm gonna go all 8- Bit Theater Black Mage on him and just Hadoken his ass all the way back to Corneria . . . or Elfland. Heh, gods only know what they'd do to him there (gets hysterical mental image of Garland hanging upside down over a vat of Mountain Dew: WAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Sticky . . .). Well, anyways, next chapter's taking us back to another location and then, er, back to the Fire Shrine either at the end or the beginning of the chapter after it. And then . . . IT'S THE FINAL BATTLE!!! I'm dead serious, it's THAT close. I mean, we're talking only a couple chapters before the final battle begins. I'd say three more chapters (give or take, ehe) before the finale fight. The final battle's going to be somewhat lengthy, though, because some other things are going to be revealed during it. Then it's just the results of the battle, a VERY short "fix the cliffhanger and make sure people know what happened" couple of paragraphs, and then the epilogue (that finishes off any info we didn't know, shows where everybody went, and also reveals the information that Kuja88 so beautifully figured out). So, yeah, it's coming . . . And if my web-comic isn't up by then, I'm going to post a poem or something as an after-epilogue bonus/filler with the link. So don't forget about me! Stay posted and on top of things! If you have update alerts and stuff, watch out for them! And if not, just keep checking fanfiction.net or look up this story once a week. JUST DON'T MISS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Okay, I'm done ^_^ Review and . . . review (a reviewer told me saying "read and review" at the end of a chapter is stupid because . . . well, you all already read it. And I'm too lazy to argue, lol). So just review. 'cause you already read this. Right? RIGHT?!!!
Disclaimer: Final own don't Fantasy I. Stupid memory. It's a wonder I talking good can do still. Sorry, I'll stop with the random 8-Bit Theater references. But they're so damn CUTE! . . . And evil . . . Heh.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"It's odd that you can get so anesthetized by your own pain or your own problem that you don't quite fully share the hell of someone close to you."
– Lady Bird Johnson
Several minutes passed. The other prisoners watched Beatrix and Zidane closely, waiting. Beatrix appeared to be rousing herself from the depths of some deep, suffocating sleep. She seemed to wrestle with her very soul for minutes, grinding her teeth with pain and coughing. Then, suddenly, she opened her one good eye and lurched up with a gasp.
"Beatrix!" several of the other group members exclaimed with excitement. Beatrix was looking horrified.
"Zidane?! Zidane, oh god, where are you, Zidane, I – " She stopped when she finally spotted her cell-mate lying unconscious several feet away. Then the general blinked and glanced down where she felt a small weight on her legs. Beatrix stared. Shook her head. Stared some more.
"WHY is Kuja sprawled over on top of me?" She gently rolled the limp sorcerer off.
"'cause that's where they threw him . . ." Amarant snapped.
"And by "they" he means the geonomes," Eiko finished.
Zidane was finally beginning to stir as well. Beatrix spun around on the ground and stared at him. The others watched apprehensively. The ex-thief opened one bleary blue eye and frowned.
"How the HELL did I get here?"
"Ugh, must we go through this again?" Lani snarled. Zidane sat up, groaning and rubbing his forehead.
"Crap, what the hell . . .? Where's Drakja?"
Beatrix blinked. "Uh oh. Where IS Drakja? I remember getting stabbed with something, but you . . .?"
Zidane gazed into the darkness for a moment, trying to remember. Then, in one fatal whoosh it all came back to him: the assault, the jealousy, the whispers . . . the Metsubo.
/I started to Trance . . ./ Zidane realized. /Like some hidden power in me forced Drakja away . . . Then he just . . . he just disappeared! But before he did, he . . ./. Zidane felt a cold chill run like icicles up his spine. Something was NOT right . . . But upon spotting the cell across the dungeon, all Zidane's other thoughts were wiped from his mind.
"Oh my god . . . Mikoto, is that you?"
From one of the cells across the corridor a small voice responded: "yes, brother,"
Zidane rose shakily to his feet (despite Garnet's protests from the cell next to him) and moved towards the bars.
"Mikoto, are you alright?!"
"I'm fine . . . for now . . ." the young genome said softly. "Unfortunately, my soul is expected to be drawn some time within the next few hours . . ."
