-X- Introduction -X-
- Desolate Gail Redux
- Started on: 5-17-2004 / Posted on: 8-16-2004 / Checked on: 3-14-2005
- By: Zeronova
- Chapter 14: I see you

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

X- End Introduction -X-

I need to have a hearty talk with you, my reader. I haven't, in the past two chapters, given you a piece of my mind, but I think now is a very pivotal time. Especially considering the recent developments in my morbid tale. But, despite the five survivors and their plight, there is more to be said and done, along the lines of who I am and why I tell this story, not anyone else through any other way at any other time. I tell the story because in a world such as this, I am privileged to be allowed to know how to write fluidly, and commit these events to novellization, something far too discarded nowadays. How many books are published, how many movies made, how much music? The answer is none. Absolutely none. The war makes it so no one can, no one dares too. If you have time to write, time to direct and act, time to sing, you don't deserve to be a human. You need to fight for survival, help continue humanity, make sure that we are preserved. Now, you might ask, what about the women? Women raise families to fathers who have either not signed up for the Seikishidan, a very looked down upon action, or ones who have survived their tour of duty, spanning fifteen years, and then every year from then on is a compensated year. The first fifteen do not pay, they simply are considered service years, since the Seikishidan provides everything. Past fifteen, the soldier is considered a veteran, a true soldier, and is compensated in the form of World Dollars, an advent of the U.N. The pay isn't much, but if you stay in for maybe four, five years more, never spending a cent since you don't need to, well, that's a lofty sum.

You might ask, who would risk their lives, signing up, and then serving past fifteen years? Jaygus is a prime example. His service, started at sixteen like Kiske, and works on compensation, not to mention that his personal history is a bit...varied, something I am not going to tell at this point. It's major in his character, I think you as readers should be tortured to know all the nuances about the characters, the why and the how, especially a few other mysteries. Makes me writing this, and you reading it, more fun. I may be this world's only encyclopedic writer of these events, but at least I'll make it a lot easier to read than a real encyclopedia (Extremely rare, most destroyed, except for those in the U.N. vaults, heavily guarded and censored as well, which I have heard catalog history and things, yet do it in the most unapproachable way).

Anyway, back to my initial sentiment. Who I am...well, you know that I knew Darton, and Kiske, I met them, talked to them, and I also know a bit more than I should about a few things. I went to a library in Italy, grabbed three books, those were highly influential to me. But, you don't know my gender, my age, my name...and I will not tell. At the end of this tale, you should know who I am, but I will not say. I am a person living in this world, torn and battered, trying to just find my way, and found that between the two I knew, and this war, the events that have happened and will happen in the future chapters, could not go without documentation. To whom I write this...I don't know. No one reads books nowadays, and no one would read what they know happened. Maybe I write this for people decades and centuries from now, to look back and say "The Crusades against the Gears...there was one novel, that told what happened, the truth, sort of. It may not be the best, but is all we got." Maybe that's my goal, to do what no one else will do and do it with my own style, since who is to defy my word, if no one else says it isn't true? Oh wait, I sound like someone a Seikishidan officer should know. When God told Paul the history of man, for him to write God's word in the Bible. Could Paul have lied, changed certain events? Maybe eschewed some of the facts, made up parts, left others out? Did God really tell Paul to write those things, or would he be considered the best novelist of all time, since his book is still being read 2200 years from its inscription? Maybe in a thousand years, they will decipher God from my writings, change what I say from being an objective viewpoint on the war, how God factored in, and make it a Newer Testament? The Old, the New, and the Newer Testament. Make it a nice trilogy of books, a fulfilling afternoon read.

Though, I hope it is viewed as a novel, not as a gospel. And, that is where you, my reader comes in. Take this tale as something to be read with an open mind. I know that in times like now, either you believe in God whole heartedly, and then there are those who do not. Those with extreme faith outnumber those without, since the belief and faith keeps them going in a world with nothing else, and by that token, I should be religious, yet I am not. I take God with skepticism, I acknowledge He is there, I like the guy, He's not too bad, but I don't think that He is as cracked up as He is said to be. I mean, hundred year war, against His people, no help? True, God let Jesus die, God let atrocities at Goelbthe, He let heathens believe the wrong things without changing them, He let the Holocaust happen, He even made Hell...how could He just sit there while we, his people, are annihilated?

