AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey everyone. You may have noticed that I put in a three chapter update this time. However, I did this for a reason. I'm going on vacation to the Smoky Mountains this week. I won't be back until Saturday. So I gave you guys a couple chapters to tide you over, so don't feel you have to read them all at once...


Five Months Later

Things had been eventful over the passing weeks. And Ragnar was happy to see the changes.

Every day, Ragnar continued the same regimen. The running, the swimming, the gardening, the wasps… All of it. Ragnar drained himself of strength every day, and for the first two weeks it was terrible. But after that…each day he began to see himself grow a bit stronger. As time wore on, Ragnar was able to run a bit longer before slipping into a walk or break. He was able to swim for a few more seconds before going under. He could dig more readily with his arms. He got fewer stings. The pile of rocks tunneled out was larger and larger with each passing day. All of his exercises went quicker too.

Ragnar's thin body continued to remain so, but it began to grow hard and firm. As his clothing deteriorated from the amount of work and toil he put them through, he revealed muscles that grew in size and power daily. He continued to train with Bahamut. He learned the basics, walked through certain moves, and learned all the standards guards and strikes. Then he began to spar. Each time, Bahamut ended up winning hands down at the end. But each time…Bahamut put in a bit more speed and power. And despite doing so, Ragnar was able to keep up longer and longer.

Ragnar continued to reach, speeding through the tactics and new skills in swordfighting. True to what Bahamut suggested, he surprised Bahamut with them in their spars. Most of the time Bahamut easily got out of it or deflected it. But once or twice…he made the esper actually react in the mildest hint of surprise. He continued to practice these on his own time, making time to do so for it. And he was fast developing his own sword technique, based on a fusion of Odin's style and the Cetra's ancient style.

Bahamut pushed him harderas he began to complete tasks more quickly. Heraised up morning exercises to sixty, and sat on Ragnar during pushups. He made Ragnar run an extra mile. He added a fourth wasp. And yet…Ragnar took this all in stride. He responded with working harder than before. He had now instilled in him a sense of improvement and self worth from that improvement. He knew he was getting stronger and faster, and he tackled each new challenge with more ferocity. He didn't know it…but the esper was very pleased. Where Ragnar had started off whining and uneasy at first, he was quickly moving into being a very disciplined individual. Just as Bahamut had predicted, he did have the right qualities inside him. They only needed the impetus to come out. And the esper was proud of what he was doing. He began to see the greatness within Ragnar be unleashed.

Soon, within a few more months' time, he knew that Ragnar would show he had more than just physical capability. He would begin to apply his intellect and prudence as well…and then he would truly be a sight to behold. He was already preparing him, having added the last element a month ago. He began Ragnar on his own meditation…his own time of the day to sit and collect his thoughts, and find things within his mind he hadn't known existed before…


The young man, now tight with muscle as he gleamed with sweat in the morning sun, was finishing up his jogging five months after he had begun. A week ago, Bahamut had increased his weight load to 75 pounds. But despite the strain, he was pushing on. He could now jog the whole way on his morning run, and even with the added weight he was adapting well. He even smiled in the midst of his struggling as he ran down the road, headed toward the riverside where he normally began his swimming for the day.

As he rounded a corner, he saw Bahamut calmly waiting there for him, hands behind his back and watching for him to arrive. He gave a mild smile as he saw him approach, pleased that he was so easily adapting to the new weight. Ragnar trotted a bit closer, but then slowed to a halt as he arrived in front of him. He stopped, bent down a little, and began to pant.

Bahamut gave a nod to him, and looked to the sky. "Well now, pupil of mine…" He murmured aloud. "It looks like a new record. Fifteen miles in two hours."

Ragnar grinned a bit as he panted, glad to get the acknowledgement. However, he shook his head, letting his wet hair scatter his sweat across the ground. "Not good enough… I'm still jogging most of the way. I need to get to where I can run it."

Bahamut smiled at this and gave a snicker. "And to think…five months ago I had to twist your arm to do ten."

The youth grinned again, but then leaned up soon after. He began to eagerly swing his arms. "Master…I think I'm ready to go ahead and try the rapids now. I'm feeling really energized today."

The esper shook his head at this. "Cooling down is important as well, if you don't want to pull muscles and get the maximum effect of your exercise. Besides, I've got another item for you to do before you begin." Here, the esper gestured straight behind him, deeper into the woods. "There's a rock ridge back there with a berry vine. I noticed on the way down that they just ripened today. Why don't you swing by there and collect some for lunch today?"

Ragnar panted for a moment, but then leveled a critical glare at Bahamut, although he continued to smile. "Couldn't you have done it yourself, master?"

The esper merely smiled at that. "That's what pupils are for. And don't talk back."

Both men chuckled at that in response. However, in the end, Ragnar turned in the direction that Bahamut indicated and gave a nod. "I'll be back before the fifteen minutes is up. I don't mind doing a little climbing today too. Maybe we could add that…"

As the young man turned and began to run in that direction, Bahamut sighed and shook his head at him. He crossed his arms as he saw him vanish into the woods. "And people say I'm the masochist…"


To Ragnar, this was a pretty good cool down. The forest was much cooler than running on the paths, especially because it was summer. Here he was in the shade, and the forest was still damp from a recent rain. Even with the weights on, a light jog through here wasn't that much of an addition. He still felt pumped from the first bout of running anyway.

