First things first. Sorry it took so long for the updates. But, Tadpole had to visit her Daddy, who lives, like, way out in some God-forsaken Cajun place, so it took a while for her to get back. Thanks for the patience. And, yes, to Lashey, I took my e-mail off and made a new one. I love you, honey, but the ten e-mails a day just wasn't working out. I appreciate that you read the story, but stalking me for an update was scary! Much love, and...everything... just, don't haunt my e-mail!
OK, to the person who asked about Leon, lol, he's just plain Squall in this, because I wanted him and Rinoa to be together. And seems how Rinny wasn't in KH, I had to make him Leonheart, instead. And, to the rest of the people who read the story, thanks, a lot. It's nice to know that people are actually interested.
Sinner's Descent
Chapter Thirteen-Those Who Dwell In Darkness
They stood across from each other, nearly matched in height, nearly matched in hair, but not anywhere near matched in power.
"Do you mean to tell me, Sephiroth, that materia has never been your intent?"
The soft utter from Kuja invoked a raised eyebrow from hisdeadly companion.
"Have I ever stated that I intended to use the Mako for materia?" Sephiroth countered, his voice just as soft. It was Kuja's first warning.
Silence. Kuja studied the other man solemnly, feeling a small inkling of turmoil inside his ever-clicking brain. This presented a whole new obstacle course of opposition. His entirety of working with Sephiroth had also been spent plotting against him, and the outlandish news brought more than a shocked countenace.
"Your ties to the Alliances are now broken?" Sephiroth asked, continuing on as if Kuja had not interrupted him. Kuja inclined his head in a jerky manner, and Sephiroth went so far as to sigh. "Come, Kuja, of what importance is this to you? I have no purpose to dispose of you as I did Kadaj," Sephiroth added, his green eyes narrowing fractionally.
Kuja remained silent for a moment, taking the time to compose a decent answer. "It is simply... Shocking, to say the least," Kuja replied, deciding that it would do for the time being. He was no fool, and he knew Sephiroth was more cunning then he lead on.
"Shocking? I am surprised, Kuja," Sephiroth said, his voice lowering an octave. Kuja felt a cold tingling run along the length of his spine, and he waited for Sephiroth to elaborate. "Not much slips past you, considering how quickly you informed me of Kadaj," Sephiroth added, his face blanking expertly.
Kuja took a deep breath, forcibly calming himself at the warning, yet very cryptic, tone of Sephiroth's voice. He was merely fooling himself into believing there was something more behind the man's words.
"Yes, but, as I said, it was very unexpected. You showed great interest in the book you obtained for the Underground leader," Kuja replied evenly, careful to keep his voice neutral, lest he offend Sephiroth.
Sephiroth waved his hand dismissively, as if closing the matter. "A mere ploy to confuse the minds of my followers," he explained shortly, his voice taking on a sharp edge. Kuja nodded, gesturing at the materia inSphiroth's hand.
"Then what, Sephiroth, is your intent for the Mako? Should you not need it for the Mako, then what purpose would it suit you?" Kuja asked, changing the subject abruptly. Though he did not fear Sephiroth, he was weary to provoke his own death by the man's blade.
Sephiroth was silent as he stared searchingly at Kuja. Kuja did not squirm under his intense scrutiny, but he did feel the same, odd tingling feeling, this time in his entire body.
"To breed," Sephiroth said slowly, his eyes lowering to the materia in his hand.
Kuja raised an eyebrow, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. "Come again?" he blurted, not sure if he had heard his companion correctly.
"To breed," Sephiroth repeated, this time his eyes clashing with Kuja's, which narrowed to slits.
"The same as your mother, and the puppet, Strife," hesaid quietly, the phrase coming outas a statement instead of a question. Hewatched in silent curiosity as Sephiroth lifted the materia in his hands, cradling it gently.
"Yes. However, I will not fail. Such as I was produced from Jenova, and Strife from myself, I will create a new being. One more powerful than any witnessed before." Sephiroth lifted his eyes to meet Kuja's, as if challenging his to disagree.
"Very well. I assume you wish for me to find an able-bodied creature?" Kuja asked, his mind spinning with many incoherent thoughts as he waited for Sephiroth's answer.
"Indeed, it must be able-bodied. I will be at the edge of Mythril Cave in two weeks. Do not fail me, Kuja," Sephiroth added. With that, he turned on his heel, disappearing into the throng of people walking the littered streets of Midgar.
Kuja watched him go, blinking rapidly. There was something, at the tip of his mind... Something Ansem had mentioned to him in passing, something that had been irrelevent then. He narrowed his eyes as the thought came to him.
"I used to study creatures called the Heartless. They were nasty beings, without heart, without soul, without mind. However, they soon became useless, and I abandoned my studies and specimen..."
The Heartless.
"So, anyone got any bright assideas? We been here all fuckin' mornin'," Barret griped, glaring at those seated around the table.
Tifa sighed, rubbing her temples. "I just don't know. We can't really spare anyone, but Cl-I mean, Strife, really wants us to send a few people," she repeated for the hundreth time, finally starting to feel the strain of the meeting.