But, back to Hell. He threw Lucifer from Heaven, right? Cast him out, and then made Hell for him to stay in for his malicious actions, correct? And, they say God has foresight, He knows everything, what you think, what you will do, what you will be, how you will die, whom you were born from, whom you kill, whom you save. So, He knew Lucifer would betray him, He knew He would make Hell, He knew all of it, yet He made it. Did He do it so He would have an excuse to throw all of the human souls years and years after those events? Or, did it slip past His omnipotent vision? Did the Gears somehow edge off of his radar, the Crusades? For those who die, does He automatically say "This soul dies at four years because of a Gear raid" or "This soldier lives to be 67 and die of old age"? If so, what's the point of living, despite running your pre-destined track? Does God want you to think you have control, and then let you do whatever it is you think your decision is? Does He know that a person will hate Him, yet makes him anyway? How could He make those decisions, make souls He decides will go to Hell before occupying a body? It just completely rakes my brain to think of how He makes those decisions, how He could be able to, or that we, as humans, manifested Hell, a God, a Heaven, and all of these things to reassure ourselves in troubled times. I wouldn't doubt it, since I've no proof God does or doesn't exist. I mean, why else would He let…can't say, give up plot, but you'll know what I mean by the time I end my story. You'll know. But, back to God, how? Simply, how? Who gave Him that power anyway? He was the first, so did He see it and claim it off of the shelf? I could be God, and take up sword, and kill some random person. But, was I destined to kill him then, despite that I did it out of desperation or not? It really makes me think, and I hope you do too. And, if you read this, they didn't cut it out, and if you don't, well, take a guess. Enough of my rambling, we have a story to get back to.

"Well, these are my finds, sir." Jaygus said, walking up with arms full of items. He dropped them next to the sitting commander, who looked up with inquisitive eyes, knocked from a daydream and most likely, praying. Darton would have accused him of dozing off, if he were there to do so. The items dropped with a soft thud, the morning passing slowly and briskly above, though lingering, not past ten o'clock. Small purple clouds, the vaporizing sunrise fleeting its way from them could be seen out from Kiske's slight angle of the sky, small blades of grass growing around the dome falling inside of the hole, as well as blocking his view of the sky, though it only made it more of a testament to God's creative beauties. Standing up slowly, stretching out his aching and exhausted limbs, he took a second to let his blood flow freely again, his right leg a little stiff, and his back bothering him, considering he had a giant slash across his shoulder blades. He arched his shoulders back for a stretch, and winced forward. Some things he could and couldn't do, that being a couldn't.

He knelt down at the items, sifting through with one hand, Jaygus watching to see if Kiske approved. His hand threw aside clothes, personal trinkets, one Bible that had been wrapped up in a shirt, and a few other things. Not much to work with, but he could only blame himself. The strict Seikishidan laws prohibited taking things from any places of the Seikishidan for personal use outside of its designated areas, except for food, which wasn't to be stashed anyway. Extra clothes were about the only thing that they were allowed to have, since they were issued only one sword, one pair of gauntlets, one pair of boots, and everything else non-clothes related. For clothes, they had on average three sets of uniforms, but they could get more by going to the laundry room on Floor B, which didn't require anyone to give name or identification, just get what you need, and get out. Technically, a soldier could get upward of twenty shirts, if he needed, but then others would notice, as well as he would, and should, be embarrassed by such a thing.

The other two soldiers appeared with likewise garments in hand, not much besides clothes, Bibles, and the occasional personal ornament, ranging from pictures of family, necklaces, heirlooms, and the like. Kiske equally sifted through them to no avail. Come on, there's nothing here. We can't make a rope out of clothes enough to get out of here, much less would it be practical. We need something else, someway out of here, but I cannot tell them that, it'd break morale; it'd destroy what leadership I have. Think of something, think of it quick. Before Ky had adequate time to say something to their inquirious faces and gazes, he heard a voice behind him.

