Chapter 10: Sandman
"Miss Trepe," came a quiet voice, and Quistis turned at the familiar tone, adrenaline spiking at the voice. Her hand dropped to her whip at her belt as she looked at the speaker.
Leaning calmly against the wall of a building, just inside an alley near the plaza where the attempted assassination had occurred, was a familiar, bearded man with an odd tie, hat, and formal attire.
"You again," Quistis muttered at Alucard, who chuckled. He detached himself from the wall and walked out into the open, glancing up at the sun as he did so.
"I know you have questions, my dear, and I would prefer to answer them," he explained with a smile. "However, events are proceeding at a pace that makes things difficult to talk about."
"What do you mean?" Quistis asked, now more curious than alarmed.
"Commander Leonhart asked an important question a moment ago," the man continued. "Specifically, he was wondering where Sorceress Rinoa happened to be."
"You . . . Wait, how do you know Rinoa is . . . ." Quistis trailed off, and shook her head. "I really shouldn't be surprised. Okay. What do you know?"
"No time to explain, my dear," Alucard relied, and he gestured back toward the alley he had been standing in. "Suffice it to say, Rinoa is in danger and Squall is walking into a very dangerous trap. There is one way to head him off, and that is with me. Otherwise we won't catch up with him in time."
"What are you going to do?" Quistis asked, and noticed something in the alley beyond. It seemed like a swirling black portal, with tiny motes of light within.
"I've opened a gateway between here and a point ahead of Squall's current course," Alucard explained. "We have to go now if we intend to catch him and warn him of the trap."
Quistis glanced between the mysterious man, and the portal, and started toward it, before hesitating.
"Why me?" she asked, and Alucard chuckled again.
"Squall doesn't trust me completely," he replied. "But he trusts you with his life. That's what matters. We must hurry."
Quistis nodded after a moment, and she walked into the alley, stepping into the portal.
Squall's feet pounded the metal as he rushed down the relatively empty street, hand on his gunblade. His jaw was set, and his eyes were virtually blazing with raw, angry fires. The few people he did encounter got out of his way, either because of his speed or the set of his features, which warned them that being in his path was not healthy.
Soon enough, Squall had passed the populated segments of Fisherman's Horizon and neared the south end of the city, with about ten minutes to spare. His Guardian Forces gave him the strength and speed to run quickly, and without tiring, and he was barely winded as he approached the southern docks.
Squall slowed as he came into sight of Pier Thirty-Two, and stared over the warehouse before the docks intently.
She was in there, and so was Rinoa. Squall knew the situation was dire; Illarra was likely setting a trap. Squall clenched his gunblade's handle tightly as he narrowed his eyes at the structure.
So be it. You want hell? You've gotten it, Illarra.
Squall surveyed his target for a moment, and began to start forward. He didn't have a plan; he had only a few minutes until the deadline, and not enough intelligence concerning his target to come up with a plan of attack. He would just have to go in headfirst and improvise.
"Squall, wait," came a voice from behind Squall, and he froze. He turned, and saw Quistis standing behind him, and beside her . . . .
"You again," Squall muttered, and Alucard laughed.
"This is getting repetitive," he commented.
"What is it?" Squall asked, looking back at the warehouse.
"She has Rinoa, doesn't she?" Quistis asked, and Squall closed his eyes before nodding.
"She wants me to go in alone," he explained. "If I don't, Rinoa dies. I'm sorry, but I can't let you two come with me."
"I'm afraid that's out of the question," Alucard replied. "They have a trap set for you, and a small army inside that building. You're good Commander, but I wonder if even you can match what awaits."
"I don't care if there's an entire battalion hiding in there," Squall responded firmly. "I'll kill anything between me and her."
"Rinoa or Illarra?" Quistis asked, and he snarled quietly, like an animal.
"Both."
"In that case, we can assist you, Commander," Alucard cut in.
"Are you deaf?" Squall asked. "Did you hear what I said? I go in alone, or Rinoa dies. And she will kill Rinoa if I don't do as she says."
"She'll kill Rinoa just to spite you," Quistis responded, and Squall hesitated, before nodding once more.
"Yes, she would," Squall admitted.
"They will kill you if you go in there," Alucard continued. "But I know a method by which we can get inside that will make our chances of defeating Illarra and saving Rinoa much better."
"I'm listening," Squall said after a few seconds.
She paced around the room restlessly, a slender knife twirling in her fingers as she moved around. The blade moved quickly and gracefully in her fingers, lightly and quickly, perfectly balanced and doubtlessly lethal. After a few moments, she turned her attention to the other person in the roomw ith her.