"Well, why can't he go by himself? I mean, he's pretty strong," Zidane, the messanger for the Alliance, added. Tifa nodded, letting her head fall into her palm as she sighed once again.
"I know, but Gijitsu wants at least three other people. Counting Strife, we need two others," she said, closing her eyes as Barret started in on another round of complaining..
"Who the fuck cares? Let me and Chrono go. We'll find this fucking shit and be done with it," Barret said, sending Chrono a strange look. Chrono looked likely to refuse, but at Barret's heated glare, he snapped his mouth shut, opting instead to nod his head roughly a few times.
"Barret, don't threaten the others into going. This is serious," Tifa said, giving him an exasperated look. He gave her a sheepish, mulish pout, his breath coming out in one, large exhalation.
"Fine, damnit, I'll go, and then you bastards pick someone else. You got ten minutes to decide, or pickin' a name from a fuckin' hat, you got it?" he barked, standing up and shoving his chair back roughly. He strode from the room, slamming the door in his wake, causing the frame and glass-encased pictures to quiver.
"Any takers?" Tifa asked quietly, glancing around the table.
"Kongol will go."
Tifa gave him a startled look, having nearly fogotten he was present. She nodded, however, giving him a grateful smile.
"Fine, then. Kongol and Barret will go with Strife and the rest from Gijitsu. Anyone else?" she asked, not even bothering to look up and confirm as she jotted their names down on a slip of paper.
Not to her surprise, the table remained silent, and she stood up, making her way to the door. "Remember, this isn't to leave the Alliance," she said, giving all of them stern looks. Though she trusted each and every member present, there was never any real way to tell who was who. "Don't be late for work tomorrow!" she added, slamming the door shut.
"You have not completed your tasks. The mercenary and Alliance leaders still live."
"I know," Seifer muttered, clutching his head as the voice whispered softly to him. "But, they won't die. They won't die..."
"That is not my concern. Kill the Alliance leaders! The mercenary must die as well!"
"Why?" he mumbled weakly, feeling a dull, throbbing ache envelope the whole of his head. "I don't understand," he said, his voice coming out in a harsh croak as he stumbled against his desk.
"Fool! Do not question me!"
"But, I don't understand!" Seifer cried vehemently, his voice rising in pitch as he thrashed about his office. His eyes widened as his vision cleared slightly, and he recognized the gold-plated nameplate on his desk."Where am I?" he bellowed, throwing his fist against the nameplate. He watched as it clattered to the floor, and his vision fogged once again.
"You defy me, boy?"
"No, get away!"
"Seifer? Seifer, what the Hell is going on?"
Seifer could hear a distant crash and the sound of something cracking before a hand was on his shoulder. He jerked back, fighting to get away from the fingers that dug into his skin.
"Seifer, what the Hell is wrong with you?" He felt someone jerk him upright in a surprisingly strong grasp and he was presented with the blurred picture of a blonde man's face.
"Gippal?" The name came to him from out of nowhere, and he tried to focus on the face in front of him.
"Seifer, what the Hell? What happened to your office?" the man named Gippal asked, staring around at the clutter with a confused expression on his face.
"Kill him." Seifer felt his hands jerk forward against his will and close around Gippal's throat.
"No!" he protested, watching as Gippal's eyes widened in shock and his fingers scratched at Seifer's hands. "Get outta my head!" he bellowed, squeezing his eyes shut and trying desperately to block the voice out.
"What the fuck?" Gippal said, his voice coming out in a ragged choke. Seifer saw Gippal's knee shoot up, and he felt a spiral of pain start at his groin, and then work it's way up to his navel and stomach.
He dropped his hands from Gippal's throat and clutched his injured parts, grimacing in pain. He felt something else collide with his head, and his vision blurred with tears as he squinted against the light flooding his eyes. He felt a final, solid whack in his neck and he fell to the carpeted floor.
Maleficent watched silently as Jafar's face contorted with frustration and his staff cluttered to the tile. She quirked an eyebrow when he looked up at her with a helpless expression.
"It is too late. I fear that the connection has been lost," Jafar uttered, snatching his Staff of Snakes off the floor and bringing it to close to his face to peer directly into the glowing, orb-like crimson eyes.
Maleficent felt a flare of anger as her impatience grew with each passing second.
"It is broken," Jafar said, a tone of finality in his voice as he once again turned his eyes to Maleficent. The witch stared down at the lanky, disfigured man, her eyes narrowing to slits. "There was intervention," Jafar added hastily, seeing the dangerous glint in the witch's eyes.
Maleficent spared Jafar a curt nod before sweeping from the room. Although she did not miss Jafar's instant sigh of relief. It brought her a small amount of satisfaction. It was good to know that others did not underestimate her powers.
She made her way swiftly to Ansem's office, deciding that a plan of action should be formed, if not executed. She threw the door open without knocking and strode inside, slamming it shut with the butt of her staff before fixing Ansem with a steady gaze.
"Maleficent," he greeted, raising an eyebrow slowly. He put the paperwork in his hands down in a sloppy pile and capped his pen, all the while keeping his golden eyes on her. "May I help you?" he prompted, gesturing with a nod at the mountain of paperwork.