"I think I found something." a voice beckoned from behind. Kiske turned to face it, and saw Darton standing firm, content in himself. Ky's expression signaled he wanted to know, but to Quint's silence it was nothing. Finally, Atlas stood up and walked over to him, his stature easily asking the question what. A slight smirk spread across Darton's face, having the almighty king among men walk towards him before showing his treasures. "Here." he said, outstretching a previously closed fist, to show the find.

"...What is this?" he asked, sifting through with one finger, the other palm holding it.

"Seems we got a pack rat," Darton said, nodding to a room behind him. "That's the most of it. Some food, a necklace, some old card with writing on it..." he said, picking out the piece of stiff paper, a picture on one side, the other writing sprawled across it. "Whatever it is, it seems his name was...Martin, and was 'dear'." he said smugly. Ky heard the plod of footsteps of the other three approaching, and as he did, he picked out the necklace among the items, and stuffed it into his pocket, looking at Darton with venomous eyes. His glance was returned with one of indulgence, seeing what Kiske did to seeing it. The footsteps behind stopped, and he could hear their breaths and smell them behind him. He turned abruptly, Darton holding his hand downward to drop the spoils into Kiske's own palm, hand now full with the small pieces of food.

"We split it among us." Ky said simply. Small pieces of beef jerky, an apple on the verge of being spoiled, and other small pieces. Ky looked over his shoulder to Darton, and nodded at him. Quint obliged, and walked over, each picking pieces out of Kiske's outstretched hand. Each had had very little to eat in the past day, and the constant fighting only drained their energy even more. Each bite was like salvation itself, and they enjoyed it more than they would have ever done to anything else. Even the rotten apple, which was taken a bite out of, and passed down, despite being bruised and brown, as well as a bit squishy and having the disgusting puss coursing through it on the fermentation side, was devoured, core and seed too. Within minutes, it was gone, and they all were still ravenous with hunger, the small morsel of food only putting their minds deeper on finding more. But, they had to get out of first, that was priority.

"We still need to find a way out, don't waste time because we just ate." Ky said, scanning each of their faces. "Let's move." They nodded, and went back to searching. The lieutenant took the first steps around to walking around to the opposite side of Floor F, see if anything was there. It only further reminded Kiske of what he was reading yesterday morning, a document on renovating the base to make three interconnecting walkways across each floor, at a quarter length each, so one didn't have to walk entirely around to get to the other side. It was too costly, would have taken too many supplies and time they couldn't spare, as well as being "a useless addition", he remembered he mumbled to himself. Yeah, useless...

He swiveled his head to find the nearest dorm, and instantly entered, standing in the darkness, his arm holding the door open as he scouted out for the lockers that should be in there. As he did, the light floating in seemed to be blotted out. Looking back to see what it was, he was pushed forward, balance almost lost. The door shut behind the person, Ky stumbling against a locker, and then standing up in no light to look at the assailant.

"Why?" the voice asked. Instantly, he knew the gruff voice, yet an underlying smugness about it, a sincerity held underneath yet covered over by dirt, not much grown into being a true voice to distinguish the man, but almost.

"Darton." Kiske spat out, like oil was in his mouth.

"Why did you take it?" he asked. "And then, hide it. Your back was to them when they walked up, only I know. I won't tell, but why?" he reiterated, a tepid anger in his voice, seeking answers.

"Because...because of something a long time ago."

"Bullshit." he said immediately.

"Listen, find some crap to get us out of here, and get out of my face." he said authoritatively, stepping forward in the darkness to Quint, knowing where he stood, and knowing Quint's eyes were about an inch above his, but still standing firm in front of him. He wasn't going to be made a fool of or told what to do, or answer what he didn't need to. "Get out," he said again. He heard a shuffle of feet, then saw Darton opening the door, and walking out slowly, his eyes over his shoulder, transfixed on Kiske.

