Desolate Gail: Redux

by Zeronova

The walls of Troy have been blasted open by Kiske, and Troy is as vulnerable as the Seikishidan, but personal conflicts still exist. End of Arc II. Updates periodically.

13. Arc 1: Just another day in the service

-X- Introduction -X-
- Desolate Gail: Redux
- Started on: 5-17-2004 / Posted on: 8-9-2004 / Checked on: 3-13-2005
- By: Zeronova
- Chapter 13: Just another day in the service

- Text: Third person, Narration
- Text: First person, Thoughts
- Text: Interjection, the Narrator

X- End Introduction -X-

Just straight, then jump. Don't think about it, don't worry. You'll make it, God wouldn't let me die. I have a purpose, I will live. Just go. Breath in, on three. Alright, come on, get it together. One...here goes, to the jump, simple, just grab the ladder. Two...you'll do it and lead them all further, out of here, saving them, in Kliff's footsteps. Three...GO! Ky took one stutter step, his left foot skidding backward until it found a spot in the cement, and his body leapt forward, running in stride with each step, faster and harder, approaching the elevator shaft from the side. He was coming at it from a steep angle, so he could get through the doors, but close enough to the ladder. Jumping to the ladder was impossible, it was out of reach and directly to the right of the doors, so he had to jump to the side of it, onto the cement, and hope he could grab it as he flew by and not fall, and in the worst case, die. But, he wouldn't...he couldn't.

His final step edged slightly over the lip of the elevator door, bending down on the leg, and catapulting himself forward through the darkness to the elevator, tinged slightly by the reflection of invading light. The walls played his image across them, blotting out the light with his frame, like a spectator, the visceral image upon their eyes played upon the walls, watching and waiting silently for the conclusion. He felt time would never end, it infinitely stretched out as he was in air, waiting to see if he could do it. His own brain working faster than time, thoughts racing through his head. Whether he'd live, if God would permit it, or if God would watch him die, what then? If he died, he couldn't lead, Justice would win the war, humanity gone. If he grabbed hold, he'd lead the Seikishidan to ultimate victory. Could he, would he, he had to, he couldn't afford not to, his life was the gamble, and with his life sat the lives of all of the humans in the world, a lofty sum. The one leap of faith by Kiske was in turn the leap of faith for everyone in the war, both humans and Gears, for if he died, Gears would win, if he didn't, he still had a war to fight and continue on.

He smashed into the wall with all of his forward force, standing still in time on the wall, before gravity dragged him down. His eyes saw the ladder, close, within reach. He told his arm to move, to grab, quickly, yet it moved in slow motion. He tried to climb up along the wall, his feet moving like blocks of cement slipping on the smooth side. His hand finally reached the ladder, fingers passing along the smooth metal, cold to the touch, then they slid off. He panicked, slowly sliding down, time catching up, seeing the small light from the open doors fading faster and faster above him, a few heads poking out to see him. He reached again for the ladder, his fingers smashing onto a rung and slipping off, then reached once more. He felt the rung smash into the bones of his fingers, all his weight supported by it and grunted heavily, twitching around the coldness of the steel hold, a signal that it was the ladder, since his vision was skewed with adrenaline, darkness, and fear. Then, a shattering pain shot up his left arm. Dislocating his arm, he heard a pop, the force of his descent being abruptly stopped by the wrenched fingers on the metal ladder. His body hung limply from the one hand holding on, his eyes shut and clenched in pain.

"Mr. Kiske! Sir, are you there?" he heard Jaygus' voice echo down to him. He tried to move his jaw to respond, but it seemed like it was resigned to stay clenched in pain. He heard another plea of reassurance that Atlas still existed, yet couldn't respond. Come on Ky, you're not out of it yet. He tried pulling himself up on his left arm, but fell back completely limp on the pain racing through his body from the shoulder. He reached across his body, slowly twisting, and each second more agonizing than the last, to get a hold with his right hand. His fingers pried in darkness, feeling along the cement and metal, the fingerless gloves not being the most flexible, though the hide of it had been worn in from everyday use and abuse. There! He gripped around a rung of the ladder with his right hand, letting go with his left, falling down another few feet, weight now on his right arm. Pulling himself from the single limb, his feet found rungs as well, his left arm hanging limply.