Ragnar looked up ahead to see if the hill was coming into view yet. It hadn't at this time. The Sleeping Forest, as Ragnar had learned that this was called, could be very thick in most places. It was very easy to lose one's way, especially since the canopy usually blotted out the sun. But Ragnar had been here before. He knew that it was only about a half mile from where he jumped in the river to the place that Bahamut had spoke of. After all, he was the first person to spot it, while looking for food one day. However, the berries weren't ripe at the time. Any sweet berry that Ragnar could get was a welcome change. Unfortunately, his diet still consisted mostly of insects. He had brought up switching to meat more than once to his master, but Bahamut refused. He told him insects were higher in protein. Regardless of that, Ragnar thought with a frown as he looked back down and continued to run ahead, he'd like to get some meat soon, before he eternally had the feeling of beetle legs in between his teeth. He supposed he could try fishing ag…

The young man suddenly cut off his train of thought andfroze. He spotted something ahead. Immediately, he went silent, and hoped that he hadn't alerted it already. Nervousness came over him, and he felt his palms begin to sweat with his growing anxiety. Just a bit down from where he was, just behind a tree…was something that didn't belong in the forest. It was blue fabric. He could just see the edge of it poking out from behind the tree. It was a bit tattered and dirty, but he could see precious little elsefrom where it was situated. However…he did know where he usually saw that color…

The uniforms of New Shinra soldiers.

The youth looked ahead and swallowed. Had he been spotted? Was the person ahead waiting for him? He didn't know. For a moment, he was at a loss of what to do. He left Ragnarok back in the City of the Ancients, but by now he was fairly strong himself. Yet all the strength in the world wouldn't save him from a well-placed bullet. The fabric stayed motionless behind the tree. It didn't seem to react to him. Ragnar frowned. He could try to sneak back… If he was trying to ambush him ahead, then it wouldn't matter if he did that. But at the same time…he didn't need New Shinra knowing he was here.

In the end, he decided to act. Ragnar hadn't been wearing his leg weights for five months and not learned how to be very light on his feet. As quietly as he could, he began to step forward, zeroing in on the blue cloth as he did so. Luckily, most of the forest floor of the Sleeping Forest was uncovered, because the thick canopy allowed no undergrowth. And in summer, there were no leaves to crunch. He was able to advance without a sound, his thin shoes stepping easily into the soft dirt. Within a few moments, he had closed half the distance. The person ahead still didn't react…didn't make a sound. Perhaps he was waiting for him too. However…he was still sure that he couldn't see him. At least…he thought he was. He wasn't leaving any noise or sight…

At last, Ragnar reached the tree. He held a moment, and then with a quick and nimble move, and as silent as a falling leaf, Ragnar twisted himself around and pressed his own back against the same tree. He still heard nothing on the other side. Here, Ragnar forced his breathing to not be so heavy. Cold sweat mounted on his brow. This was it. Did he wait for a move to be made? Or did he go on? Something told him to wait…but, in the end, he supposed that Bahamut's tenet about letting the enemy make the first move didn't apply here. However…he did have one strategy.

Very slowly, not making a noise, Ragnar bent down low to the ground. His fingers carefully reached out across the forest soil, and closed around a good sized stone near the base of the tree. He silently rose again, and turned his head behind him, almost as if he could see the person on the other side of this tree. He thought a moment. To Ragnar's left was the direction he came. That's probably where he was expecting. The other side might be less guarded. Reaching a conclusion on strategy, Ragnar moved. Quickly, he ducked out of one side of the tree and flung the stone to his left. It clattered against another tree, breaking the silence of the forest. Using this as surprise, he wheeled around the opposite side and meant to lunge at the person.

But in the end…Ragnar was the only one who was surprised…and horrified.

"Marion…" He breathlessly uttered.

A woman was slumped against the backside of the tree, wearing tattered, rag remains of a Shinra uniform. It wasn't her own, but had been used obviously as throwing on a bit of clothing at the last minute. It was muddy and torn in many places. The woman herself was dirty and sweat covered. Her eyes were closed, and her face was twisted in weak agony. The most shocking thing of all, however, was a great bloody wound at her side. It was from not one, but two bullet holes. It seemed to have dried by now, but it had bled a lot while still open, covering her sides and hands with blood. She had been lying there since last night, obviously, as a puddle of it was still gathering underneath her. Faced with all of his pain and misery in front of him…Ragnar still managed to notice one thing.

It was his older sister.

The youth immediately threw himself down at her side. He looked over her, mind racing with panic, and didn't know what to do. He looked anxiously at her and around, not sure where to start. In the end, he turned to her face. Reaching out with his hands as gently as he dared, he cupped her own loosely hanging head in his hands and raised it up.

"Marion!" He called out to her. "Marion, say something!"

The woman continued to look weak and pained for a moment. But then, her eyes slowly cracked open, as she seemed to hear him. Slowly, she turned her head in his grasp up to him. When her eyes finally rested on his face, they seemed to open a bit wider. Her pain vanished as she saw him.