"Oh, no . . .!" Megan murmured from the cage she shared with Vivi. "Guys, is there ANY way we can get her out of here?"
No one spoke. For once, there really seemed no hope. All the cells expect for the ones with ordinary genomes in them were protected by magically muted barriers. One touch from those and you could die. There was no way anyone could get through them. His mind stuck in a sort of zero-space, Zidane stared at the shadow beside Mikoto. He didn't have to ask what that phantom-like form was.
/Kuja's time is running out . . ./ Zidane thought angrily. /How in the world are we going to get ourselves out of this one?!/
Zidane closed his eyes for a moment. He felt . . . oddly tired. Luckily, he opened his crystalline eyes just in time to spot a slight flicker beside Kuja's soul. Zidane stared. "Oh gods . . ." he whispered.
He'd seen . . . himself?! Next to Kuja?! No . . . No, there was only one thing that could have looked like that!
/My soul . . ./ Zidane mentally gasped. /The Metsubo left an escape route for it! M-my soul is drawing itself out! So that's why Drakja was so pissed off . . .! In failing to capture my soul, he caused it to begin dissipating into the Mist. I-I'm a walking time-bomb! A-any minute now I could suddenly lose my soul and . . ./.
Zidane couldn't think about it. No, he couldn't believe that that was how it would end. Zidane's thoughts were racing as he stared blearily through Kuja's ebbing soul.
/But if Taki-Bi manages to stop the Iifa Tree my soul will be secured . . . But only if she can stop it in time . . . And if I die, Garland could still find my soul when he gains enough power to control the Mist. On top of that, if I die the others probably won't be able to save Kuja! All of Gaia will perish and the planets will assimilate!/
"Zidane, is something wrong?" Garnet looked worried. Zidane hadn't realized he'd been sinking slowly towards the ground, overcome with a strange weariness. He felt tired . . . drained . . . like his soul was being sucked from his very body (which it was). He managed to keep himself in a sitting position and nodded faintly.
"Y-yeah . . . Just tired . . ." He couldn't tell them. "But guys," Zidane glanced around nervously. "I-I can't tell you why just yet, but . . . Let me just say this: whatever pathetic amount of time we had before . . . It's just been cut in half . . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When the door to the dungeon opened yet again, quite a few of the prisoners were nearly startled senseless (Vivi looked like he was about to die). Of course, that was nothing compared to the shock of whom was entering . . .
"Garland . . ." Fratley hissed. Garland was walking proudly through the dungeon, his metal heels clicking along the floor as he moved. The black cape that seemed forever a part of his body fluttered and swelled as he walked. The Terran overlord's empty gray eyes were glaring about in a menacing, mocking manner as he observed his geonome's handiwork. Sure enough, right behind him was Drakja (looking quite smug in his master's shadow) and a geonome the crew didn't recognize (and whom didn't look very intelligent, either).
"Well, well," Garland stopped in the section of cells where the members of the crew were being held prisoner. "Look what the geonome dragged in . . . Excellent work, Drakja," The others figured if Drakja's grin got any wider his face might burst. "I trust my little enemies here know how the assimilation works, hmm?" There was no response save the glares of death. "Excellent, then I need explain nothing," Garland clapped his hands together, smirking.
"Master, have you made your plans for the Angels of Death, yet?" Drakja stuck his tongue out at Amarant and Eiko when he thought no one was looking. Amarant gave him the finger.
"Yes, yes, of course," Garland seemed somewhat annoyed. "Drakja, get another geonome in here now,"
"But Ummei – "
"Another one, NOW!"
As Drakja hurried off to complete the orders, the crew members noticed a rather significant droop in the geonome they didn't recognize. They figured the poor sap was the aforementioned Ummei. Despite the fact that he was the enemy, they couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Drakja returned promptly with a geonome, both looking mildly curious.
"You there," Garland pointed at the new underling. "Get that genome over there out of her cell and take her into my chambers. You will lock her in there with no less that fifteen guards outside the door. Make sure at least TWENTY follow you,"
The geonome nodded and began moving towards Mikoto's cell. Mikoto shrunk away as Drakja threw the young man a set of keys. But it was all futile, of course. Despite minor struggling, Mikoto was soon thrust into the geonome's arms and dragged, whimpering, from the room.