"Surprised, aren't you?" Illarra asked.
Rinoa, seated in a chair, hands bound securely behind her back, didn't reply immediately. She was still off-guard by what she saw when Illarra's goons had dragged her into the warehouse's office.
"You look like him," Rinoa finally answered, and Illarra chuckled.
"Oh, yes," she replied. "Not by accident, I assure you." Her prisoner seemed to muse over this for a moment.
"Why are you doing this?" Rinoa demanded suddenly, and Illarra smiled, looking out the window, over the warehouse she commanded. Below, dozens of men could be seen moving around, weapons in hand or setting up preset defensive positions.
"What makes you think you would understand?" Illarra replied. "Can you understand a seething fury and hatred that's been buried inside for nearly a decade? Half my adult life has been spent in impotent rage toward that man you sleep with . . . ."
Illarra glanced at a digital clock on the wall, and looked back at Rinoa.
"Bad news," she said after a moment. "Your boyfriend has twenty seconds left. Barely any time to come in and rescue you. If he hadn't removed his transmitter, I might have at least checked with him to see where he was. Then he could have heard me start to cut."
Rinoa locked eyes with Illarra, and saw the emotions buried beneath her slight smirk. There was anger, and hatred there, and . . . envy? Not just directed at Squall, she knew, but at her, at Rinoa. What was she envious of?
However, even moreso than envy, Illarra possessed something more. There was a degree of sadism within her, Rinoa could tell, and with it an underlying sense of twisted pleasure. It took Rinoa a moment of analysis to finally figure it out. Illarra was . . .
Insane.
There were no there words to describe the look of the person who slowly crossed the room, calmly, gracefully twirling the knife, cutting delicate patterns in the air as she looked over Rinoa. Illarra paused before her captive, and knelt down, looking the Sorceress eye-to-eye.
"I wonder if I'm compatible?" she whispered. "If I killed you, would you transfer your powers to me? Would I become the Sorceress? Would I be able to rule over mankind with the iron fist that you refuse to utilize? I know you have tremendous power within you. Such wasted potential, when you don't use it . . . ."
After a moment, Illarra straightened, and glanced at the clock. The knife stopped its graceful motions, and her smile widened.
"Five seconds," she whispered. The knife slowly cut through the air before Rinoa's face, the tip brushing her nose.
"Four."
Illarra flipped it over, examining the blade, as if deciding which grip would work best for the job at hand.
"Three."
She flipped the blade back over, apparently concluding that the underhand grip was better.
"Two."
The edge slowly moved forward, the tip coming to rest in front of Rinoa's left ear, the cold metal sending a shiver up her spine.
"One."
The wall on the north side of the warehouse exploded.
One second, it was there, then it was not, vanishing in a firestorm of intense fury, launching shards of molten concrete and metal everywhere. Smoke and steam rose from the gap, obscuring the entrance, and a dozen of Illarra's soldiers rushed to the site of the detonation, raising rifles. They hesitated as they heard growls and raging flames beyond, and caught the distant outline of a great, horned beast, wreathed in white-hot flames.
However, the flames subsided, and silence filled the warehouse as the wall of smoke and steam continued to obscure the new entrance. The soldiers glanced at each other for a moment, and then turned their attention back to the entrance as they heard the sound of boots clomping on the pavement outside.
A new outline could be seen outside, amid the obscuring smoke, a slender, humanoid shape. The figure advanced through the obscuring mist, its steps in time with the clatter of boots, and slowly, deliberately, it extended an arm. A glowing brand emerged, held out to its side, casting blue-white light through the fog and smoke.
The tip of the sword emerged, revealing the glowing, deadly blue edge of Lionheart, followed an instant later by a small, long-haired man, jaw set firmly as he stepped into view. His movements were calm, even, and betrayed no fear, no confidence, no cocky swagger. His motions were that of a professional, the steps and bearing of a predator about to fall upon hapless prey.
Most striking to those men, however, were his eyes. They blazed with an inner fire and rage, and within those deep, blue orbs, ones that could project captivating light or caring empathy, those soldier saw nothing but true, absolute, and certain death.
Squall Leonhart swept his gaze across the warehouse, and as the soldiers before him stood frozen in fear, he looked upon each man, his expression telling them that he was the Reaper, come to harvest their souls and banish them to hell for their crimes.
Then, without any further fanfare or motion, Squall bolted forward, into the man directly in front of him, and Lionheart clove down hard. The blade chopped into his target's upper left shoulder and down through his right hip, and the man flew apart, dead before he'd even realized he was being attacked.