"Ragnar…?" She asked aloud. "You're…still alive…?"

The young man earnestly nodded. "Yes, Marion. I am. Lie still…"

Slowly, a weak smile began to spread across the woman's face. "They…told us…you were dead… The New Shinra…"

Ragnar continued to stare anxiously at his sister at this, but his eyes widened a bit. "The New Shinra? Marion…did they catch you?"

"We never…got away…" The woman slowly answered. "They were already…guarding…the trail… They caught me…and mom…"

The young man stared in wide-eyed alarm. This whole time, he had hoped that his mother and sister had found their way to the mainland, had gotten clear from the hell of the Northern Continent. But now…he knew he was wrong. They had been prisoners too this whole time. They had probably been taken to a different labor camp. That's why he never saw them. But that only meant…they had done this to her…

Ragnar felt a rush of wind at his side, very sharp and sudden. On feeling it, he turned quickly away from his sister and to the source. Bahamut was suddenly standing there, looking erect and dark as he glared down on Ragnar and Marion. Soon after, he bent down to her side as well.

"I sensed a dying energy…" He explained.

Ragnar's eyes widened again. Dying? It filled him with terror. He felt his eyes begin to tear. He quickly got away from Marion's side, letting Bahamut come in instead. The esper looked down over her wounds and her body. He stared at her with those calculating eyes…and in the end inhaled and exhaled deeply. His look was stern.

"Can you help her?" Ragnar asked, trying not to quiver in voice.

"She's badly infected…which negates my ability to make others regenerate." Bahamut grimly answered. "I'll try." With that, the esper closed his eyes and held his hands over her. Ragnar soon felt the air begin to hum, and saw some sort of charge between him and her. But he ignored this now. He turned back to his sister. He reached out and touched her again, running his hand along the side of her head across his hair and skin.

"Stay with me, Marion…" He told her, reaching down his other hand to take hers, and grasp it hard. "You'll be alright. Hang on…" His voice was nearly begging.

The woman had never looked away from Ragnar for a moment. She seemed to not even notice that Bahamut was there. She continued to give a small smile to him. She seemed happy now.

"I wish…mom would have lived…to see you alive…"

Ragnar's eyes widened again. "Mom? Mom's dead?" He asked in a terrified voice. "Marion…stay quiet now. Just sit there…"

Marion blinked once, and then her grip tightened against Ragnar's hand. She gave him one steady squeeze with it. Ragnar smiled at that. He raised her own bloody hand and held it to his mouth with his own, letting Marion feel him. He continued to run his hand along the side of her head, smiling back at her and encouraging her. The woman blinked again at him…and then slowly shut her eyes. Her head slowly rolled out of Ragnar's hand… As Ragnar's smile melted away, and tears began to flow into his eyes again…he felt her grip loosen and then slowly slide out of his and back to the ground. Shemoved no more.

Ragnar's eyes stayed wide and open as he stared at her. The tears began to run from his eyes and down his cheeks, but he did nothing tostop them. Marion's blood was still on his mouth and in his hand as he slowly let it fall, staring at her the whole way. Bahamut's own look grew darker…and he slowly closed his palms and let his hands fall down to the ground again. Heexhaled slowly. He reached up to his head, took his hat off, and then bowed his head.

"…I'm sorry, Ragnar. It was too late." The esper slowly spoke. "Her spirit has returned to the Lifestream."

For a few moments longer, Ragnar continued to stare at her body, his eyes still wide open and stricken with shock and sadness. He saw her lay motionless there, quiet and still, and realized that he would never see her open her eyes again. He would never feel her grasp his hand again…or hear her laugh or speak or cry or anything else. The reality of it sank in slowly…as the hope of one day meeting her somewhere else on this world faded.

Slowly, Ragnar reached out and encircled his arms around her, and then pulled her close against his chest. He let his head slowly rest on top of hers. His eyes continued to stare out, and he did not make any sobbing noises. However, he continued to let the tears flow as he lowered his own head to hers, and he was not able to let her go or cease crying for the next hour.


Both men were somber as they stared at the pile of stones before them. They had to do it when burying her here, or some creature would come and defile the body. There wasn't much they could set up for a marker, other than a tombstone made of wood, and a hastily scrawled message across it reading, "Marion Vice". Bahamut had suggested burying her in the City of the Ancients, but most of the ground of the city was bare rock. And there were no other calm bodies of water to place her in like the body they found in the center. So they buried her on the outskirts, just outside the front entrance. It was late in the day now, and it was clouding over. The weather was symbolic of Ragnar's own mood, which had been killed so violently by what happened that morning.Eventually, he had begun to sob as well, when Bahamut finally took Marion from him and began to carry her back.

But now, he was dry. His face was stoic and hard, and as he sat against the ground with one arm balanced across one knee, he stared at the grave withthat expression. Bahamut knew he could offer little to say. He stood behind him with his own arms crossed, and was prepared to stay here as long as Ragnar wanted to. The wind whipped by them, pulling at their hair and clothing.

"I'm truly sorry, Ragnar…" Bahamut spoke up at last.