Slowly, Ky stepped back from his imposing stature, sighing a little, leaning on a wall to gather himself. Why did I take it...? I don't know...I saw it, I had to have it, no one else knows what it is like, how I should have it...what happened three years ago. Put it of mind, don't be nostalgic, you gotta get out of here. When you're sitting on that militia truck, riding to Bordeaux, you can think to yourself all you want. It's a nice long drive anyway, and you'll need a lot of medical attention too. You know how the A.A. are morons when it comes to doing their job, so you'll definitely be sitting there a while. His hand reached into his lower pocket on the inside of the trench coat garb piece of the uniform, which went over the pants and shirt, but was then covered by the shoulder garment, and the shoulder piece buckled to the center piece, hanging down to his knees. His fingers toyed with it, the small necklace, the trinket rubbing into his calloused fingertips. As he did, his concentration was broken by a loud screeekraaack, booming through the empty halls of the Seikishidan.

Bolting out of the room, smashing the inward opening door into the wall as he threw it, his eyes scanned around for where the sound came from, the echo not helping. The other soldiers emerged from which dorms they were scouring, the noise equally perturbing them. They exchanged confused glances, the noise persistent. It was a mild pain to hear, like a saw cutting through stone, but it was bearable, unlike the nails-on-a-chalkboard hoarse gasps of Gears. Abruptly, the noise stopped, all silent, the lingering echo finding solace in death as well a few seconds later. They all held their breaths, unsure of to move or not, something that goes bump in the night transferred to day, and it didn't have a closet to be in.

"Sir!" a voice broke through their cold fear. Ky took a step forward, the voice not coming from any of the soldiers around him. "Sir! Up here!" His glance changed to a soldier kneeling above the rim of the skylight, looking in upon the headquarters from his raised position. "We got here as soon as we could! We're here to rescue you!" he screamed, ecstatic in being able to locate the commander so easily.

Ky sprinted to the sky light fixture, as close as he could get with it being in the middle of a gap.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Bordeaux base, sir!" he said. Duh, Kiske. You were just thinking about it anyway. The soldier gleamed happily, an equally young one, probably Kiske's own age. He could tell this story for years to come, that he talked to and helped Ky Kiske. "We're here with three platoons of soldiers, leading by Adam Gestahl under U.N. Security, sir! We've got three full trucks and supplies! The U.N. brought themselves here, with the A.A.'s!" The soldier seemed to spout the "good news" to Ky, unable to contain himself, wanting to prove to the commander he was worthy, a good soldier.

"Thank you, lieutenant" he said calmly. The soldier was startled for a moment, looking back down at his green private uniform, then beaming back at him. Ky nodded his head to the side, maintaining eye contact, the soldier trying to avoid it, but his eyes curious and wandering, seeing the eyes of Kiske looking back at him, then snapping elsewhere. The soldier understood, saluted, stood up, and ran off, his voice trailing to the obvious other soldiers waiting around to ready up the insertion team to get them out. Seikishidan protocol, never look a commander in the eyes. It's disrespectful, that you should never see eye-to-eye as a commanding officer. Darton obviously broke the code, and Jaygus had as well, though the way that Jaygus had done it had been somehow...subtle, gentle, in a way that made it seem okay. Anyway...

Ky looked back at Jaygus, the private, then over at the other side of Floor F where the lieutenant had emerged from his dorm, and flashed a smile. We're saved, we're good. We'll live. I did it...I lead them to salvation. Like Moses to the Jews out of Egypt...I have led them home. Wait... A slow creak echoed through the Seikishidan, bouncing off of the walls eerily, unnaturally. It came from inside, not above like the abrupt intrusion before. Then, he saw it. His vision was a perfect twenty-twenty, as it needed to be in his position, but what he saw was more mentally, he didn't need a crystal quality image to know what he saw about a mile off.

The doors to the elevator were being slowly pried open, fingers crawling through the open spots, bending back the metal like paper, it crying in weakness to a mother who would not save it. One of the shafts with the single door remaining had figures already pouring out slowly, the second door ripped from its hinges. And when Moses got to Israel...God didn't let him in, he died on top of Mount Sinai, looking over the Promised Land, only to die... Ky felt instantly cold, innerved, and small. Insignificant in the world, a tiny piece, no longer holding it up, but just a man living on the world. He shook it away, he couldn't have those feelings now, it wasn't right, wasn't time.

