Sinner's Descent
Chapter Five-Of Mako And Mayhem
To say it was beautiful was an understatement. It was beyond the words of a human, glistening brightly in the high afternoon sun. It was beyond the words of any creature who walked the Earth, to be exact. It was stunning, spectacular, unfathomable in it's bottomless pit of beauty.
With an irritated sigh, Kadaj mentally berated himself. Honestly, he was starting to doubt his sanity. He took a few steps closer to the glittering Mako pools, reaching out to touch it. He ran a gloved finger of the frozen jet of water, feeling it's slippery, freezing surface. Withdrawing his hand, he was astonished to find traces of color where the Mako had reacted with the cloth. It meant that the thawing was coming even quicker than he had reported to Sephiroth.
He felt a bitter surge of hate at the mention of the man. Sephiroth... How he despised him. Never good enough, never strong enough, never Sephiroth. Pushing the thoughts from his head, Kadaj smiled secretively at his glove. Sephiroth didn't have to know about this unexpected little advancement. Neither did the silent man who always traveled with him.
Stepping back from the Mako, Kadaj, once again, found himself breathless at the sheer presence of it. How could something so beautiful, so untainted, be so powerful? Shaking his head as he mentally pondered the question, he turned to the car waiting for him just below. He might as well go back to Midgar and give Sephiroth a cover report. The man was pushy enough as it was, and without reporting, Kadaj knew he would catch Hell.
As he opened the door to the car, he glanced up at the entrance to Mythril Cave. He could have sworn he saw something move. Squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun, he peered up at the path, straining his neck to see. Shrugging it off and labeling it as the Mako effect, he entered the car, starting the ignition and pulling out.
High on the cliff, a shadowed figure waited, watching the car with incredible patience as it made it's way down the winding road toward Midgar. He was visible if he so much as moved an inch, and he certainly didn't want to be seen by the silver-haired man.
Taking a deep breath, he peeked around the corner. The car was gone now, nothing more than a small dot in the horizon, with a thick cloud of smoke billowing behind it. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he moved toward the shiny stuff that seemed frozen in place next to the mouth of the cave.
"What is it?" he muttered to himself, reaching out to touch it. He felt a jolt of electricity, not exactly harmful, but not benign either, and he withdrew his hand sharply, rubbing it with his other to return the feeling. "What the Hell?" He leaned forward, taking a big sniff. Nope, nothing.No scent, no smell. He narrowed his eyes, watching in awe as the rays of the sun caught on the shiny stuff, twinkling and glistening brightly, much like the light shows held in Sector Five.
Sighing, he crossed his arms over his chest. He had followed the silver-haired guy after a report from his boss had informed him that they were hunting a silver-haired man. Of course, he hadn't known it was the wrong silver-haired man until he had been taken all the way the Hell out here, which was, to him, nowhere. He had no idea where he was, nor any idea what the pretty stuff in front of him was.
Scratching the top of his hair, he leaned his head to the side, racking his brain for any suggestions as to what he was going to tell his boss. Shrugging, he decided on 'pretty, shiny, frozen stuff'. It seemed logical enough. Debating how he was going to get a sample of the pretty, frozen, shiny stuff, his eyes suddenly widened in surprise. How stupid was he? Why hadn't he thought of it earlier?
Reaching his tail out and flipping it toward the shiny stuff, he smiled in satisfaction when the effects of the stuff were nullified. Breaking off a small chunk with his tail, he wrapped it carefully in a piece of his shirt before hopping off the low ledge and making his way back down the trail. His boss was especially picky when it came to being on time, and Midgar was a long way to go.
Serge took a rolling dive, landing to one side of the concrete bench as he pulled a dark-haired girl beside him. Pulling the gun from the back of his waistband, he took wild aim, firing nine rounds until the gun clicked empty. Reaching in a frenzy for another clip, he slammed it in, raising the gun once more.
The girl beside him was trembling in fear, her arms covering her dark head protectively. He barely took notice of the girl as he fired back at whatever force was firing at him. It had been the first time he had ever shot a gun at someone else. The targets in practice were just paper, after all. He was sure he hadn't hit a thing, though he did manage to put a few bullet holes in windows of the nearby shop.