"Yeah..." Ky yelled up, catching his breath, recuperating from the agonizing pain. "I'm here." he choked up. A sigh could be heard above of him, the exhaling wind throwing down to him, unfelt, yet a silent thanking. Holding on with his three limbs, he slowly arched his body out, then slammed his left shoulder against the cement next to the ladder, yelping in pain as the bone popped back into its socket. A few seconds of pain, almost to the point of letting go of the ladder and dropping, but he maintained a firm grip. Looking through glazed eyes, he saw the light filtering through the open door, and started to climb. The constant clunk of the Fuuraiken on his hip against the metal with each step was both ghastly yet reaffirming and provided a security to Kiske as he slowly, and solely climbed. Within a minute, he was back to the Floor E entrance, scanning the eyes of all of the soldiers looking back at him. He wiped his eyes previously, not to show that emotion to them. He nodded slowly, then continued up, an unwritten law and good luck token to him and from the soldiers. He was doing what he had to be doing, the thing required by a leader and a man of bravery, showing that to his men.

Coming to the Floor F opening, he saw a small slit of light pass between the two closed shutters, a bit cluttered and playing tricks across the chasm to the far wall, the small slice of light being blotted out and then reappearing and what not, by shadows and dust. Kiske knew there were no Gears behind the door, he could not hear, smell, or see them, especially since the shadow wasn't entirely blotted out, but he still had fear. Like a child keeping one eye open at night to the closet, he didn't want to see what was behind it, but needed to, nagging at him, and that it was his mission, his ultimate goal. There was a small lip of the floor that extended an inch beyond the doors into the shaft, but not enough for Ky to jump to. One thing left, do it Kiske. Hanging on with his right arm, he slowly removed the Fuuraiken with his left. He was right handed, but the shaft was behind and to the left of him anyway, about six feet back, one foot in. He had to blow out the doors, burn through them, anything. Bringing the sword above his head, he took a deep breath in, focusing, getting his mind in order. The sword started to glow a dull blue, the user refining himself for the attack. The Fuuraiken would have reacted either way from the slash and the user holding it, but the enhanced determination also gave it an extra oomph, a side effect that Frederick hadn't considered when constructing them, but ended up being a good little bonus.

He brought it down in one fast slice, a small crescent left in the wake of the slash that moved slowly outward, the ends falling down into the center, getting faster the more compact it got, until it was a small crescent, pointed at the top and all of the lightning trailing behind it like a comet, trying to catch up, surging around and through to the top. It pounded into the door with no effect, the blue illumination seeping into it like it completely floated through. Ky was baffled, how could this happen? A small twitch of electricity jumped on the panel, across each side, then it was all dark again. A low sizzle rumbled through the corridor, echoing down and about, filling every crevice with the wave of sound, progressively getting louder, then showing itself. Small sparks emitted around the edges of the elevator shaft, starting from the point of impact, then running the length until they met back in the center.

"Damnit..." Kiske mumbled. He himself didn't naturally curse, he was most opposed, and that the Bible condemned those who spoke foul words in contempt. But, in certain conditions, under all of the weight of the world, and exhausted, he let himself slip, a secondary Ky hiding inside coming out. He himself knew it was there, an inflamed Id waiting to supercede his Ego, do duel with each other for reigning superiority in the psyche of Ky Kiske, but he never let himself go too far, never letting that dark self come to fruition, though he broke the surface every so often.