"Kill him! Kill him!" shouted someone, and the order broke the trance that the horrified soldiers had been enmeshed within. They shouldered their rifles and opened fire at Squall.
Squall was already past them, however, dashing forward and ducking around behind a stack of crates just behind where the first man had died. The soldiers chased after him, Illarra's goons pursuing the fleeing SeeD. The first man rounded the corner, and then simply died as his head was sent flying into the air. The next soldier around the corner was tripped up as a headless corpse was hurled into his path, and as the man stumbled, a blue-white blur chopped down between his eyes.
As the soldier fell away, certainly dead, Squall snapped a hand down and grabbed the man's belt, stripping a grenade. The SeeD pulled the pin and rolled it around the corner as several more men closed in, and they cried out in surprise, followed an instant later by screams as the explosive went off at their feet.
Squall whirled around as another foe rounded the other side of the stack, leveling his rifle at the SeeD Commander, and a bolt of lightning sent the man spinning to the ground, rifle firing wildly into the air. Squall rushed over the body, chopping down another foe beyond with a single cut of Lionheart, and dove deeper into the warehouse, a small army on his tail.
"He's here!" Illarra cried, her voice seemingly filled with ecstatic joy as she turned toward the window. She watched for a moment, her free hand clenched tightly as she watched Squall slicing through her soldiers.
"Yes, Squall, show it to me," she whispered, her tone pleading, almost . . . aroused. "Show the world your gift. The gift we both share." She turned back toward Rinoa, a happy smile on her face, the kind of thing a schoolgirl wore when she had been asked out on a date by a handsome boy.
Rinoa shuddered. There was no question about it: Illarra was a total lunatic.
There was a flash of light beyond, and debris flew past the window. Illarra glanced back, laughing.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked. "How wonderfully he kills. So fluid, so deadly, so perfect. He truly is his mother's son."
"What?" Rinoa asked, confused, and Illarra shrugged. She turned back toward her captive, arms crossed, eyes up thoughtfully as she scratched her chin.
"I wonder if I can stand up against him," she asked herself. Then, Illarra close dher eyes and snickered. "Of course I can. If anyone can match your boyfriend, its me. Me or Seifer. Its too bad about him, too. He's going to die so soon. Really, quite the pity. Then, it'll just be the two of us, plus a few others, who can really be the best at the art of war. No one else would be bale to match us. No SeeD, so soldier, not even those freaks my father is cooking up."
Rinoa said nothing, listening intently to Illarra's ramblings. She had no idea what the insane woman was talking about, but what she was speaking of would be a goldmine to SeeD Intelligence.
"But, I've spoken too much," she suddenly stated, and looked at Rinoa. As she did so, a body slammed into the glass behind Illarra. The bloodied soldier slid to the floor outside, and Illarra gave him a slight glance, before turning back to her captive.
"I can't wait until he gets up here," she continued with a slight, girlish giggle. "I need to lay out the welcome mat."
Some thoughtful, or perhaps idiotic, soul had left open a box of C7 explosive charges, complete with detonators. Squall had only had time to utilize one of the explosives to beat off a wave of troops directly behind him, and then had managed to grab a pair of grenades off another corpse. He rushed between a two stacks of crates, both explosives in hand. He popped the pins and rolled them out ahead of himself.
The small explosives rolled beyond the crates, at the feet of two soldiers waiting in ambush, and exploded, shredding both men instantly, and even as the reverberations were resounding across the warehouse, Squall was leaping out between the two stacks, gunblade leading, and driving through the chest of another soldier rushing up to the scene of Squall's latest kills. The SeeD bore the enemy soldier down beneath him and leapt off his body, tearing the gunblade out savagely and rushing around another stack of crates. Two men pursued closely, knowing that Squall was running into a dead end against the warehouse's east wall.
They came around the corner, to find themselves facing a wall. However, the SeeD Commander was not visible.
The impact of boots on the floor right behind them told the two men that Squall had literally run up the wall, kicking off it and dropping behind his pursuers. They silently congratulated his maneuver as he cleaved off their heads in an instant, and the SeeD spun around. A third man came around the corner, and gaped in shock as Squall's blade dove into his heart, and the SeeD spun around the man, ripping his weapon free.
Squall rushed back out into cover, and the ground behind him exploded as some threw a grenade at him. The SeeD rushed forward, bullets chasing him as someone fired a heavy machinegun from a walkway overhead. He rushed between two crates, chopping the weapon arm off a soldier hiding within that space, and spinning around to lop off his head as he passed. As the corpse fell, a lightning bolt erupted from the SeeD's hand and impaled another pursuing enemy soldier, hurling him away.
