Several months earlier…

The Heart of Filgaia, next to the blue shining brilliance of the Tear Drop, was the most precious crystal upon the face of the planet. When the land was wounded and scarred through the wars long since passed on her surface, the crystals came into being as physical manifestations of the life that was lost. It was like amber, blood from the very tree of life. There was such amazing, unimaginable power and sheer potential within those gems. This gem in question was one of the very best, and it was aptly named. No other crystal could shine as a reaction to life as well as the Heart did.

It was also the original source of Jet Enduro's life force.

"What?" The silver haired boy said in astonishment, straightening up from his careless slouch against the laboratory's wall.

They were on the fifteenth floor of the tower of Yggdrasil, more commonly known as the floor of genetic manipulation and where the Prophet Malik Benedict had once called his home. The Maxwell Gang were there on a quest for information, attempting to salvage anything they could possibly find that could benefit mankind, without there being any kind of maniacal grab for power or anything else that could disturb the world. Yggdrasil was a treasure trove of knowledge, and so it couldn't be left naked to time and the elements, where any old transient could find them.

Virginia and the others didn't fancy themselves great knowledge-keepers of the future, but they had at least been involved with the troubles of the past and felt that they had some sort of responsibility to protect it. Who else could? The Ark of Destiny was too caught up with the death of Lamium to continue researching Filgaia's past, and like an organism with its heart freshly ripped out, it was beginning to break down into chaos.

So they were more or less safe for the time being. Yggdrasil, with its remote location made it the perfect hiding place. Virginia and Gallows were rummaging through the books the Prophets had kept safe, whilst Jet had stood around and done mostly nothing. He didn't enjoy unearthing secrets, yet he was listening to Clive, busy at the monitor that had once connected to the Hyades database, but was also hooked to a much smaller bank that had kept some of the Prophets important documents secure. Clive was good with computers. Nobody really knew why, probably not even Clive himself.

"In this report." Clive said with a surprising amount of calm, finding it hard to contain his own excitement. "I believe it to be a project statement about the steps taken to engineer the Filgaia Sample. It looks like a record of the results as well." The archaeologist pressed a couple of keys in such a calculated way as to make the screen scroll down further. Small text undulated across it in pre-programmed streams. Jet couldn't read it from where he was, but knew that Clive was either dictating or paraphrasing it.

"It also has an account of a particular gem. When the Filgaia Sample essence was redeveloped into a humanoid form, it proved that they possessed the power to develop an organism suitable to live independently of any life support systems. Originally they wanted to try and transplant the old Jet's soul into the newly constructed body, but it was not a success. How could it be a success? They had no blueprints to work from. You cannot design a human soul. He was dead long before they had any chance to intervene. What a shame."

Jet wandered over from the wall and curiously looked over Clive's shoulder, at the text on the screen. "Forget that." He hissed sharply. "Get back to the stuff about the gem. The gem."

Clive tilted his head a little to glance at Jet from the corner of his eye. He looked very interested now, almost hungry for the information the computer held. He really was not that amazed at Jet's reaction, but was happy to know that he was not the only one fascinated by this. "Gems are crystallized life. In the making of the Sample, they extracted a potential energy from the body of the gem and transferred it to the body of their experiment. The hypothesis according to the computer is that the raw life within the gem would find shape inside the physical flesh and make it into a home. Apparently…" He paused and murmured sheepishly. "It worked. It worked without any problems at all."

"So the 'potential energy' within the gem was me. I came from a crystal? Is that what you're saying?" Jet pressed, leaning back up again. It sounded like something from a fairy tale, but Jet knew very well the power that some crystal ores held, particularly the elemental shards that were sometimes left behind after a battle, when arcana was cast. But he was more than just an arcana. He had a soul. Could a crystal hold a soul?

"The Heart of Filgaia was mined from a mountainous region that was once known as 'The Sea of Sand'. It is most likely under the quicksand ocean now. According to this…" Clive read a little further in the reports regarding the crystal. "There was also a legend that the Heart was a gem in the hilt of a weapon that slashed open the world."

"Move over. Lemme see that." Jet stormed, nudging Clive out of his chair. He wasn't that good at reading and interpreting scientific and historical reports, but what he could understand seemed to match up with Clive's story. Jet knew that he was special, he knew that he had been given life in a strange and unusual way. His body was a science experiment, but he had never given any thought on how his very soul came into being. It wasn't something you usually thought about. You were born, and your soul was there. Nobody knew where they came from. But his had come from a gem.

Apparently.