He also had no idea who was shooting at him or why he was being shot at. Turning back to the girl, he tapped her rigidly on the shoulder. "You okay?" he asked hoarsely, not sure if she could hear him over the din of the bullets. Hisown earshurt from the loud popping of the guns, and he could feel his arm shaking, whether in excitement or fear he didn't know.
"Yeah, I'm fine," the girl answered steadily, raising her head. Contradicting her earlier shaking and trembling, she seemed perfectly fine. "Thanks," she said, standing up. To Serge's complete amazement, another round of bullets opened up, and he was forced to tackle the girl to the ground once again. Dragging her back behind the safety of the concrete bench, he came to a conclusion: they were not firing at him, they were firing at her.
He felt the need to shoot suddenly diminish, and he put his gun down. "Why are they shootin' you?" he asked, throwing her a speculative glance as he watched their attackers. Three guys armed with AK's and dressed in black. Signs of Devil's Anthem. That also meant the girl was connected to Underground or Gijitsu, because he didn't recognize her from Northside, and because Northside and Devil's were on truce terms.
"I have no idea," she said quickly, ducking low when a bullet ricocheted off the bench, sending bits and pieces of concrete into Serge's shocking blue hair. Serge narrowed his eyes, not sure if she was telling the truth or not.
Shrugging, he decided that it wouldn't get him anywhere with the shooters. Besides, it wasn't likely that they knew he was in Northside anyways. Taking a deep breath, he let his head rise over the cover of the bench. Immediately, bullets sprayed from every direction, causing him to duck down once again, his chest rising and falling in rapid movements as he struggled for breath.
Looking back over to the girl to see if she was okay, he was surprised, and slightly irritated, to see her pulling out a cell phone, calm, as if they were onlyplaying tag with theguns, and dialing a number rather quickly. Lifting it to her ear, she ignored him as she spoke into the phone.
"Steiner?" After a quick nod, "Yes, it's me, Garnet. I need your help. Yes, it's the Anthem. I believe three of them?" Serge realized the question was directed at him and he absently nodded his head. The name Steiner wasn't familiar, nor was Garnet, but he figured neither were from Northside. "Okay." She flipped the phone shut, clutching it tightly in her hands as she flashed him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, they'll be here shortly," she said.
"They?" he asked, somewhat worried. Underground and Gijitsu weren't exactly on good terms with Northside, and he felt a small amount of trepidation.
She flashed that wierd smile again, nodding her head as she rested casually against the bench. Serge kept his gun cocked and loaded, ready in case the Devil's shooters moved closer. He didn't know how soon the girl's backup would be here, and you could never tell what a Devil's Anthem member was thinking. All of the bastards were crafty and sneaky, too much for their own good.
After hearing more gunfire, he lifted his head, peeping over the bench at the area of the shooters. To his surprise, he saw a man with a tail, another dressed in silver plates, and another, a man with a blindfold over his eyes. Standing up, he lifted the gun, not sure if they were enemies or not. He must have looked a sorry sight, though. There was rock dust all over his clothes, due to the decaying bench, and hair, and even he could see his arm shaking, the gun along with it.
The man with the blindfold strode forward, lifting the girl gently. "Steiner, take care of her transportation," the blindfolded man said quickly. The boy with the tail jumped toward Serge, narrowing his eyes.
"Northside?" the boy with the tail asked. Serge remained oddly silent, not sure if he should answer this or not. The blindfolded man moved forward sharply, grabbing Serge by the collar and shoving him back.
"Run along back to Seifer. See to it that you stay out of Underground and Gijitsu territory," the man added, waving his hand at the entrance to Sector Two. "Now, go."
Serge nodded blankly, turning on his heel and sprinting away. He kept a cautious eye out, though. It seemed that random shooting was apart of today's world afterall.
"You mean to tell me, Hook, that three of our leading shooters were taken down by Underground associates?" Ansem swiveled in his chair, lifting his eyes to give the pirate a burning glare.
"I'm not the one who trained them," Hook snapped, his voice full of contempt. He had been happy when Oogie Boogie had been removed, but he wasn't so sure he was liking the fact that Ansem was leader now. It seemed that nothing happened but more death and loss, due to the arrogant leader's tyrany.
"Yes, but you are the one who deployed them," Ansem retorted, his voice equally as scornful. Hook lifted his chin in silent disdain, his eyes narrowing.
"As you just said, they were the three best," he said calmly, the jab hitting home when Ansem stiffened with insult. He suddenly nodded his head, looking up at Hook with a casual smirk.