Squall reversed momentum, and exploded back out the between the crates, leaping after the flying body in a whirling spin that sliced through two more enemy soldiers. He threw himself forward into a blind roll as the machinegun up top tracked him, and several more men opened fire from multiple directions. He came out of the roll, ice lancing out and blasting into another enemy soldier, and dove behind yet another stack of crates.
The enemy, brave or stupid, chased after Squall again, coming around the corner with rifles raised. Six men came after the SeeD, weapons ready as they swept the are beyond, another dead end between them and the wall. They stopped as they saw no SeeD, but instead simply his gunblade, driven down into the floor.
One daring man stepped forward, reaching for Lionheart. Behind him, behind the entire formation, there was movement, and a soldier loosed a gurgling cry as Squall ran past, slitting his throat with his knife. The SeeD stabbed the blade into the back of the next man's neck, up into his brain stem, and leapt upon a third enemy as the man whirled. Squall flipped the blade over in his hand and stabbed it up into the soldier's eye, driving it into his brain, and grabbed the man's rifle as his fingers slackened around it.
Squall raised the weapon one-handed, and fired three bursts, taking down the other three soldiers in a heartbeat. He dropped the rifle, ran forward, and grabbed his gunblade.
The men up on one of walkways above were frantically calling over the radio, trying to relay reports of the SeeD's position, but he kept appearing and disappearing at random, it seemed. One instant, he was in one end of the warehouse, slitting someone's throat, and a moment later he was somewhere else, lopping off a head. Twenty men were dead, and the count was quickly rising. Even the machine gunners were having a difficult time keeping track of Squall's position, laying constant fire seemingly everywhere at once. The other soldiers on the walkway were just as badly off.
They didn't realize how badly their position had become until someone else dropped onto the walkway without warning.
"The odds are unfair, wouldn't you say?" Alucard said with a smile as he stood next to one of the two machine gunners on this platform. The man spun, shocked to see the intruder, and then his head simply evaporated as Alucard's fist slammed through the man's skull. Other soldiers on the platform spun to see the mysterious new figure, and began to bring their weapons to bear. In response, Alucard kicked the corpse across the walkway, the grisly missile landing atop them and tying up several of the soldiers.
Then, he was in their midst, as if the space between his old position and new one had simply not existed. Two punches lashed out in opposite directions, and men were launched away, the points where they had been struck reduced to liquid matter. Alucard spun around into a graceful, elegant circle kick, and another man's head was torn off as he came around. One of the troops drew a knife and dove forward, stabbing at the man's chest. With casual ease, Alucard slapped the man's hand away, and the same hand came around to grab the man's neck. With a shrug, Alucard twisted, and the soldier's neck shattered.
The second soldier wielding a machinegun brought his weapon to bear, and opened fire on Alucard, sheets of hot metal sweeping out at the intruder. Alucard turned to face the bullets, and his body transformed into a series of blurs as he moved forward. It took the soldier about five seconds of continuous fire to come to the impossible conclusion that Alucard was dancing around the bullets.
By the time he came to this conclusion, Alucard stood directly before the soldier, and, without a word or gesture, jabbed a fist into the man's throat. He flew back twenty feet, dead before he hit the catwalk, his neck a now a liquid.
The men on the walkway opposite where Alucard was striking did not miss his actions, but even as they were acting to assist their comrades, another new intruder stepped into the battle.
Her slender hands shattered the neck of one of the machine gunners, and before the rest of the soldiers knew it, Quistis had lifted the machinegun and swept it across the narrow walkway. With nowhere to go, and no warning, eight men were torn to ribbons as Quistis emptied the machinegun over the pathway.
After the last bullet-riddled soldier had fallen to the catwalk, Quistis dropped the weapon to the floor and leapt up into the rafters, getting out of sight, just in case.
Quistis crouched among the rafters, watching Squall lay waste to the men below, and felt a pang of sympathy for the doomed men. She glanced away, and saw Alucard crouched amid the rafters as well, watching the massacre below with detached amusement. He noticed she was looking his way, and sent her a simple wave. After a moment, Quistis waved back, and glanced to the catwalk, and the mangled corpses that remained from his assault.
Who the hell is this guy?
The soldier bent over, his expression shocked, as Squall callously tore the gunblade from his gut and stepped past his dying body. He advanced across the room, a dozen surviving men between himself and the stairway leading up toward the office. They leveled trembling rifles at the SeeD Commander as he walked toward them, but their eyes were as much on the carnage beyond as they were on Squall himself.
Thirty-eight men. Squall Leonhart had cleaved through thirty-eight men, and, excepting the blood staining his clothes, there were no marks on his body whatsoever. The soldiers Illarra had taken to defend her base had not even scratched Squall.