The young man looked ahead at the grave for a moment of silence longer. He slowly shook his head. "We buried one body…but I see two." He slowly responded, never looking away or changing expression. "My mother is dead too."

The esper bowed his head slightly. "I overheard." He responded. He slowly sighed, and looked back up. "Please believe me when I say I know what it's like. I won't be ambitious enough to say I know how you feel at this time…but I have seen my family and friends die constantly throughout the whole of my life. I know what it's like to lose loved ones."

Ragnar continued to sit in silence for a moment longer. His hand over his knee clenched into a fist and relaxed.

"…New Shinra has taken everything from me." He finally spoke aloud. "My home…my friends…the best years of my life…and now my family. I have nothing left. They took everything away."

"You still have yourself…and your memories." Bahamut responded.

Ragnar clenched his fist again. He glared at the grave, and his jaw began to tighten. He felt the passion in him begin to flare up.

"…They have to be stopped…right now."

The esper looked down to Ragnar at this. His own look was dark in response to it, and he was silent for a moment. "…They will be stopped."

"I don't want to waste time here any longer." Ragnar coldly responded. "I want to get them now."

The esper slowly sighed, and began to walk down toward Ragnar's side. "You're breaking the first rule I gave you, Ragnar. You're acting on impulse and being the aggressor. You're upset now…but now is not the time."

"They're killing everyone up north…turning us into slaves…working us to death…taking everything we have left…and they're killing the Planet." Ragnar responded fiercely. He still didn't look away, but he continued. "How many more people are going to die before I'm ready? How much worse is it going to get? What good is it going to do to stay here if everyone's gone when I get there?"

"Ragnar, at this point, you could get into a fight with a hundred men and win." Bahamut answered. "But in six months…you will be able to beat a thousand. I can tell what's on your mind, and I am telling you it is foolishness. You cannot go up there and expect to beat them alone. If you truly want to stop them, you will have to have a plan and hit them when they do not expect it. But you have to realize, deep down inside, that going up there would be foolish now. You are too upset. You'll act out of anger and passion, and it will lead only to trouble."

At last, Ragnar broke his eye contact. He rose to his feet, and spun around into Bahamut's face. The esper endured this for now, knowing that Ragnar was tempermental. He let him glare at him with his fists clenched, and his face now blazing with anger.

"They killed my sister and my mother! You can't expect me just to sit here and do nothing!"

"You are doing something." Bahamut retorted sharply. "You're preparing yourself to strike them back at your most powerful point. Do you think your mother would have wanted you to run in there half-cocked and get shot by a sniper's bullet, or that she would have wanted you to act in a way that would save the lives of the townspeople and preserve your own?"

"What do you know about it!" Ragnar yelled back. "Did you ever watch your sister die before your eyes and know there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it?"

Ragnar's felt his throat enclosed bywhat felt like steel. Now…Bahamut's eyes blazed with growing anger. The young man's own passion was deflated a moment, as he felt Bahamut raise him off the ground with his one hand, nearly throttling him as he did so. The esper's face was hard now as he glared at him coldly.

"Yes." Bahamut coldly retorted. "I did you the courtesy of not being presumptuous, young man. Do not anger me by doing so to me. I saw my sister explode and burn into nothingness before my eyes. Only I didn't see it happen in a pleasant forest. I saw it happen while the person who did it was torturing me, laughing at my misery, and daring me to do something about it…and I could do nothing in response. So don't dare talk to me of not understanding. I have experienced pain and agony you can't even imagine."

With that, Bahamut released the youth and let him fall hard to the ground. Ragnar coughed, winced, and clutched for his throat. The esper sighed as he looked down at him, and seemed uneasy. He didn't enjoy doing that just now, but in his mind it was the only way to make a stubborn human listen. He, for one, was not about to let Ragnar insult his own memories and anguish because he was so sore about his own. He let the youth continue to cough for a moment, but in the end he appeared to be calming down. As he breathed, his anger subsided again.

At last, the esper sighed and turned his head away. "…It's getting late, and we're both tired." He finally said aloud. "If you really want to do something…we'll talk it over tomorrow, after you've had time to let what happened today die down a little. But for now…just relax and try to take it easy."


The sun went down a few hours later. Of course, there were no more exercises that day. Bahamut normally would have thought it would have been good to run off the tension, but knowing the anger that Ragnar had, he let it slide for now. Neither of them felt like eating. In the end, Ragnar complied. He turned and went back to the shell house as he had so many times before, and once there he had gone to bed. Bahamut himself always stayed up a bit longer, even after the sun went down. However, both of them were going to be turning in early that night. Eventually, he went off on his own. Bahamut never slept in the City of the Ancients. He told Ragnar that he'd go out to a cliff in the area, and there he would stretch out in his full body to recline. The same went for that night. After that, a few hours of darkness passed.

The interior of the shell house never went dim. The lights were on at all times. However, all was quiet now. Even in summer, no animals or insects moved in. The place was as still as a tomb. The silence continued now as it grew later, and not a soul moved around in the city. All was peaceful.

It was at that time, close to midnight…that Ragnar opened his eyes from where he lay.