/No!/ Zidane thought, horrified. /Th-they're removing her to take her soul! Mikoto!/
"And you, Drakja," Garland continued. "Will be taking Kuja,"
Drakja's emerald eyes widened to considerable proportions. Silence fell upon the chamber. No one spoke for several minutes in the confused disquiet. The geonome soon expressed the very question all in the dungeon were thinking: "Wh-why?!"
"Why, to burn the body, of course," Garland responded as if this were all somehow normal. "Now get him, go!"
Drakja shrugged, closed his eyes, and with a pop had teleported into Beatrix, Zidane, and Kuja's cell without being injured by the barrier. Zidane wanted desperately to fight, but he felt exhausted. Drakja seemed to know this and grinned. Beatrix, as well, was still suffering from the effects of the Metsubo. Drakja roughly scooped Kuja up and over his shoulder and then the two vanished and reappeared back outside the cell. Zidane's tired, furious, burning gaze followed the geonome like a shadow of death that was soon to come. Oh, how wonderful killing that bastard was going to feel . . .
"Ready?" Garland queried. Drakja nodded. "Then let us proceed,"
Garland began to walk from the dungeon as if it were a funeral procession. Drakja trotted solemnly behind him, the near-dead form of Kuja slung over his shoulder.
"You'll be posted here for guard duty after you help me take care of Kuja," Drakja instructed Ummei as they passed. "And don't mess up!"
Ummei said nothing. He was staring at the door. The geonome carrying Mikoto was waiting there for the "cavalry" to come and guard him in case Mikoto tried any funny stuff. Zidane was quite as shocked as Ummei. Zidane had never seen Mikoto look scared or have any emotions resembling fright. But now she was sobbing, crying to be free.
"Ummei!" she shrieked. "Ummei, don't let them take me! Wh-when Drakja used the Metsubo on me before . . . Ummei, it hurt! Help me! UMMEI!!!"
But the other geonomes had arrived, and soon Mikoto's cries had faded away to nothing. Zidane was surprised. Had Mikoto befriended this odd, slow- witted geonome? Ummei looked scared. Soon Garland and Drakja had left. The door slammed shut, sending the dungeon into icy cold darkness. Ummei stood in the middle, still unmoving.
Mikoto . . . Everywhere he looked he saw Mikoto . . . They all looked like her: innocent, doomed . . .
And then it cleared. Ummei's mind shut off; his body numb. He couldn't be a traitor, he couldn't be a hero. But still . . . He knew what he had to do . . .
Without so much as a word, Ummei reached slowly into his hair. His movements seemed fluid, as if he'd practiced them in his mind a million times before. His eyes were glazed, his hands moving of their own accord. All of the dungeon watched him with curiosity. When Ummei removed his fingers, they saw that he was holding a small hairclip from his ponytail. He held the little scrap of metal in front of his eyes, staring at it as if it were more than just a worthless piece of copper. He was holding his breath, waiting. Now . . . Just do it . . .
And he dropped it. Ummei, with a simple release of pressure from his fingertips, allowed the clip to fall gracefully to the ground and hit the dirt with a "tink" before rolling in front of one of the genome's cells. No one spoke or dared to breathe. This odd little act of defiance had taken everyone by surprise. Then Ummei raised his eyes – now clear – and glanced around significantly. He gave a faint smile, a faint wink, and then (after a distant shout of "Ummei! Come on!") quietly took his leave of the dungeons.
Nobody spoke. The hairclip on the floor looked so innocent . . . As if it had just slipped out of somebody's hair one day and no one had bothered to pick it up . . . It looked like it would be buried in dust by the end of the hour and no one would remember it was ever there at all . . . The dungeon was wrapped in silence . . . Then . . .
"Quick, quick, grab it!"
"What are you waiting for, pick up the clip!"
"Get us out of here!"
"What's taking so long?!"
"The clip, fool, the clip!"
"GRAB THE GOD DAMN CLIP!!!"
In the chaos and confusion of the entire crew leaping to its feet and screaming at the cage of genomes nearest to the clip, the dungeon soon became alight with the pulse of frantic desperation. Their one, last beacon of hope . . .