The two drifters had switched places and now it was Clive who was looking over Jet's tense shoulder. "This is a very remarkable discovery!" He exclaimed, pleased. "We have been able to extract energy from lots of different outlets, sunlight, coal and the motions of water, but this would top them all! Nobody knows how life is made, or where it comes from. That whole department is more the business of a priest than a scientist, but if crystals harbor the raw material that can produce life, simply think of the possibilities!"

"Yeah, think of it." Jet echoed tonelessly, inwardly finding himself unable to believe the words that were printed upon the screen. He could believe in Guardians and magic and demons from eons past, but he could not bring himself to believe that the most essential and meaningful part of himself could be likened to a rock on the ground. It was degrading, and simply impossible. "More artificial life. More golems. More poor bastards who haven't a clue on who they are." His words were sour, cynical. "We could certainly use more of that, eh?"

"…That was not what I was referring to." Clive sounded hurt. Jet's bashing on his new discovery struck him personally. "I meant that if crystals have a raw potential energy in them that can be harnessed, it could be turned into something like electricity, or light and heat. It may result in minimal pollution of the future." The green-haired man paused and decided to keep himself in check. "Maybe I am getting too ahead of myself, but I like the idea of an easier future for the next generation."

Jet didn't want to start a debate with him. He knew that once Clive started to talk it took a lot to shut him up again. It was better just to avoid the issue. His own interest lay within the gem itself, not in what kind of powers it held. "Does this thing say what happened to the gem after they used it to help make me?" He asked the older man, unsure on how to make the computer work properly by himself.

Clive smiled and began to manipulate the keyboard from where he was standing, behind his friend. More text appeared on the screen, along with a map to a place that would have seemed familiar to them, had they been better acquainted to construction blueprints before. "It says in this cross-referenced file that the Heart of Filgaia was put into storage for possible further use. Perhaps they were going to make a Jet mark two sometime in the future." In the chair Jet shivered uncontrollably for a moment, hating the idea. Clive continued on. "Yes… it is in storage at the Leyline Observatory. Huh, that makes sense. It is very close to a mining town, where gems are in abundance."

"Usin' leylines and magic crystals to make a man, it sounds more like gypsy voodoo than a science experiment." Jet said with distaste, clicking off the open documents. A new window popped up, with only a single picture plastered upon it. Jet and Clive stared at it with mixed reactions. The Heart of Filgaia. The archaeologist thought it was a lovely treasure, perfectly cut by a jeweler's hand, but to Jet it was like looking at an old family photo, the picture completely new to him, but also oddly familiar.

But he had dealt with many gems before in his journeys and rare acts of outright thievery. Maybe he had stolen a gem just like that sometime in the past? The Heart of Filgaia was a particularly large gem, a very light aquamarine bluish green, in a brilliant cut that could fit snugly into the palm of a person's hand. It looked like a cross between an emerald and a blue topaz. No, he had never even seen a hybrid crystal like that before, let alone stolen one.

But still, it was familiar to him.

The archaeologist was analyzing the picture on the screen, rather than the object that it showed. His hand had crept to his chin in thought. "That is a professional photograph." He said knowingly. "It has been marked with an exhibit number and somebody has placed a small gella coin next to it so we can determine its proper scale. I am impressed."

The crystal must be worth a tidy sum, I ain't never seen a shade like that before. Jet found himself thinking, the rational part of his mind shoving away his prior amazement and sense of déjà vu. He was hardly a geologist, but had been a drifter long enough to be able to value treasure on sight. I'd like to get my hands on that…

And see if this phony report is right, too.

xxx

Far, far away, on the other side of the planet, a computer monitor clicked itself out of stand-by mode and connected to the same up-link as the terminal within the tower of Yggdrasil, showing the exact same picture of the Heart of Filgaia gemstone. It was accessing the very same computer file. Somebody was sitting in the chair before it, though 'sitting' was far too strong a word to use. It was more of a lazy, careless slouch. He was not even facing the computer screen, instead looking away at the floor from a right angle, regarding the person staining the clean sparkling tiles a nasty splotchy red.

Albert sniffled with that was left of his broken nose and inhaled a flood of his own blood, causing him to splutter and choke. Askew several feet away from him, well out of arm's reach was his useless gun. The figure on the computer chair crossed one leg over the other and held his chin in his hand, thinking hard, or perhaps, amused by something in front of him. "Well that's a mighty fine thing." He said piteously in a seldom heard green isle accent. "Look at what yeh've done now, yeh daft bugger. Blood all over me brand new floor! A mighty fine thing indeed!"