The lieutenant across the hall looked back at Kiske with an instant sense of urgency, a scared plight running rampant across his emotions. He looked Ky dead in the eyes, blinking a few times, then standing straight up, taking a breath in. He nodded at Ky, looking him in the eyes, then ran.

"No!" Ky gasped, jumping out, held back by the railing, his feeble attempt to stop the man who was forty-five feet away in vain. The lieutenant grasped his sword tight, and continued to run further back the way he came, around the bend in Floor F, to the elevators. It was over quick, the Gears flooding out of the doors surrounded and impaled him, his body being flung over the railing, two swords sticking through his chest. That image would be forever imprinted on Ky's brain. ...He just died, sacrificed himself, knowing he'd be dead. They killed him, threw him off, and he did it for...me...he just made up his mind, a split second decision, and did it, died, for me... Ky was taken aback for a second, the realization of war and death slowly catching up with him, his nerves of steel slowly tarnishing, only being silver plated, the true colors underneath shining, and not gloriously. He swallowed a dry breath, his throat parched, but his psyche fracturing. He taped it back together, shaking himself out of it. Snap out of it, you gotta live, and fight. Don't die, you can't, not yet.

Hurry the hell up!" he yelled up at the sky light, his voice traveling unknown lengths, hoping to God the soldiers outside heard it. There again with the cursing...it's really damn appropriate right now. Shut up. He slowly took out the Fuuraiken, holding it tight in his hands, looking at the Gears that seemed to flow out of the broken elevator shaft, lining up along the semi-circle that linked both sides of Floor F. He glanced back to Jaygus, who in turn took out his sword, nodding sullenly to his leader. Quint also, to his right, unsheathed his own sword, a look of contempt for Ky, but washing it back for a more common enemy. He took a few steps to his right, in the direction of the Gears, the private and Jaygus following behind him. He walked next to Darton, and then passed him, without even moving his eyes, keeping his look straight on the Gears that amassed about a mile away. They all walked behind him, swords in their hands, each deep in thought as to what they needed to do, as to what they could do.

"God is with us. He is in every breath we take, every step we make. Use this and do not look back, He gives you strength, He protects you." Ky said, words solemn and unrelenting. "God gave David the strength to overcome the odds and enemy at hand, for his will and might will give those who believe in Him ultimate strength. We will not die, not this day. We shall survive and persist. God as our ally, God as our leader..." Ky said, the words flowing from him evangelically. Each step replaced the last, in a rhythmic fashion, walking to his fate, Jesus over his shoulder. He couldn't die, he wouldn't, not now. Not with God behind him, not with the weight of the world on his shoulders...not without...

Ky reached into his pocket slowly, bringing out the necklace. Putting the Fuuraiken under one arm as he walked, he slowly clipped it on his neck, the golden chain fitting around the collar of his uniform, dangling across his chest, the small gold cross lying on his sternum. Grabbing the Fuuraiken again, he heard the footsteps of those behind him. Another unsheathing echoed past him. Darton slowly took out his knife, holding it in his left hand, his right hand holding the mistake sword. Jaygus behind him, and the private the fourth one. The Gears, all of them finally stepping out of the shaft they climbed up out of, stood still, looking at their enemy approaching slowly. They totaled about fifty, the remaining force of Gears left. It was the humanoid type of Gear, the ones they left in the warehouse. Obviously, they used raw power to climb to the Floor F, but it worked. The large, haggard bodies, bone exposed, muscle falling off of bone, disgusting red eyes rolling in their sockets, exposed organs, skin boiled and burned, pruned, infected, and missing altogether. They hunched over themselves like apes, each breath stooping their bodies to one side, then back down with exhale, mouths open, cheeks holed and disgusting, cut out tongues and grotesque ones hanging from where ever it allowed. They filed all out in front, filling every space available to meet Ky, taking precautious steps, walking forward in a constant pace.