One of the men cried out in terror, and gunfire erupted from their rifles. Squall advanced into the wall of bullets, and shockingly, every round bounced off an electric blue-shield of light that appeared before him.
"Guardian Force!" someone shouted in horror, but by then, it was too late. Rain began to pour in the room around the soldiers, from seemingly nowhere, followed by the brilliant crack of lightning as it struck the floor before Squall. An instant later, from that impact point, a whirling yellow-white entity emerged, a massive serpentine bird, with electricity as its feathers. The great Guardian Force Queztocotl, the deity of lightning, spread its wings, and cast its eyeless gaze over the huddled, terrified men befor eit.
A river of light erupted from within the Guardian Force's wings, a stream of pure electricity, that swept over the cowering men before Squall. The crackling of the lightning drowned out their agonized, horrified screams, and when the light faded and Queztocotl disappeared, no survivors remained in the room.
Squall advanced past the dead bodies, and up the steps toward the office. The door was shut and locked, but Squall solved that with a single kick that blew the door open. There was one man in the room, standing behind Rinoa, holding her before him as a shield. It was the same dark-skinned, bald man who had been his contact all day long. He watched Squall, his body trembling, a pistol leveled at the side of Rino's head.
"Get back!" the man screamed. Squall stared at him, at the same calm man who had handed him the tools Illarra had used to terrorize Fisherman's Horizion and torture Squall.
"Where is she?" Squall demanded.
'I said stay back!" the man shouted. Squall glanced to Rinoa, who closed her eyes.
Do it.
Squall had barely heard her telepathic acknowledgement, when his gunblade hurtled forward, over Rinoa's shoulder, through the man's hand, and cleaved his head in half. The terrorist fell back, releasing Rinoa.
She stumbled forward, and Squall rushed ahead, catching her in his arms, and pulling her close. In an instant, the vicious, lethal Squall Leonhart who had paved a path of corpses was gone, replaced by a man who was tightly hugging Rinoa to his body. He shoulders shook slightly, and only once, as he let out a single sob of relief.
"Rinoa," he whispered. "You're safe. Thank Hyne . . . ." His hands found her bindings, and he quickly removed them, freeing Rinoa's hands.
"I knew you'd come after me," she whispered into his ear as she pulled him close. "But . . . Squall, its not over."
"I know," Squall replied. "But you're safe now. We can get out of here. Illarra isn't here, but we can find her some other day. I'm just glad you're safe."
"But, Squall," Rinoa said, hesitantly. "She's . . . she's here."
"Where?" Squall asked, pulling back a little bit.
"Right here," came a voice behind Squall, and he stiffened. One hand dropped to his knife at his belt, and Squall slowly turned, looking behind him.
Shielded in the spot between the office door and the wall, stood Illarra. She had been waiting for him the whole time.
"Rinoa, get out of here," Squall whispered, and released Rinoa. He and Illarra glared at one another, finally having come face to face, and the first thing that struck Squall was their physical similarities.
She was his same height, and her hair dropped past her chin, the same length and color as Squall's own. Her eyes were the same shade of blue, with only faint white highlights to show they had been surgically altered. Her face was slender, like his, her nose was only slightly smaller and more delicate, and running across her face was a scar that mirrored Squall's own. It didn't look like it had been inflicted in combat; the smooth edges of the scar indicated it had been inflicted ritually. Her clothes were virtually a match for Squall's attire, right down to the black jacket, boots, pants, and gloves, as well as the white shirt. A glance at her belt showed she even wore a knife on her right waist . . .exactly like Squall.
For all intents and purposes, Illarra seemed to have literally fashioned herself as Squall's exact female twin. Aside from her more feminine face and obviously feminine traits beneath her shirt, she was a precise copy of Squall.
Rinoa stepped back, out of the way of the battle, and Illarra stepped aside, letting her move out of the door. Rinoa hesitated, and at a nod from Squall, she moved past the terrorist and outside, leaving the two virtually identical warriors facing one another.
"Why?" Squall breathed as he looked over her, and she chuckled.
"Why not?" she replied. "Considering our history, I suppose modeling myself after you isn't much of a surprise."
"What are you talking about?" Squall demanded, and watched warily as she slowly drew a weapon from her left waist, a long, slender blade of transparent purple crystal, featuring a black ebony handle, and an etching of a crouched dragon on the sides, directly over what looked like . . . The gun aspect of a revolver.
"A gunblade," Squall hissed, and she nodded, slowly drawing a knife from her right waist, and laying the blade back across her left forearm.