The sides of the elevator touching cement melted themselves, pooling onto the ground, then hardening, the intense heat and electricity not having another conductor, and simply welding itself to the ground. Come on Kiske, now what? Darton...but can I trust it? I have to... He slowly climbed down the ladder, evaluating what he should say and do for the help of the one he disliked. His eyes were mindlessly looking down at his feet, which went rung lower and rung lower, deep in thought, until his feet were basked in golden light and his body being dipped in with every step down. He pivoted his head out to the four looking in on him, and focused on Quint, the light filtering around him, making Ky squint.

"Darton, I need that," he said without emotion, very coolly and professionally, a bit of fear lingering under his voice, though concealed.

"Oh really?" Darton said, motioning to the sword he held lackadaisically in his right hand, hanging the edge over his shoulder. "How do I know you'll say its property of the Seikishidan and not give it back?"

"Either I use it, or we don't get out of here. You'll get it back." Kiske said, his sentence trailing off slowly, the echoes making a more profound reminder in Quint's silence to think. "In plus..." Ky whispered "You owe me." he said with a smirk, referring to yesterday when Quint took a hold of the Fuuraiken. Darton looked to the side, making a tsk sound, thinking, then looked back at Kiske, realizing that he really had no choice. He flipped it around, holding it by the blade, extending the grip to Ky in the elevator shaft. He leaned around the corner, palm on the outside of Floor E, so if he was falling inward, he'd just push backward, and the other soldiers also would have helped him, if he needed it. He stretched further, one leg coming off of the ground, his toes his only connection to the ground. Ky reached out with his left hand, Fuuraiken in sheath now, grabbing the grip slightly. It fell in his weak hands, clanging against the ladder below him, only his index and thumb around it. He gasped, looking back at Quint who was equally startled, then Kiske slowly wrapped more of his fingers around the odd blade until he had full control. "Thanks..." he muttered, and then ascended into the darkness.

A set of slow, monotonous clang clang clang's on the ladder, and Kiske was now where he was previously, looking at the now deformed door. I hope this thing has some massive power behind it...well, it should, considering where it came from. He brought it above his head, like he had before, and swung it downward, the same motion he had done with the Fuuraiken. His arm rested by his side, the slash completed, waiting for something. Nothing happened, silence filled the corridor, held breaths of those listening intently below. He opened his mouth to question what was going wrong, to himself or down to Quint, when the air from his lungs was sucked out of him. He was jerked slightly, hanging firm on the ladder, all of the air around him being vacuumed to where he slashed and propelled forward, like an invisible battering ram. The doors caved inward at the seam, bending inward in a circular fashion, the metal screaming as it was beaten upon. The torrent ended as quick as it had began, and the air sat stale and still, seeping back to where it had been sucked away, like nothing had happened. He swung again, bracing this time, and again, each time the metal giving more leeway, surrendering more of itself to the overpowering enigmatic sword.

Ky breathed heavily, the lack of air coupled with the furious swings, admiring his handiwork. The left door lie about five feet from the elevator shaft opening, the right bent upward from the bottom, crushed on the side, and crumpled in places.

"It worked!" Kiske shouted below euphorically. Tossing Quint's sword onto the base of Floor F, Ky jumped next, missing with his feet, but his hands finding a firm grasp upon the inch extending into the shaft. Pulling himself up and out, he stood up slowly upon Floor F, a proud air floating off of him, almost completely vindicating the pain of the gash on his back. He had done it, he was up. Glancing around, he picked up the sword, and then went to the railing, where four heads looked up at him. He gave a genuine smile of accomplishment and happiness, Jaygus nodding in confirmation, whispering "Good job, sir". Ky walked away from the railing, into the nearest dorm, F-134. Stepping in slowly, the light filtering behind him, he quickly got to work, bashing off the small padlocks on the Seikishidan issue lockers. Rifling through garments and tossing a few aside, he came up with a few extra Seikishidan issue garments, bringing them out into the hall.