The genomes in that particular, unfortunate cell seemed extremely confused. They stared at the shouting group of newcomers with raised eyebrows and clouded expressions. Soon Beatrix remembered that these were genomes and that they were still becoming accustomed to whom they should listen to and whom they shouldn't.
"Everyone, SHUT UP!!!" the general shouted suddenly. In their surprise, the crew quickly closed their mouths, several even sitting down and staring stupidly at her. Beatrix kneaded her forehead for a moment, savoring the silence, and then moved up as close to her rigged bars as she dared.
"You four over there . . . Do you have names?" None of the genomes in the cage spoke. Eventually, one of them, a female, opened her mouth hesitantly.
"Th-they call me Yuukan, miss,"
Beatrix smiled faintly. "Well then, Yuukan . . . Do you see that clip there in front of the cell,"
Yuukan slowly roved her brilliant blue eyes onto Ummei's hair-piece. She nodded. Beatrix continued, a slight urging in her voice like one would use to tempt a frightened puppy out from under an airship.
"Listen . . . if you pick up that clip . . . you can free us. All of us,"
Yuukan seemed confused again. Simple locks were not something genomes had been taught on Terra even by their merciless "Crystal." On Terra everything was computerized. A locked door was opened by a telepathic call or a password. Not a key or, in this case, a piece of useless scrap metal. Zidane stood watching Beatrix closely, ready to jump in case things weren't working out.
"Okay, first things first . . ." Beatrix said slowly. "You have to at least get the clip. Reach through the bars and just . . . just grab it. Don't worry, your cells aren't rigged like ours. Just . . . stick your arm through – yes ! Excellent, keep going! You're almost there!"
Yuukan pressed her cheek reluctantly against the bars as she shoved her thin arm through the metal rods. Her fingers brushed up against the clip, missed, and then made a grasp for it again. A silent cheer went up in the dungeon as Yuukan's fingers clenched around the clip's minute frame and withdrew it back into her cell.
"Okay, okay, don't everyone get their hopes up just yet," Beatrix bit her lip. "Alright, Yuukan, now you have to reach through the bars again. Do you see that part of the bars that's thicker. There's a hole in the front of it. Stick your arm back through the cage and feel around for the hole with the clip. When you find it, stick the clip into the hole and twist it around inside until you hear a click,"
Yuukan nodded and pulled her arm back into the outer world. She scraped at the metal for a moment before Ummei's hair-piece suddenly sunk into the keyhole. She twisted and turned but seemed unable to open the lock. A nervous tension rose up within the room.
"It's alright, Yuukan . . ." Beatrix whispered. "You can do it . . . There should be an even smaller hole in the hole. Find that, and then we're home free . . ."
Several tense minutes passed. Suddenly . . .
CLICK. The door creaked and swung open with a rusty whine. Yuukan, withdrawing her arm, stared at the door as if it had suddenly turned to gold.
"Yes! Yes!" Beatrix clapped her hands over her mouth in relief. The others were cheering. Even some of the genomes in the other cells were smiling shakily. "Okay," Beatrix continued to instruct. "Now come over to my cell and do the exact same thing. You should be able to see the key- hole from the front now,"
"But don't stick your arm through the bars," Zidane warned, coming up beside the general. "Or you'll get zapped . . ."
Yuukan nodded as she tentatively opened the door wider and crept out. The three other genomes in the cell with her seemed nervous but followed the braver of the four out into the corridor. They seemed suddenly excited to feel ground beneath their feet that was not restricted to a ten by ten square of dirt. Once Yuukan had reached Beatrix and Zidane's cell, she picked the lock and watched the bars swing open. The barrier still fizzled between the rods so Beatrix and Zidane had to edge their way out carefully. Beatrix laughed.
"Yes! Awesome! Here, I'll take over now," she gently took the hairclip and rushed off to open all the cells. As soon as Garnet's was open, the queen flooded out and threw her arms around Zidane.
"Oh, thank goodness you're alright!"
Zidane smirked, rubbing Garnet's back. "It's alright, Dagger . . . Geez, cool it,"
The others were happily stretching as they stepped carefully into the dungeon. The genomes were watching their doors swing open but remained too afraid to come out just yet. Apparently, this was a good thing because Beatrix began talking again once every filled cell had been unlocked.