"I've based myself off you," she replied quietly. "Strangely enough, we both adopted the gunblade as our weapons of choice. Odd, hm? Or maybe not, considering who and what we both are."
"Stop being cryptic," Squall demanded, finally backing away and grabbing his fallen gunblade. "Get to answering my questions."
"Fine, then," she said, sighing. "Ruin my fun. I deliberately designed myself after you for one reason: I absolutely, completely loathe you, Squall Leonhart. You are what I should have been. You stole the destiny I rightfully should have had. Fate gave you everything, and left me with nothing but hatred and emptiness. You ruined my life Squall . . . Before you were even born."
Squall didn't respond, confused by what his opponent was saying, and trying to comprehend her intent.
"Thus, I'm going to take your life," she continued. "I'll ruin you, and totally, absolutely destroy your entire existence. Once that is done, and I've wiped every aspect of you off the face of this planet, I'll take my rightful place. The place you denied me."
"I don't understand," Squall muttered, shaking his head, and Illarra's eyes flew open, in disbelief or rage, Squall didn't know.
"Don't mock me!" she snarled, and in an instant, she had crossed the distance between them, her gunblade lashing out hard. Squall's weapon dove into its path, deflecting the strike with unerring precision, and she leapt back, coming in with a low stab.
Squall turned the stab out wide with a deft maneuver of his gunblade, and his left fist shot forward, crashing into her forehead. Her skull was rocked back, but in that instant, Illarra's left hand snapped up, slashing across the top of Squall's wrist. Blood flew, and he retracted his hand as she pressed in, stabbing hard at Squall's heart.
Squall spun away desperately, the knife scratching along Squall's side, and he came around with a cleaving slash aimed at Illarra' neck. She spun as well, bringing her gunblade up to catch the cleave. Her knife jabbed ahead again at Squall, this time arcing toward his throat, and the SeeD had to lean back to avoid getting stabbed in the neck. Illarra's gunblade chopped across, and Squall parried again, backing away across the room.
She pursued, gunblade diving low for Squall's gut, which he deftly deflected, and the spinning around into a knife slash at Squall's throat, which he once again threw his neck back to evade. She came ahead in two quick double stabs at Squall's chest, which he deflected and dodged, and then hopped over a low spinning cut at his knees. Illarra rose up in a stab with her knife at Squall's chest, and he slapped a hand over her wrist catching it.
Illarra dropped the knife suddenly, and spun her hand around Squall's, grabbing him by the front of his bloodstained shirt. Her maddened expression shifted to a smile of wild glee, and she spun, lifting squall up and slamming him into the floor behind her with one arm. The SeeD hit hard enough to actually bounce up off the floor, and Illarra wasted no time lashing out with a boot into Squall's back, launching him across the room to slam hard into the wall, upside down. She rushed across the room, scooping up her fallen knife and both weapons dove for the SeeD's chest.
Lionheart lanced up, parrying the sword, while Squall's other hand caught her stabbing dagger hand. Still upside down, and before falling to the floor, Squall coiled both his legs and snapped them forward, slamming them into Illarra's chest and face. She was launched back across the room, slamming into the glass windows and shattering right through them.
Squall fell forward off the wall, and ran toward the window. He leapt out the window in pursuit of Illarra, dropping down toward the floor below, where she was sprawled, and just then starting to get up. Squall fell toward her, Lionheart raised, and she looked up in time to see him fall upon her, and with just the instant she needed to snap her sword up and catch Squall's descending blade. Illarra's knees buckled under the impact, and she dropped into a crouch.
Squall snapped a foot between the two blades, and launched her backward several feet. Illarra dropped into a backflip and landed on her feet in time to catch Squall's incoming blade. She turned the cleave out wide, and countered with a knife jab at his ribs. Squall hopped back and, thinking quickly, drew one of his own knives from his belt. He knew he had to even this confrontation; Illarra's second weapon was giving her way too much of an edge in this battle.
She nodded in agreement with Squall's choice, and came forward din a rush. Gunblade and knife emt in rapid succession, scraping and twisting in the brief exchange. Squall pushed forward aggressively, and Illarra fell back, giving him ground. They hopped over corpses and danced around pools of blood, Squall's grisly handiwork.
"A masterpiece!" she suddenly commented as they moved across the floor. "How perfect, isn't it, Squall?" She shot ahead in a rush, stabbing ahead with her blades, and he back away, deflecting gunblade and knife with deft parries of his own two weapons.
"I told your girlfriend, and I'll tell you, you certainly are your mother's son!"
"My mother?" Squall exclaimed, and in his confusion, she advanced, taking the initiative in the fight and forcing Squall into a blocking routine. "What do you know about her?"