Every part of the Seikishidan uniform was useful and helpful. They made it so that if you needed to survive, you had enough. I said before a standard issue Seikishidan sword could, under right circumstances and uses, conduct enough magic to start a fire, though the old methods with stick-and-brush was still learned. The suit was made of Nomex, a material that was basically a burned cloth that was rewoven into their uniforms and would never catch fire. It could burn, but the wearer would never be engulfed in flame. Also, it was interwoven with a small metal wiring, for added protection (very little), and strength. The uniform could be made into a shelter, the pants used to dry and cook food, and many more uses. Entire manuals were devoted to learning things to use the uniform for in cases of emergencies, and it was meticulously planned out, every piece and garment, while upholding the monk look.

Stringing together the few shirts, suit tops, pants and garbs, he made a rope. They wouldn't rip, unless they were in excess of three hundred pounds of weight on them. And, each tied into each other gave more weight allowance and extra tension to hold it together. Throwing the end down to Floor E, he tied the other end to the railing of Floor F. Immediately, they each climbed, one at a time to the top, where Kiske helped them up and over. Skip ahead a little...

They all found footing on the ground, looking around at the elusive Floor F, even Quint. Ky helped the last soldier up, with the added support of Jaygus and the lieutenant. Quint took a few steps toward the sky light in the distance, taking in every thing he saw through his jaded brown eyes. He turned around, hearing the plunk of the private on the floor, thanking the soldiers around him. Ky dusted himself off, talking a little with the other soldiers friendly, yet with an exuberant air of accomplishment that something finally went right. Darton approached him, his hand out, palm up, looking square at Kiske. Knowing what he meant, Kiske slowly nodded his head to the side, his euphoric demeanor suddenly being shattered by Quint, not surprisingly.

Picking up the sword from its lying position on the wall, he sheathed it through his belt, the awkward design fitting no sheath. He rested it between his belt and hip, blade exposed, but not in any danger to him, as long as he didn't fall on his side with it sheathed, or it'd go through his leg. The shape of it, a standard Seikishidan grip and hilt, the white re-enforced plexiglass hilt, egg shaped, the grip one solid piece that came up into a U shape, hooking into a big circular oval in the center, same as the Fuuraiken and all of the other standard issue sword. The metal folded around the center egg, welded into the handle and egg, which was also interlocked with steel bolts, welded to each other again. The blade seemed to melt out of the white standard, slowly turning to a shiny steel from the white as the length of the blade reached out. On one side, it was blunt, about three-quarters inches thick, a blunt battering side. The opposite one looked like a monster had taken three big bites out of it, the three small arcs in the sword giving it a somewhat serrated edge. Each one progressively arced backward more, until the third arc touched the back end, forming a stabbing point.

"Let's get going, Kiske." Darton said, taking his first few steps while finishing slipping his sword into his belt. He was breaking up the short moment of deserved praise between the soldiers to Ky, whose expression changed back to a dazed stare forward from his slight grin previously, his childish self being exposed, and now just canned back up and thrown into storage, among hundreds of cans, waiting to be found. Looking at the three around him, he nodded, and took his few steps forward, following Quint. About an hour later of slow, plodding walking, covering only about a mile in an hour, they found themselves standing before the mangled skylight.

"It's so close..." Kiske said, leaning over the railing, looking closer, the drops of dew slowly falling from one of the beams that had been bent , water pooling in its flat surface and trickling off.

"But we still can't get to the bitch." Quint re-affirmed. "So...how?" he asked, not exactly as derivative or violent at Ky as he usually was, mainly since if they couldn't find a way out, none of them were getting out, and he wanted to be rid of this place, put it behind him.

"Hmm...I found those supplies in some dorms." Ky said, nodding back the way they came, the rope made of garments. "Maybe we can find more."

"Good idea, I'll go search." Jaygus said, almost seeming anxious to leave. The other two soldiers affirmed that notion, heading off to scour through some dorm rooms, leaving Kiske and Darton alone, looking at the sky light, leaning on the railing.