"Okay, Zidane and my comrades are coming with me. But the rest of you . . ." she glared significantly around the room, sweeping her menacing eye over every genome in the dungeon. "You are NOT to leave here until we give you word. I'm pretty sure that Ummei guy will be making sure no one comes back in here while he's out. Either way, don't even THINK about leaving the dungeons, okay?!"
"It's for your own safety," Fratley added.
"Yeah, that too . . ."
"Gah, what are we waiting for?!" Eiko shrieked. "Let's go already!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
". . . Pity, pity . . ." Garland shook his head tragically as Drakja (with a bit of help from Ummei) carefully laid Kuja's unconscious body down on a bolted metal table in the room labeled "medical chamber" in the Fire Shrine. There were several other geonomes in there, most of them performing menial tasks and glancing curiously at the odd foursome that had just come in when they thought no one was looking. The chamber was fairly large and decorated with those same pillars as before, snakes curving gracefully up their structures with glittering ruby eyes. The room had a dusty sort of feel to it and a rather empty one. However, highly advanced Terran medical supplies and machines lay about. The room was incredibly modern. But as it was the room where any injured geonomes would be taken care of if very badly hurt, it was fairly inactive (since most of the geonomes had not been given any dangerous tasks in weeks).
"Sir, does that . . . er . . . genome . . . need treatment?" a confused looking female geonome queried (she seemed fairly surprised to see a genome in the room).
Garland snorted. "No, no . . . He's dead. Carry on," The geonome shrugged and retreated back to another corner of the room. Most of the servants in there were drifting as far away from Garland as possible. The room was only about as big as a small tavern and thus, did not leave much space for staying out of other people's conversations.
"Er . . . Weren't we supposed to be burning Kuja's body?" Drakja inquired. Ummei paled somewhat as he stood loyally nearby. His previous actions remained nonexistent to his unsuspecting superiors.
"Not yet," Garland muttered, gazing quietly at Kuja's limp form on the table. "Wait for him to actually die, first . . . I'm not about burning perfectly beautiful creations alive . . ."
"But Master Garland that . . . that could take hours!" Drakja protested. Garland chuckled.
"Surely you jest? Kuja's limit has almost completely taken over. He has mere minutes at the most," Garland heaved a tragic sigh. "It's such a shame . . . When I created you and my geonomes I was striving only for force. Powerful creatures that could raise Hell for me. I made sure, of course, that my geonomes remained beautiful," he leaned across the table and flicked a strand of hair from Drakja's eyes. "After all, the original Drakja was still a work of art . . . But Saishoja. Heh . . . Nothing could compare to Saishoja's beauty . . . Not even his fair mother, Isra," Garland's face darkened.
"Saishoja was something of an enigma . . . All wanted him . . . All loved him. Except for his father who abandoned him when he was born. But that was during a warring age when handicapped children were typically thrown into rivers and drowned. But Saishoja didn't need his sight to be beautiful. When I studied him from afar I knew that if his eyes were cleared he would be more magnificent than the palest angel. So when I created Kuja – after working with dull, uninteresting genomes like Zidane and Mikoto – I strove only for beauty. I wanted Kuja to be so gorgeous that even the gods would gasp in awe at the sight of him . . . I think I achieved my goal, don't you?"
Drakja didn't know what to say. He gulped, a knot forming in his throat. Garland continued, nonetheless.
"Unfortunately, I was too wild in my selection of a soul. I figured the stronger the better. Sadly, it was the same mistake I first made with you and your people. So now, sadly, I must destroy this beautiful body I've created," Garland gazed fondly at Kuja, gently stroking the shimmering, flawless silver hair. "His genes were fused with the beautiful silver dragons of Terra . . . Kuja . . . heh . . . perfect,"
Drakja looked away miserably. /I wish Kuja would just die already . . ./ he thought to himself. /This is making me sick . . ./.
Garland sighed again. "When I placed the limit on Kuja's life it really quite saddened me. But after he Tranced . . . Oh, how glad I was that I'd done it. He was a walking time-bomb of destruction. See how he has meddled in my plans?"
Drakja glanced back at Garland, a small smile on his face. "Once we're rid of him, we'll be home free, ne?"