"Jafar has lost control over the boy," she said abruptly, never one to beat around the bush. Ansem clenched his fists at the news, his face remaining impassive as he studied her silently.
"I'm assuming this is recent," he said, standing up and striding toward his windows. He opened the blinds, squinting as the sunlight poured into the room, tracing the dark contours of the corners. He studied the city below for another moment.
"Yes. I was just informed by Jafar himself," Maleficent offered, appearing somewhere near his left. She towered over him in height by nearly half of a foot, but he was not intimidated, as many others were.
"Very well. I'm also assuming that you have come up with a course of action?" he asked, giving her a glance from the corner of his eye. A small, amused smirk surfaced on her face, and she chuckled dryly.
"Are you not the Alliance leader?" she asked quietly, sweeping her hand at the city below. "Surely you can present me with a plausible course of action," she added, returning her hand to it's rightful place on her staff.
This time Ansem was the one to laugh. "In other words, you haven't a clue as to what we should do," he stated, still chuckling as he strolled over to the map hanging on his wall. It outlined each territory in a seperate color. There were only two black ones. Two for Devil's Anthem. Yet, as he traced the map with his fore finger, he observed two blue, that of Northside.
A sneer curled his upper lip, and he turned to face Maleficent with an amused look.
"We will wage war on Northside. Demolish them, take their territory, and start our reign," he informed her, his tone becoming sharp and businesslike as he started back toward his desk. Maleficent moved toward the door, pausing momentarily before twisting the knob.
"Still with your foolish visions of dominance," she said softly, closing the door before he could reply. Ansem shrugged carelessly.
Let the witch think what she wanted. In the end, she would still turn out to be his opponet, and she would be dealt with when the time for called for it. For now, however, she proved a valuable ally, and he was not keen on losing her loyalty.
Strife stared silently at the two sitting across from him.
Kongol was stiff and upright in the chair, his arms folded awkwardly across his chest. Not that Strife could blame him. Hell, he had only seen Kongol in a chair, well... never.
Barret... Strife fought back a laugh. Barret looked just as impatient and ready to move as always. His legs were propped up on Strife's desk, an ankle hooked over the other, his foot swaying in rythm to some silent tune in his head.
Yet they were both here, nonetheless, ready to risk their lives for what they, no doubt, believed to be a foolish notion. He stood up.
"You two know the risks?" he asked quietly, presenting them with his back as he leaned against his chair. He heard Barret snort in a derisive manner.
"That all the fuck you called us down here for?" he asked, his voice filled with annoyance. Strife couldn't contain his laugh this time, and he gripped the side of his chair as he shook silently with mirth. "Ain't a damn thing funny, Spike," Barret snapped, his chair sliding back roughly as he stood up.
Strife turned his last guffaw into an odd sort of choking noise before turning around to face them. "But you understand the risks, right? I don't wanna hear any sort of complaining, especially from you, Barret, and all your-"
"We understand the goddamn risks, Spike. Kongol, ain't that right?" Barret asked tightly, turning to give Kongol a fierce look. Kongol remained silent a moment longer as he stared at Strife.
"Kongol knows the risks," the large man stated gruffly, his eyes never leaving Strife's face. Barret gave an impatient sigh as he turned back to Strife.
"Yeah, yeah, I know, Barret, lemme get to the point," Strife said, waving his hand flippantly as he rolled his eyes. "Look,I know you two are probably only doing this 'cause there were too many meetings, but... I just wanna say, well..."
"Shut up," Barret said abruptly, causing Strife's head to snap up, his brow furrowed. "You don't owe us no damn thanks, Cloud," Barret said, surprising Strife with the use of his former name. "We do it because you ask, because you're our fucking leader. Where you lead, we follow, no questions asked. It's how respect works," Barret said, shrugging his massive shoulders and turning sharply.
"Now, I'm gettin' the fuck outta here. I promised Marlene I would be back before six," he added, opening the door and taking his leave quickly.
Strife was no less than floored. Never, in his life, had he heard so much respect in one man's voice, let alone Barret's. And all this respect... Was for him?
"You are a strong man, Boss. Kongol will gaurd you with his life," Kongol said, shattering Strife's thoughts. A smile fell on his lips as he lifted his head to look Kongol in the eyes.
"Not alot of people can claim to say that and mean it, Kongol. Thank you. I mean it," he said, clapping the man on the shoulder. Kongol gave him a rare smile, inclining his head in a mute form of respect before turning toward the door.
"Kongol will leave now." With that, he was gone, leaving Strife alone with his thoughts.
While he was extremely flattered that two men such as Kongol and Barret respected him so, it disturbed him more than he liked to admit.
What if he was wrong? What if he got them all killed?
"We do it because you ask. Because you're our fucking leader. Where you lead, we follow, no questions asked. It's how respect works."
The thing was, what if he led them wrong? What if he went somewhere which meant following led to their death. He couldn't help but wonder if they would still feel the same.
OK, remember, any mistakes blame on Tadpole, and I'll have another chapter up in a few days. After much chastising by Tadpole, I've realized that I must make slightly more detailed outlines, to keep track of where stuff is going.