"You're not going?" Darton said amused.

"No...I want to think," he said slowly, pushing off of the railing, walking to the wall and putting his back to it. He stood, his eyes glazed and deep in thought, then slowly slid down to a sit. Quint swiveled his head and turned his body to watch him the entire time, that amused, nonchalant look on his face.

"Darton..." he said slowly, looking up at him, a few seconds between his response, Quint looking at him with muffled interest. "Do you know what the deal is with that sword of yours?" he asked slowly, methodically.

"Nope. I just mistakenly picked this sucker up. When I ran into the warehouse, I knocked myself into a crate, broke the wood bitch, couldn't see, picked up what I thought was the Gear sword I was using, and found out I had something else when I got dirty with a few of them."

"There's a reason it was there, you do not deserve to have it." Kiske said in the same tone as before, condescending and informative.

"Oh, is that so? Is there anything I am worthy of in your damn opinion? I don't want to hear your shit of why you don't like me, because trust me, it's mutual."

"Besides that, there is another reason." Kiske said with a smirk, bypassing the part of how he is unworthy of such a weapon from an organization of God, which he has disgraced and abandoned.

"And what's that, Kiske?" he said, a feigned interest lined with malice.

"It was put into that warehouse in 2173, along with the rest of them. They were special swords, used by the highest-ranking sergeants. It wasn't who; it was a matter of resources. However many we had, they went to the highest tier, and if left over, randomly selected from the next level lower tier of sergeants, and so on. They were an experiment"

"I could tell that much, considering the whole tornado crap going on with it."

"Let me finish" he said with an edge, a quick decisive stab with his tongue. "As I was saying, they were sealed away. They were created from the same blueprints that Frederick manufactured, the U.N. using a bi-partisan manufacturer, hand made, by two different sets of people, one going to be used, the other rejected. They were built, with a few adverse effects. What they controlled was completely up in the air, figuratively speaking, considering the men who made them had no idea how Frederick harnessed specific things to each weapon. The weapon that the U.N. picked to be the prototype one only won because the former one, made by the separate team of men, ended up killing themselves while trying to harness and infuse magic to the swords, unsure of Frederick's blueprints as well. The swords, when put into use with the first few batch of sergeants, killed all of them. A few would wear the user down until he died, sucking the life from him. Others backfired, unleashing unwanted things upon everything near. One of them even imploded on itself, the metal bending in on itself, user taken with it. A few were total failures, just average swords of steel, none of the properties of the Frederick designs. That was one of them." Kiske said nodding to the weapon hanging from the lazy fingers of Darton, who was looking straight at Kiske with an interested smug smile on his face, both of his elbows resting behind him on the railing.

"So, you're saying I'll get killed by it, eh?"

"I didn't say that. Some of them worked, but they just couldn't be relied on. Also, the U.N. didn't want to reproduce the Fuuraiken and Fuurenken, since they were the Seikishidan keep sakes, as well that they simply could not, all of the things needed for them and one with enough knowledge of their true natures didn't exist. These, the original swords, weren't made by the U.N., despite what they say." Ky had grabbed Quint's attention for real this time. "The U.N. claims they made them, to ease the publics ideas, but they found them. Frederick made them before he died, the U.N. recovered them sometime after the incident where he disappeared, as well as the blue prints, like Santa Clause dropped a present for them. They locked them up for years and years, until they gave them to the Seikishidan, spouting the lie about they made them from the blueprints. If the failure of that streak of weapon" Ky nodding to Darton's "tells you anything, it's that we don't know enough about magic, yet. And, we probably never will, because of the damned beasts things that come of it...".