"Indeed," Garland chuckled. "With the body out of the way, the soul will be mine. See, some souls give you . . . special . . . powers. Once I have absorbed Kuja's soul, I will be able to communicate with the silver dragons like he and Saishoja could. And if I ever get a hold of Zidane's soul, some of the most unbelievable Trancing skills will be right within my grasp,"
Drakja blushed. He couldn't tell Garland he'd accidentally lost Zidane's soul. Particularly after Triss had come right out and WARNED him that removing the Metsubo during the drawing of a soul would cause it to dissipate into the Mist and become irrecoverable. Garland would probably skin him alive if he found out. Garland's sightless eyes narrowed.
". . . He's almost gone . . ." the Terran overlord gently brushed his fingers over Kuja's brow.
"How much longer?" Drakja queried. He was eager at the prospect of finally having one of his worst enemies out of the way (after all, once Kuja was gone Zidane would slowly but surely suffer the same fate from the botched sucking of his soul). Garland smiled a rather ironic smile.
". . . Well, since you were obviously too thick-headed to have noticed . . . Kuja stopped breathing about three minutes ago and he's had little to no vitals for almost HALF a minute . . . His heart's not beating, so it's only a matter of moments before the body's clinically dead . . ."
Drakja blinked, staring down at Kuja's lifeless form. Boy, did he feel stupid . . . "Oh,"
"So all that's left is for the rest of him to expire and we're done," Garland folded his arms across his chest, tapping a foot in agitation. Drakja gulped. He felt like something was wrong with all this . . . Something . . . Something wasn't right . . . Like there would be some horrible consequence for what was transpiring there in the Fire Shrine. But a movement somewhere near Kuja's side distracted Drakja.
". . . Ummei . . . What ARE you doing . . .?"
Ummei was DEFINITELY acting oddly. He was leaning lightly over Kuja and was – for WHATEVER reason – poking the lifeless sorcerer REPEATEDLY in the shoulder. Ummei seemed intent on something, as if one of these stabs was going to change something that the previous ones hadn't.
Garland was peering at Ummei over the bridge of his crooked nose as if surveying a hideous slug lying pathetically at his feet. Drakja blushed, hurriedly excusing Ummei's actions.
"Terribly sorry, Master Garland . . . Ummei, he . . . he has swings where he becomes dumber than usual and . . ."
"No, no, I'm aware of that, Drakja," Garland cut in, staring intently at Ummei once more. "It was a flaw in his creation that caused a chemical imbalance before he received a soul . . ."
Ummei poked Kuja again, frowning. Drakja still seemed highly embarrassed about his lackey. Garland, however, looked VERY interested and suddenly caught Ummei's hand from across the table. Ummei flinched, then slowly raised his emerald eyes to Garland's. When green eyes met frigid white, he realized, suddenly, what he'd been doing. Ummei gasped and wrenched his fingers from Garland's grasp before stumbling several steps away.
"Ah, s-sir, I'm sorry!" Ummei choked. "I beg forgiveness for my inappropriate actions!"
Drakja blanched. Those weren't the words of Ummei in a STUPID swing . . . Garland was catching on to this as well.
"Ummei . . ." Ummei started upon hearing a name other than "Omega" or "Idiot." "Pray tell, WHY were you poking the Angel of Death just now?"
The omega seemed unsure of what to say. He kept his eyes downcast in submission, his tail curled around his ankle nervously.
"Because, sir . . . You told me Kuja was Barrier Transmigratory. I was curious as to whether or not one who is unconscious could still pass through solid objects. I hoped – though obviously my experiment did not herald success – that I would be able to pass my hand through him whilst he was in his expiring state . . ."
"Stupid idiot!" Drakja suddenly barked. "How could Kuja POSSIBLY Barrier Transmigrate without a soul or conscious thought to TELL him to?!"
"Shut up, Drakja,"
Silence fell upon the room. Other geonomes within the chamber that had been "accidentally" listening in immediately fell quiet. Garland . . . Garland who so respected the replicates of Old Terra . . . had told his highest (since Kuja was dead) creation to shut up. Drakja seemed to stumble on his words.
"Wh-wha . . . Why?"