"Indeed, they were. Which is why it is now the sole duty of yourself and Jafar to find me ten better shooters. Lure them from other Alliances if you must. When you are finished, fetch Kuja and send him in," Ansem added, cutting off the infuriated Hook's reply.
Hook stomped out of the office, completely ignoring Ansem's order to find the majestic sorcerer. He was in search of Jafar, whom he found lounging in his own small office, sitting comfortably on a single cushion, his Staff of Snakes clutched loosely in one hand.
"Jafar," Hook barked, instantly drawing the man's attention. "We need to talk," Hook said, throwing the empty hall a cautious look before closing the door. "It's about Ansem, and his leadership," Hook said quietly. After a curt nod, Jafar stood up, making his way toward the pirate.
Haschel slammed his fist against the desk in an unusual show of rage. "What do you mean, you can't find him? Nanaki, you are one of my most trusted Advisors! I was assured that you would be able to complete this task!" he ranted, his face reddening in anger.
In truth, it wasn't the simple fact of the mercenary's sudden disappearance that had him so riled. It was the constant battles with the other Alliances that grated on his nerves. A fact Nanaki was fully aware of, giving him good enough reason to remain silent as his boss shouted like a lunatic.
"Are you incapable of such a small objection? Perhaps you would be useful somewhere else, then?" Haschel threatened, the very thought causing his own bones to quake. Nanaki was too much of an asset, something he surely knew himself.
"I assure you, Haschel, everything is being done to capture him. Sephiroth has a habit of slipping through your fingers when being sought out," he added knowingly, inclinging his beastly head in a show of humility.
His only replied was an irritated sigh from Haschel. The older man suddenly stood, making his way over to the glass windows surrounding his office. Nanaki had a heavy suspicion as to what the leader was thinking about as he looked down on the streets of the Sector.
"It's all falling apart, Nanaki," Haschel said quietly. "Everything Strife, Cid, and myself have worked for. The peace, the friendship, the alliances between Alliances, it is all crumbling." Nanaki nodded silently, joining Haschel. Even as they spoke, a ruffian could be seen down below, decked in black, brandishing a knife wildly at two other thugs.
"It was inevitable, the failure. However, I never expected to see it in my lifetime. I assume that if things should turn sour you will continue with the work?" Haschel asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the glass. Nanaki nodded once again, this time voicing his opinion.
"The work will never die, Haschel, not as long as Midgar lives. However, the Mako worries me. Should Strife not handle this, there will be dire consequences." Haschel gave a nod of his own at the beast's wisely spoken, yet tragic, words.
"Yes. I can only trust Strife in his ploy to stop this. After all, he does have that book. I am curious as to what it holds," Haschel added, stroking his chin thoughtfully, much of his former curious self returning as his anger disappated.
"It is unlikely that we will ever know." It wasn't exactly a sad statement, more of a fact. "However, Strife is not beyond reasoning. Perhaps you may send another Advisor to speak with him besides Leonheart. Or perhaps you should speak with another in the Alliance. I hear he has close ties to the Negotiatior," Nanaki added, inclining his head once again, this time in thought.
Haschel nodded at the reasonable offers. Maybe he was getting too stressed out over finding the mercenary. Besides, Strife possibly knew the mercenary personally, which put him at a much better chance in finding him than Haschel would ever have.
He looked down at Nanaki. "I will allow you to take action this time, Nanaki. My patience is too thin for this strenuous work," he added, nodding his head. Nanaki ambled back out the door, as silent and wise as ever, his tail flicking out behind him.
Haschel watched him go in silent respect. He was one of the best in the business, the beast. Though his outward appearance seemed to fool many into ignorance, Haschel had recognized the quiet knowledge immediately, and had offered him a job as Advisor straight away. A smile graced Haschel's wizened face. It seemed that the action had payed off.
And so, this is chapter five! Oh, by the way, to the person who sent me the email asking for Cait Sith to be in this, I am terribly sorry, but NO. I hate it. It was a complete waste of character in Final Fantasy VII, in my opinion. I can't stand to think about the stupid bastard, let alone write about him. Sorry, once again. Just can't do it! And thank you to the faithful reviewers. You don't know how much it means to us to know that our story is being read, considering that it started off as a stupid argument between us! Read and review!