Ragnar knew that Bahamut's sensory capability was great. Almost legendary. Therefore, he tried his hardest to not think of anything, to keep his mind blank and clear so that he wouldn't pick up on any stray thoughts. At the same time, he slowly and silently pulled back the blanket that he covered himself with. Once that was off, he quietly rose to his feet. He listened sharply to his surroundings now, and made sure to stay silent as he began to walk around the room. He began by silently removing the weights from his arms, legs, and torso. When he did, his body screamed for relief…and he felt as light as a feather. He'd have no problem being light on his feet now. He was amazed at howstrong he felt. But for now, he ignored it. Looking constantly outside for any change in the wind, Ragnar went over to where Ragnarok lay. Bahamut had built a sheath for it so that Ragnar could wear it across his back some time ago. He took this up, and then he reached down for the only other article of clothing he owned. One of the thicker blankets had been made into a cloak for him on rainy days. Luckily, it was a dark color. Ragnar took this up now, and silently fastened it around his neck. He pulled the hood over his head, and secured his sword on his back. After that, he crept to the entrance of the house.

The youth stopped there a moment, looking outside and around. He still heard nothing, and saw nothing. He thought that Bahamut might be here tonight. If he was anywhere in the city, this would fail. He'd hear him easily. But if he was out on the rock ridges, he had a chance. He was indeed nervous about this, but he forced it down. He was good about controlling his emotions. Once he was sure the way was clear, he finally decided to take a chance. Inhaling deeply, and trying not to breathe, he stepped outside of the house.

Nothing. Just the silence of the night.

Ragnar looked around again, but then finally decided it was alright. Moving as fast as he dared, while staying quiet, he made his way to the front of the grove. Despite the stone and shell ground, not a single sound went out. He worked his way down the path at the entrance, and kept going down until he reached the city itself. Once there, he took the first branch off to his left, and began to work his way back into the city. He stayed as concealed as possible, hiding in the shadows when he could. He didn't dare make a single noise. He still didn't know where Bahamut was exactly, but he hoped he was asleep. That might give him some more leeway.

It took thirty minutes before Ragnar made his way to the tunnel he had hewn with his bare hands. He had taken on new tasks since then, involving more construction on the city itself. However, there was now a good rock passage through here, and it provided a convenient and secret way out of the city and back to the rock valley behind it. From there, after working one's way up the same rock wall Ragnar had descended months ago, he could go straight back to the Icicle Inn area. But once here, he paused and looked ahead. He examined all of the shadows, looked to the heavens, and tried to see any possible way that Bahamut could be hiding ahead. In the end, he saw nothing. Swallowing, he stepped forward and made his way further down the trail, and then through the passage that he had hewn. Soon, he was on the other side, and moving down the rock path.

It was another hour before Ragnar began to feel the slightest bit in the clear. He had to hike silently up the valley until he reached the cliff, and then had to climb up it as well. He used the rocks this time rather than the ladder. It creaked too much. This took a bit longer, but he had no other choice. He finally made it to the top, and then began to go back through the cave again. After journeying a bit further, it opened up just ahead. It was still dark out, and Ragnar could see little ahead of him. But he knew that this was the exit. He went up to the entrance, and stayed in the frame for a moment. He looked out once again, checking for anything, but in the end decided it was clear. He turned back one last time to look behind him, and then swallowed and walked out.

Despite what Bahamut had told him, he couldn't just train any more. He needed to do something now. Perhaps he couldn't fight New Shinra all by himself. But he could do something. And that was what he had to do. It was the only way he could get that image of his dying sister out of his mind.

No matter what, Ragnar was going to see if he was hero material tomorrow.


Just another day in the mines.

Mack Router thought of this as he chipped away at the rock wall. To his left, he saw the next member in his unit pass out from exhaustion. One of the soldiers was struggling to get him to his feet. To his right, one of the other guards was dragging away the latest person who made a run for it. The other inmates were kind of used to it by now. Mack tried to push out the fact that this guy had been stir crazy for days, saying he was going to make a break for it. Everyone tried to talk him down, of course. It never went well. Besides, one of the automatic weapons could kill one of them too if they weren't careful. At any rate, the taskmaster watched as this bloody, bullet-riddled body was taken away, and gave a slight groan. With that, he turned back to the line and made a circling motion.

"Move up one man on this line."

Yes…just another day.

Mack had been a snowmobile mechanic working for one of the lodges at Icicle Inn three years ago. Now, he was just another peon. His hands, which used to be stained for days on end with engine grease, were now coated with other grime. His body ached every single day after spending ten hours in the mines, and he had scars just like everyone else from when they had a bad taskmaster. That, or whenever they caused trouble. Mack himself had two brands on his hand, so he wasn't that worried about being executed anytime soon. But that was only because he didn't cause trouble. It didn't mean he didn't resent every moment of his captivity.