The acolyte of the Ark of Destiny snorted more of his own lost blood and scooted away a little, towards his gun. His elbow was set down in the splatter of bloodstains and caused it to smear on both his sleeve and the tiles as he crept away. The man on the chair was eyeing this distastefully. When Albert spoke his voice was plugged and stunted, sounding like he was trying to breathe through a blob of mincemeat. "You… hit me…" He burbled in astonishment, also angrily. "Why? …I didn't do anything to you, 'was just showing you how the computer program worked…"

The figure removed his hand from his chin and placed both of them, on his knees, leaning forward eagerly. "Yeh cult bastards can't even take a single jab to the face. Sad, really." His eyes narrowed accusingly. "Yeh had yer gun out when you was showing me the buttons. I don't like that, not when I've got me back to yeh." He smiled in a sinister fashion. "If yeh was a smart lad, boyo, I'd learn to duck before yeh learn the play with yer ARMs around me. Just a warning."

It seemed a little too late for it to be a simple warning, but Albert currently didn't have the guts to say that out loud. Whimpering, he pulled himself up into a sitting position and raise a hand to his face, stopping himself just a moment before realizing that if he touched his nose where it was broken, it'd hurt a hell of a lot more. "'M sorry…" He whined, taking quick breaths so as not to breathe in the blood. "It won't happen again…"

In a move that proved that the man who had wounded the young boy was particularly light on his feet, he sprung from his chair gracefully and slid down to seize Albert by the arm, slinging it around his neck and helping the boy to stand. The boy leant his head away from the other man's face, wondering what he would do if he ended getting bloodstains on his drifting clothes.

The man noticed this and laughed, truly finding it funny. "Don't yeh worry, lad. If I was going to hurt yeh more'n what I've done already, why, I would've hit yeh twice instead 'o just once. Lean yer head back a spot and the blood should stop flowing so freely. Good." Coughing, Albert did as he was told and got a nod of approval as a reward. The stony grey eyes of the older man looked at him in keen calculation. "Yeh'd better go talk to yer cult medic afore that wound begins to fester."

"Y-yes, Mr. Grady…" Came the reply, sliding out of his supportive hold. Albert had cupped his free hand over the bleeding part of his face carefully, hiding the wound while trying not to touch it at the same time. He could easily stand by himself.

Grady brushed his hands on his dark drifting clothing and kept them on his hips, standing in a position that made him look like a stern lecturing father. Short red hair the colour of fire framed his face that wore a cold smile. Holding himself like this for a little while, he broke his stance and went back to sitting at the computer screen. He didn't know how computers worked. He had needed somebody to teach him, as he could not read or write. "Hey, lad." He said curtly, looking at the pretty aqua gem on the screen. "What do yeh press to get sound from the terminal far away?"

Albert stumbled back towards the computer, making very sure to stand by Grady's side rather than at his back. His gun was still on the floor of the room, but still, it helped to be safe. Deftly, he pressed a sequence of keys into a program that he drew up on the screen, causing it to activate. He didn't know why Grady wanted to hear what was going on in a room half a world away, but again, he didn't want to argue. "If the computer you're trying to get into has a microphone attached, you should be able to pick up what is going on around the machine. If it has a microphone. I'm not sure if it does. If nothing happens it's not my fault…"

The red-haired man smiled. "I wouldn't blame it on yeh if it didn't work, lad!" He said quickly and pleasantly. Behind the pleasantries something nasty was watching through him. "Yeh can't take responsibility for a machine. Go get yer nose patched up. The smell is workin' me up."

"Uh… yeah." Albert agreed, beginning to back off. He wanted the burning pain to go away.

"One last thing, by the way." Grady added, not looking away from the screen. He was still smiling at the screen coldly, well aware that Albert knew that the smile was solely for him. "If yeh tell anyone where yeh got that busted honker, and I mean anyone, I'll kill yeh." The fact that he said this so plainly and simply, without any pretensions in his tone convinced Albert that what he was saying was the truth. A cold chill of terror crept up his spine. "As far as yeh're concerned, yeh fell down some stairs onto yer face. Right?"

This was a drifter. A bounty hunter. A man who killed for a living.

It wasn't just small talk. It was a promise.

His words were small and shaky as they slipped out of his throat. They were nearly halted by the terrible state his face was in. The blood that had poured out of his nose was drying and giving him a comical-looking moustache. "Right, Mr. Grady…" He squeaked, and then left the room as quickly as he possibly could.

Now that that annoying disturbance was out of the way, Grady sighed contentedly and put his legs up on the table the computer was on, harshly kicking the keyboard to the side with his thick black drifting boots. It's not like he knew what was written on those funny little keys anyway. It was what was on the screen and speakers that entertained him, as it had all been set up perfectly. He could sit here for as long as it took the party to get started.

From the computer came a sound of rustling, and then of distant footsteps.

"Hey, Virginia…"

Hell, he could wait all fucking night.