"Back onto the point though" Ky said, his tone changing back to being flat, his voice inching up in emotion and anger previously. "That must have been one of the working swords, I guess. Either that, or you'll die soon, for some odd reason. The life sucked from you, extreme exhaustion, spontaneous combustion, whatever. But, that one seems clear it is a functioning one, it stood the test of time and use. I was hesitant to use it earlier, thinking it might backfire on me, but after using it, I think that it is indeed a working one. Lucky that you picked up the right one in the darkness."

"Could God have wanted me to?" Quint asked, a bit of a backward insult upon Ky.

"...Possibly. That's classified information though, that weapon doesn't technically exist." Ky conceded, not liking how Darton cornered him. He looked away, seeing the soldiers walking out of dorms, finding a new one, arms full of items they dropped in the hall to pick up on their next journey. Kiske looked back at Darton again then, Darton's glance now focusing on what Ky was. An awkward silence sat between the two, not making eye contact. A few minutes passed, the echoes of footsteps and chatter between the private and lieutenant floating to both of their ears, before finally their own voices were heard.

"Hey Kiske, how does it feel?" Darton asked slowly, whispering almost.

"What do you mean?" he asked, slightly off guard for the question.

"Being the leader, taking all the shit from everybody, having to do the right thing all the time. How does it feel?" Darton asked, trying to conceal he was actually asking Ky something not in vehement settings or in argument, but personally.

"I...I...don't know how to answer that." Ky stammered, a bit confused as to why Darton would ask that of anything. "Why?" Darton suddenly seemed offended, shifting his weight off of his right leg and to his left.

"Well, I don't like extended silences. Trying to start a conversation, jeez. Screw that then, Kiske. I'm going to go find some food, someone probably stashed some in a locker." he said, a disgust in his voice. Kiske instantly knew that he had the chance to establish some trust, some middle ground, friendship, in the least, with Darton, and he blew it. The genuinity behind Darton's sentiment was looked upon too cynically, and it blew up in his own face.

"It's heavy" Ky said flatly, but loud enough so that Darton would hear it over his echoing footsteps. He stopped suddenly, another awkward silence for a moment before he turned around to face Ky, who was still sitting against the wall.

"It's heavy?" he asked, confused a little.

"Yeah, like I have to hold the world all on my back, and if I do one thing wrong..." he sighed, then continuing "the world would topple off of my shoulders, and everyone would die, it would be over and dead. I would be held accountable for all of those people, the survival of mankind, and no one, not even God would forgive me, and if He did, I couldn't accept it. It's heavy..." he finally said, his boyish side shining through. He was only sixteen, yet he had so much to do and live up to, it was only natural that he was uneasy about it all.

Darton stood for a second, digesting what Kiske said. Then, he shot Kiske a smirk, a small one out of the side of his mouth, turned and continued walking, turning into the nearest dorm room, the sounds of lockers opening reaching out to Kiske. He took a deep sigh, sitting against the wall, and leaned his head back, his blonde hair falling flat over his face, eyelids concealing the oceanic eyes he had acquired from his unknown parents. He had salvaged what he could from Quint, somehow he had, and it felt somewhat good. He smiled at Ky, he gave him recognition, more than the edged pursuit of each other's patience until one cracked, it was somehow...nice.

-X- Author's Notes –X-
- Zeronova's Notes:
- I like this chapter, I enjoyed writing it. Not only does it give some interesting back-story, I feel I developed both Quint and Ky more, as well as leading up to the big bang of Arc I. Stay tuned, next chapter, we're in for a doozy. A little bit of a side note, but every time I write a chapter, I listen to the entire Yellowcard - Ocean Avenue CD, sometimes twice. It flows, helps me write better. Another tid-bit, I wrote this July 23rd, and Chapter 12 on July 22nd, and Chapter 11 on July 19th. Ahead of schedule. ) Oh yes, I am doing some MS Paint masterpieces of the Seikishidan H.Q., the sword, etc., if my descriptions confuse you (I confuse myself sometimes...). I will post them as I complete them, so stay tuned.
-X- End Author's Notes –X-