He and other young men were working this tunnel of the mine. It had been opened only two days ago. Wiring in the ceiling fed a new string of lights through here, and some track had been laid in order to move out the rubble that the work crew now tunneled out. Mostly, they were digging in here for iron. New Shinra always needed more iron. In the past, they would string them up in a chain gain along the side of a new tunnel. But that just decreased mobility later. It turned out that leg shackles and a few guards with machine guns patrolling the area (which they were now) was more than enough. Now here they were, tunneling into the rock with pick axes and motorized drills, removing one bit of rubble after another. When the debris cart came by, they put the larger pieces in it. Occasionally, the ore car came by, and they dumped whatever pieces they could get in there too. It was silent, tedious, and a strain to work. However…it was that or a bullet in the head.

The taskmaster wasn't dressed in blue like the others. He was in more of an officer uniform, styled red. New Shinra still wore the uniforms of their old military. The insigias were a little different, that was all. Mack frowned privately, keeping his back to the taskmaster, as he went by. This one was somewhere in between easy and hard. But since easy was relative, it didn't really matter. What was bad luck was that someone had made a break for it only four hours into the shift. Mack knew what that could mean… And sure enough, he heard it sounded a bit later.

"Alright everyone," The taskmaster sounded, calling out over the picking. The men kept working, because they weren't told to stop, but they kept an ear open. "To give you all a bit more incentive to discourage your cellmates from trying anything as foolish as this man did…and to make up for his loss in quota…the next two water breaks have been canceled today."

Mack managed to learn to repress his groans. However, a guy further to his left wasn't so fortunate, and let out an audible curse. He got a gun stock to his back as a result. Moments later, it was agony that was heard through the tunnel over the mining. The man sighed and continued his work. Despite this, this taskmaster wasn't bad. He had a penchant for orders like the one he just gave, yes. But there were much worse ones. He supposed every army had its fill of recruits who had joined just to flex their muscles on other people. And this was no exception. Jones rewarded hard workers with more work, and slow workers with longer hours. Schmidt was a pervert who enjoyed other aspects of having power over his fellow man. Rhect enjoyed talking really nice and forcing other people to do the same as he gave them outrageous tasks, or they got a beating…or a mark if he was in a bad mood. Then there was Americ…Americ had been the worst.

But, Mack thought with a small smile, Americ won't be bothering us ever again.

There was no one Americ hated more than "the kid". They all called him that when he worked there. The guy started when he was seventeen…he was twenty by then. However, he was always very youthful looking, and he was always a bit on the skinny and shrimpy side. No one would know he was twenty to look at him. He looked closer to sixteen, hence the name "the kid". Americ always got trouble from the kid. The guy must have been suicidal, because he was always flirting on the line between acceptance and punishment. With Americ, it usually went to punishment. But the more he got beaten, the more rebellious he became. And to tell the truth, it was kind of fun to watch. When one wants to be rebellious, yet lacks the drive to do so, it was more of a relief to see another do it for them…and take the consequences. And the kid fit that bill nicely.

Then there was that one day the kid really made Americ mad. He dragged him to the back tunnels, and Mack listened to the silence afterward, expecting at any time to hear a gunshot. What they ended up hearing was a cavein…and the only one who came back out again was the kid. They all knew the truth immediately. None of them said anything, but secretly they all praised him in their hearts. Pity that was the last they saw of him. He was executed not too long after that. Even if it wasn't his fifth mark, there was no way they'd let him slide then.

However, thinking of the kid made Mack still feel a bit happy. It was good to see such an energetic guy in the midst of all this depression and darkness. New Shinra had broken quite a few people, after all. The others fell in line just to keep from having to endure the same torture. But not the kid. No…he went the whole distance in the end. He never turned aside once. To the slaves, this was their version of a hero. Mack only wished that another one would show up one day. Perhaps he would take that mantle…if things got worse than what they were now…

Mack heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned his head slightly, but didn't bother looking up. He knew what it was. A third soldier had entered their tunnel, and was now working his way down the line and to the back, ahead to the unused caves. That was another thing they owed to the kid. Ever since he managed to kill that one officer on his own, they sent people down frequently to make sure no one was hiding any weapons or other items back there, to be used when an officer went there alone. The soldier himself was dark underneath his helmet, his face stern and cold. Once he reached the end of the line, he switched on his flashlight on his machine gun, and then turned and proceeded past the other inmates. After a few steps further, he passed through the mine opening at the end, turned a corner, and disappeared.

The worker sighed and continued to chip away at the stone. There was nothing back there. No one had gotten free in months. Usually they didn't try unless they were going to run for it, and usually they were dead not long after. Even the kid hadn't planned on that pick axe being back there. It must have been left from a miner of an earlier age. At any rate, he kept chipping away at the stone.

A few minutes later, the soldier emerged again. Some of the inmates actually looked up to him at that. When Mack saw this, he turned back and looked a bit as well. The soldier was carrying something. It was a long, cloth bundle, with something thin and long inside. Mack couldn't tell what, but it puzzled him a bit. Once the soldier had come back a short distance, he came to a halt.

"Taskmaster, I think you better have a look at this." He called out in a disdainful voice.

The officer in red turned to him, and eyed the bundle. He turned to the guard to his right, and gave him a nod to watch the work crew, and then turned and began to walk over to the third soldier. The other guard was nearby, looking over at what was going on, but kept most of his focus on the inmates. Soon, he began to shove a few back into their work, for they were turning and attracted to what new thing he had brought out. At any rate, the officer reached the soldier after a moment.