"Everything, Squall!" she answered, striking out in a low cut at his knees. Squall snapped his gunblade down to parry her own weapon, and shot ahead with a kick that forced her back onto her heels, giving Squall the initiative, which he took with an aggressive slash at her throat. Illarra parried with her knife and countered, which he parried quickly and came right back in with another counter.
"I know who you are, I know who your mother is! I know everything that matters!" She backed away a step, and then leapt back, up onto a nearby stack of crates with a single bound. Squall, refusing to give her a moment's rest, pursued. He landed on top of the crates with a deft parry and deflection, countering her attacks with quick strokes of his own, quickly retaking the upper hand.
"I know why you wonder at night," she hissed, knowingly. His eyes widened, and Illarra knew she had hit the mark. "I know why you wonder from time to time. You feel it, don't you? The urge to fight. The urge to complete, to prove you are the better. The urge to win, Squall! That's what you feel! it's a part of you, and you can't deny it! Its in your blood!"
She caught his rushing slashes with both weapons and stopped them cold. They stood, eyes barely inches apart, and she laughed in understanding.
"The same blood, squall," she whispered. "We both share it. We share his blood! The Chimera's blood, Squall!"
Squall's eyes widened in shock, and he shoved back against her weapons.
The Chimera? Hyne . . . The genes of the Chimera?
Centra's ultimate super-soldier?
"You are an expert fighter, squall, make no mistake about it," she continued quietly, smiling darkly. "You are a head above any other fighter. You can match men three times your age, who have seen a hundred times the combat you have, because you bear his genes! You possess the blood of the Chimera. And so do I. That's why we look alike, isn't it? His genes are dominant. We retain his traits, and the greatest of these are the genes that make us into the perfect soldiers. We are warriors incarnate, down to our very genomes."
Squall shook his head after a moment, not in denial, but in disbelief at the possibility.
"You can't deny it," she whispered. Then, without warning, Illarra shot forward, across the crates, blades thrusting at Squall. He caught them quickly, knocking them out wide, and his head shot forward, smacking into her forehead. Illarra fell back, and the stack of crates shuddered.
"Unstable," Squall muttered, and Illarra managed a laugh.
"Yes," she replied, and gestured at her feet. A bolt of magic shot down into the crates, and the entire stack shuddered. There was an explosion at the base of the boxes, and the crates began to topple without warning. The stack began to fall apart, and both fighters lost their footing.
Squall fell to the floor hard, crates raining down around him, and looked up in time to see a shadow rapidly descending toward him. Illarra fell, eyes wide in manic glee, gunblade raised for a finishing chop into Squall's face.
Lionheart shot up, catching the blade as it descended, and his feet rose, catching Illarra across the stoach and rolling her momentum off his body. She flew across the warehouse, rolling up onto her feet as Squall closed the distance. Both gunblades met on a clash of flashing crystalline energy, and Squall ducked low, ramming his shoulder into Illarra's stomach, sending her reeling backward. He whipped around into a high kick that connected with her chin, lifting his foe up into the air, and squall planted a palm to Illarra's stomach. Lightning coursed down his arm, into her stomach, and exploded, launching her across the room. She crashed through a stack of crates without slowing down, and Squall winced as he heard and felt a shuddering impact against the far wall of the warehouse. He ran through the collapsed crate stack, and quickly came to a spot where the metal wall of the warehouse had been dented outward.
Illarra lay on the floor, weapons strewn across the floor. She started to rise weakly, her eyes glazed over, and squall rushed forward, kicking her in the gut and lifting her into the air. She fell away, and Squall grabbed her by her throat as she fell. Without hesitation, he slammed her into the floor again, and kicked her against the wall. She let out a pained groan.
Slowly, Squall crouched down, grabbed her by her hair, and lifted her head up. Illarra's eyes were puffy and glazed even worse than before, and, without any remorse or pity, Squall smashed the butt of his gunblade into her temple, blasting the woman from the realm of the conscious.
"I'm not like you," he muttered to himself. He would not finish a downed opponent like this. Not like she would. Grabbing her by the front of her shirt, Squall dragged toe woman back out into the open warehouse floor.
Quistis, Rinoa, and Alucard stood out there, waiting for him. Squall looked to each of them, and then lifted his foe up by her shirt and tossed her at Alucard's feet.
"Hope there's enough left to question," he muttered, and then, exhaustion seemed to sweep across his features. He stumbled forward, and Rinoa rushed up to Squall, catching him in her arms.
"Are you okay?" she asked, and he laughed.
"Fine as I can be after today," Squall muttered. "Let's go home."