Ky stopped about a hundred feet from the oncoming Gears, the three soldier behind him filing out to the sides of him, facing the oncoming Gears. They kept their solemn walk, husking in each breath, most holding crude weapons, pieces of rock, or their own bone being weapons. A few were hunched over, walking on all fours, an elongated mouth with a graveyard of razor teeth beckoning to tear through the flesh of Kiske. About twenty feet from Ky, they stopped, filing out in line like the humans had, the ranks of the rest behind. They were going to swarm him, all of them at once, an oncoming wave in a confined space, but they stopped abruptly, like a stand off. Their eyes rolled, accepting orders, looking at them all, assessing, thinking.

"God is with us, do not forget." Ky whispered again, his voice low and stern. He slowly slid his left foot out, holding the Fuuraiken above his head with his right hand, his left hand extending out, fingers pointing at the Gears. The other three equally took ready for battle. Quint held the mistake sword in his right hand, out in front of him, the blade arched to his left shoulder slightly, the knife in close to his body, scrunched for a quick stab. Jaygus took his standard issue Seikishidan sword, worn with dents and small cracks, filled pieces of metal in cracks from battles past, and Gears killed on his sword, bringing the weapon to his left hand, both gripping it tightly, then out in front of him, angled outward and at the ceiling. The private took the standard taught Seikishidan battle stance, holding the sword back with both hands, tip at the enemy, across your shoulders, body turned, eyes focused down the length of the blade and aimed at the enemy. On first attack, stab the blade out for a ranged attack, but bring it back quick for counter-ups. Standard procedure. Ky's left hand, extended turned upward, the fingers slowly twitching, teasing the Gears to come forward, beckoning for them, as if to say "Come here". They didn't budge, haggardly sitting tight by orders.

Ky Kiske, big commander. Hello, I see you now, face to face in battle, not in that elevator. I see you now. You're quite a handsome man. Blonde hair down to your nose, blue eyes, fit, you must have made the girls go wild. Shame you won't be able to after this, you filth. I will remember this moment, commit it to memory, I do believe this will be worth it, and when I do my collection on humanity, I will make sure to recollect this moment, the beginning of the end of humanity. Here is where it ended for you and your kind. What's that? You're telling me to attack first? I see you looking at the Gear, you're looking through it, at me. Well, I see you, Blue eyes, I see you. Hold position until he attacks. What do you have to say to that? God is not on your side, human. He will never be, He is dead. I will be the new God, those to worship and pray upon. You are a symbol for your people, standing there, worshipping God and spouting His name for your own personal ambition. He is not with you, He never has been. You are deceived, and you will die. Ha, I see that. You're starting to run, you want to attack me first now? Is that so... Let him strike one down, then attack, kill him, rip him limb from limb, but let him have one. Oh, the one you were looking at, looking at me. Each step, I see it coming for me, each of your awkward paces at me, so human. They're uneven, off balance, not mathematically correct or physically a perfect use of yourself, not efficient. Another show of why you, as a human, need to be killed. Here, I see you now in front of me, raising that sword up...the sword of Frederick. Well, not literally, since I know where that one is. What is that? It's sparkling, each step it jiggles across...a small sparkle, a twinkle. Oh, I see. It's a cross, how elegant and suiting. Ah, the blue glow, the electricity, vitals are fading, you killed the one Gear, now kill him. Attack, now.

The last fading images from the Gear before the connection was terminated to Justice, it was lying on its back, dying, eyes staring up lifelessly, the sparkling gold crucifix the centerpiece of the image. God is on your side...ha.

-X- Author's Notes –X-
- Zeronova's Notes:
- This was written July 24th, just thought I'd let you know. I've been very productive. Well, we set up the final Seikishidan H.Q. fight. This is an important time for me, it is the end of Arc I, where I transition into where I faded away from the original Desolate Gail. It leaves me feeling somewhat empty, thinking "Can I finish it now, knowing where I am?", and at the same time, proud I have come this far. I will finish it, I promise. And, as I said before, end of Arc I, there are three Arcs, for those wondering. Also, I dropped in Gestahl. I really love the dramatic flair this chapter had, them all lining up to each other, the cross, the narrator's talk about God, and how Ky/Justice talk/think about it. I hope you liked it as much as I did. Anyway, next Monday, next chapter, the beginning of the fight for the Seikishidan Headquarters!
-X- End Author's Notes –X-