"What is it?" He spoke in a somewhat quiet voice.

The soldier responded by pointing to the bundle. "I think we might have trouble."

The officer raised an eyebrow to this. "How so?"

The soldier didn't answer. Instead, like a flash of lightning, he made a fist, shot up, and drove it into the man's throat. The officer's eyes bulged as it crushed his windpipe, and he began to reach for it gagging. Before he could, however, the soldier reached up with his other hand, seized the officer by the side of his head, and then drove it against the rock wall to his side. The head hit with a sickening thud, and the man immediately collapsed to the ground.

The soldier behind him gaped in surprise, and was a moment from saying something or shooting. Before he could, the attacking soldier spun around with blinding speed, and drove his arm up to give him an iron palm to the nose. A cracking sound emitted, and blood flushed from the man's nostrils as he fell to the ground. The soldier across the room now saw this, and raised his weapon to fire. Again, before he could, the soldier ripped off the cloth from his package…and revealed a giant sword that flashed like red flame. With one easy gesture, he raised it up and swung it at the last soldier's direction. It struck him in the neck and went through. Moments later, without a sound, the blade embedded into the stone wall while the headless body of the guard…and his head…fell to the ground.

The other inmates froze. They saw this. Mack himself saw it, and his mouth hung open in surprise. The one soldier had disabled…maybe even killed…all three soldiers in less than two seconds. Now, they were frozen in stunned shock as they saw the one remaining soldier still standing, recovering from his actions. However, on seeing this, he wheeled around to them and spoke in a harsh whisper.

"Keep digging! If they hear the silence, they'll know something's up!"

Mack only took a moment to process that, but then understood. He turned and began to dig again against the stone wall. The other inmates soon turned and began to do the same. However, they did so only lightly now, and focused most of their attention on the man behind them. He began to reach up to his helmet and undo it.

"Who are you, and how did you do that?" Mack called behind him to the man as he did this.

A grin came from beneath the helmet, as he pulled it the rest of the way off. "What's the matter? Didn't my disregard for the taskmaster tip you off?" He asked as dumped it to the side.

The other inmates froze, and nearly stopped working all together. Mack himself felt his eyes enlarge, and he stared at the man beneath in total disbelief.

"I don't believe it…" One worker murmured.

"I'm seeing a ghost…" Another added.

Mack stared on a bit longer, as the man turned and gave him a smile. As he did, a grin slowly spread across his own face. "Well, well…I should've known you'd find someway out, kid."

Ragnar, in response, rolled his eyes. He gave Mack a small frown. "Mack…I've told you and the boys at least a hundred times…I hate that nickname."

"You clever little son of a gun…" Mack continued, still grinning at him. "I thought I'd seen the last of you. We all did. I'd give you a hug right now…if it wasn't for the fact that I'm a little preoccupied."

"How the heck did you get back here?" One of the other inmates called out. "We thought you were dead…and if you escaped we thought you'd be to Wutai by now…"

Ragnar looked up ahead to the entrance for a moment, and seemed to be a bit nervous. Mack watched him as he continued to cut away at the stone. After a moment or so, however, he turned back to the others and addressed them. "That third guard was new. Is he due back?"

Mack shook his head. "It's variable on how long he takes."

"How long to next water break?"

Another man gestured back to the fallen taskmaster. "The bastard cancelled it, but I don't think anyone else except these guys heard it. We should be due in about five minutes."

Ragnar gave a nod to this. "Good. In five minutes, we're getting out of here."

"How?" Mack asked.

Ragnar gestured behind him. "Same way I came in. One of the side tunnels. They had a guard there, but not nearly as bad as the main entrance. We should be able to sneak out. It's a bit rough, but we should be able to make it."

In response to this, however, Mack heard a sigh. He turned his head to the source, and found one of the men further down the line. He was one of the older ones. He looked ruefully at their savior, and then shook his head. "Sorry Ragnar…I can't leave. They got my wife and kid back in Icicle Inn. They might kill them if I try to run for it."

"I got a family too, man." Another person called on down the line.

However, to all of this, the youth merely gave a nod. "I know. That's why we're going to Icicle Inn after this…and liberating it."

The men once again gave a pause in their work. Now, they began to look more uneasy, and turned to each other with nervous looks. Escaping had been one thing, but actually getting into a fight with the soldiers was something else. No one was that eager to risk getting their blood spilled. Mack, for one, was more bold, but he looked around and saw no one else eager to join in on that line of thinking. In the end, he couldn't really blame them. They all began to bow their heads slightly as they went about their work. He finally turned back to Rand and looked uneasy.

"Ragnar…I don't think that's such a good idea."

The young man seemed to pick up on the loss of enthusiasm. In the end, however, he turned back to Mack. "Is the town still fortified like it was before?"

Mack gave a nod in response. "They're still using the inn as a barracks. They have twenty men on the street at any given time, with more of them inside. Then they've got the big gun in the center of the town on that tower. They can hit anyone who steps out of line."

"Just so long as nothing's changed." Ragnar answered. "I've been thinking about this all night. I have a plan. If we can't just walk in there and take them…then we'll have to kill the guard and move in. From where we move on the path, we can surround that city."