-
Holy crap. That one came out fast. Chapter written to the tunes of both the Guilty Gear XXsoundtrack, and the Metallica song in the title. Seriously, "Sandman" is, without question, the perfect song for the massacre in this chapter.
This one was a blast to write. Illarra has been beaten (for now . . . heeheeheee . . . .) and a whole new plot thread of unbelievable signifigance has been reavealed. Squall's day has ended, but its not the end of his troubles for a long time. And next chapter, we finally get to see a lot more of Irvine and Selphie's story!
Shout-Outs of Spiffiness!
Daniel Wesley Rydell: Malachi...heehee. Trust me, he's actaully even more dangerous than the fight with Zell showed. if it wasn't for Lex, Zell would have been killed. Suffice it to say, that won't be the last time Malachi and Zell mix it up.
Illarra . . . well, as Rinoa discovered, is bonkers. She doesn;t play precisely by our rules, so she does what she wants, regardless of consequence. She's primarily driven by hate toward Squall and her own insanity. And,a s I showed, she is just as capable a fighter as Squall, due to, well, the story's title.Who is the Chimera? You may be surprised. And no, its not Laguna, or Raine. Not precisely. . ..
As for Simmons, that sick bastard is dead. He ain't coming back, ever. Bye-bye.
This shout out sponsoered by Captain Stantan, Lord of the Chainsaw Parakeets.
Endileye: Firefly rules, man. I loved that show.
LittleGenius90: Seifer is currently stuck in the bowels of Iceblood Prison, being a complete badass and running his own home shopping and 24-hour news network, as well as scouting out potential sites for a new chain ofhotels. He's a busy man, don't bother him.
Psylockian Emperor: Hee. you must not have read theprevious chapter yet. Lex lives! And there will be more dialogue. With the defeat of Illarra, things are going to, marginally, slow down.
Well, Zell didn't kick Malachi's ass, but Lex certainly did XD
I didjn't notice that about Xu, but now that you mention it, it does seem interesting. i just wrote her as I naturally felt she would. Vicious and profssional in combat, but ouside of combat, thoughtful.
The vapors coming off Serra are not from any sort of possession, so to speak. Serra is a seperate group ofentities on her own, and not an extension or possession of any individual. And yes, you read that right. "Group of entities." Now, I'm going to go hide from the stones launched by waves of angry readers demanding more than that tiny morsel I just gave up. Suffice it to say, Serra is probably one of the biggest plot twists in this story.
Chris Ganale: That part where Corran was interrogating that Jedi woman person, andhe told Luke to stand over to the side. "Think Hutt. With eyebrows." Its in there. Go check that scene out again, its funny as hell.
Aha! I figured it was either that theme or the one where the clone troopers were marching into the temple.
Katy: Squall didnt just kick ass . . . he beat it DBZ style!
JadeAlmasy: Yes. Biggest aspect of shout-outs is that you can use them to communicate with your readers in direct response to reviews, and in turn, toss out morsels of story. For example, did you know that a Chimera is part serpent and part lion? Look back at the design of Illarra's gunblade . . . .
Seifer won't be around for a little bit. It'll be a few chapters before he returns. I wasn't intending to showcase his bit for a while, but you guys were so insistent on seeing him, heh . . . .
Solid Shark: Oh, yes, she did XD
OniRazz: I read through the story for MGS3, so I could properly do my Metal Gear novelization (hopefully it'll be finished by the end of the summer, but if not, it can wait) which is likely where i got the idea for the Wisemen's Committee from.
Kimahrigirl: I actually got really excited with each POV change in that part. I typed faster and faster as the story progressed, and I think it was a great way of showcasing the parallel stories of Zell and Squall's struggles.
And you didn't need patience for this chapter did you? My fingers are burning right now! They burn with the great passion of great writing!
Karaoke Risa: Yes. he was very pissed. Very, very pissed. Like, uber pissed. Sucks to be those goons, doesn't it?
DBZ Fanfiction Queen: Sadly, Illarra didn't die. She just got her ass kicked really badly.
The Malachi/Zell battle was based off the knife fight in resident Evil 4 between Leon and Krauser, and one of the most intense moments was when Krauser drops onto Leon and starts struggling to stab him in the throat with the blade. You gotta hit the buttons fast as they appear, you Krauser wins, and, well, you have to start all over. I tired to recapture that moment.
Well, we think alike, huh? Yeah, Squall's breakdown and crying with relief was an emotional moment, followed by his raw rage at Illarra.
That everyone? Awesome. Bedtime for Peptuck; he's tired, and its late right now.
Until next chapter!