Garland was walking the perimeter of the metal table towards Ummei who shrunk away at the overlord's icy presence. Garland held an arm out behind himself towards Kuja's body. A faint light glowed and pulsed in his fingers, though no one was sure what it was for.
"Ummei . . ." Garland spoke slowly, as if to a child. "Are you telling me if Kuja had a thought to tell him to pass through an object . . . he could?"
Ummei gulped. "B-by all laws of physics . . . Ah . . . I don't see why not . . ."
"Any thought? It doesn't have to be his own?"
"A-as long as it sends a nerve signal then . . . then no, it doesn't have to be his own,"
Drakja realized, finally, what Garland was doing as he spoke. That light glowing in his hand; washing faintly over Kuja's dying body . . . It was some kind of white magic spell. Drakja almost did a double-take. Moving with the pulse of light in Garland's hand, Kuja's chest rose and fell as if air was being forced into his lungs. Garland was keeping Kuja alive?! Why?!
"So let me get this straight . . ." Garland's aged forehead was wrinkled in thought as he stared past Ummei. "If I, right now, GAVE Kuja the thought to pass through an object . . . then he would . . . DESPITE being unconscious,"
"Y-yes . . ."
"Drakja, put your hand on Kuja's shoulder," Garland spoke without turning to look at the geonome and without lowering his arm. Drakja frowned, confused, and reached down for the Angel of Death's shoulder. His fingers brushed over Kuja's trench-coat and then . . .
"Oh my god . . ."
They went right through. Drakja pulled his hand back as if he'd been bitten. Garland was looking sharply over his shoulder at this sight. A fanged grin was spreading across his face.
"Ummei . . . You're a genius,"
"I . . . I am?" Ummei looked confused. "What'd I do?"
Garland clearly wasn't listening. "Drakja, I need Kuja alive. Could you . . ." his face fell. "Oh, that's right . . . You can't. Ugh, forget I asked. You wouldn't be able to do it if you tried,"
"Do what?"
Garland didn't respond. Drakja felt furious at the idea that there did, indeed, exist something that he wasn't capable of doing.
"Okay," Garland hissed. "If my intuition is correct – and it almost always is – the second Angel of Death and his idiot comrades have managed to escape the prison. Well, heh, I'm going to have QUITE a surprise waiting for them . . . Just you wait,"
"This is going to be SO much fun . . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Okay, last time I checked, Garland's idea of fun was NOT fun. I mean, he's a freaky old man who has nothing better to do than reconstruct dead planets and make pretty peoples (gomen, Kuja). Waha, when you guys see what Garland's up to your hatred level for him is going to SOOOOOOOAR!!! Garland . . . must . . . burn . . . One of these days I'm gonna go all 8- Bit Theater Black Mage on him and just Hadoken his ass all the way back to Corneria . . . or Elfland. Heh, gods only know what they'd do to him there (gets hysterical mental image of Garland hanging upside down over a vat of Mountain Dew: WAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Sticky . . .). Well, anyways, next chapter's taking us back to another location and then, er, back to the Fire Shrine either at the end or the beginning of the chapter after it. And then . . . IT'S THE FINAL BATTLE!!! I'm dead serious, it's THAT close. I mean, we're talking only a couple chapters before the final battle begins. I'd say three more chapters (give or take, ehe) before the finale fight. The final battle's going to be somewhat lengthy, though, because some other things are going to be revealed during it. Then it's just the results of the battle, a VERY short "fix the cliffhanger and make sure people know what happened" couple of paragraphs, and then the epilogue (that finishes off any info we didn't know, shows where everybody went, and also reveals the information that Kuja88 so beautifully figured out). So, yeah, it's coming . . . And if my web-comic isn't up by then, I'm going to post a poem or something as an after-epilogue bonus/filler with the link. So don't forget about me! Stay posted and on top of things! If you have update alerts and stuff, watch out for them! And if not, just keep checking fanfiction.net or look up this story once a week. JUST DON'T MISS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
Okay, I'm done ^_^ Review and . . . review (a reviewer told me saying "read and review" at the end of a chapter is stupid because . . . well, you all already read it. And I'm too lazy to argue, lol). So just review. 'cause you already read this. Right? RIGHT?!!!