"Are you crazy?" One of the workers sounded, looking rather terror stricken at the idea. "It doesn't matter if we surround it! They're armed to the teeth! We've got twenty-five men here! We'll all get slaughtered, and our families with us!"

Mack slowly exhaled through his nostrils. He hated having to blow this perfect opportunity. But the worker could be right. What chance did they have? They were unarmed, untrained, and they had no armor or advantage. The New Shinra guard had the town fully infiltrated. He couldn't argue with this. In the end, he turned back to Ragnar helplessly, at a loss of what to say.

However…he and the other men soon went silent. They saw that something had come over the young man. Before, he was just a strong-willed kid. But now…his eyes blazed forth with some new energy. His face was harder than the stone they were cutting, and he suddenly seemed to be larger and more impressive…more commanding. As he looked around the room and glared at the people…those who felt fear suddenly felt ashamed to be afraid and look into his eyes at the same time. Mack was astonished. Such a change came over him. What had happened to him in the past six months?

"Last night…" Ragnar slowly spoke, yet in such a firm, strong voice that everyone could hear. "I heard my mother died, and I buried my sister. She was murdered by the New Shinra when she tried to escape. Since I started here…I've seen men, women, and children worked to death in these hellish conditions. I've had everything taken away from me, and for years all I did was watch. If you all want to stay here…continue being treated like dogs and garbage…then do it. But you better know this. When the day comes when some drunken soldier drags your wife out of her house…or when they beat your child for not digging a latrine fast enough…you better be prepared to look them straight in the eye, knowing that you had a chance to save them and you let it slip through your fingers. And you better be prepared to die like an exhausted animal along with them…because that's exactly what awaits you here. No one else is going to save you."

The men hesitated at that. The power and conviction with which Ragnar said these words made him seem like a different person, and it struck them to the bottom of their souls. It made all bow their heads and become small and meek in his presence. His voice conjured the images of such things in their mind, as well as all the times they saw their families hurt and abused, and could do nothing to end it. It made them feel guilt inside…but that was only for a moment.

"…He's right."

Mack raised his own head at this, and looked back to the line. Far toward the end was one of the older workers, in terms of how long he had been there. He was youthful looking as well, but he was tall, lanky, thin, and had jet black hair cut military style. His face looked thin and smooth. No one had ever heard this guy say anything before. He just silently went about his work. But now that he heard Ragnar, his eyes too began to blaze…lighting up with that same passion. Something that Ragnar had said had sparked his own spirit, and now it too burned. He turned and looked to Ragnar, and gave him a nod as his jaw tightened.

"My sister is in Icicle Inn, and I'm not going to let her rot there because I'm too scared. I'm with you."

Mack saw this, and heard the power and conviction be transmitted into this man, and get echoed back. On hearing it, Mack cracked a grin and gave a nod. "So am I."

The first man to talk of his family looked to the ground a moment longer. But then, he inhaled sharply, and his face turned hard and mean. He looked up to the youth and nodded. "Me too."

"And me." Another added.

"And me."

"I'm in."

"I'm for it."

"Let's do it."

One by one, the other men, scared and nervous before, began to speak in one accord under Ragnar. Mack, on his part, felt strange. For years they silently endured the power of New Shinra. They never complained, never stepped out of line…just accepted their servitude. They had begun to despair, thinking it would never end, and that this was their fate and lot in life. But now, after hearing Ragnar speak…all of them felt something new inside them. It was like a smoldering fire had been lit ablaze, and suddenly they all felt strong and noble inside…and most of all capable. Now, they felt like they had a purpose, and they were ready to act on it. Soon, all twenty five men had pledged themselves to Ragnar.

When he saw all this, the young man at last cracked a smile.

"Alright…so we're all in together." He announced. "Now we can do this. Keep in mind…it's still our home, and we still have the advantage. Now…we're going to tear the hell out of Icicle Inn to do this, but we'll save the people. We don't have a lot of time so we'll need to get moving right away. We're going to all need to be armed too. The pick axes will do for now, but if anyone around here can use these guns, we need you to."

The men paused for a moment, and everyone looked around to each other. None of them really had any experience with heavy firepower. There was a momentary pause. In the end, however, Mack raised a hand with a shrug.

"…I used to do a lot of deer hunting…"

"I guess that'll have to do." Ragnar responded.

"I think I could manage one of those too." The gaunt man from near the end of the line threw in.

Ragnar gave a nod. "Good. Now, do we have anything in the way of dynamite?"

Mack shook his head ruefully. "Sorry. When they're not clearing, they sure as heck don't let us near it." He hesitated after saying that, but then suddenly remembered something. "But wait…the taskmaster keeps about five remote blasting caps on him, in case of an emergency cave in!"

The youth nodded. "Great. One last thing, everyone. We're going to need the uniforms. I'll give someone mine…preferably a guy with one of the weapons…and then we can get the other from this guard. The officer would be too conspicuous…and I think that other guy's is too bloodstained. Two will have to do it. It's about break time, so we'll quit soon and grab this stuff before we get out out here. I'll explain the rest on the way to Icicle Inn. Let's do it."


To be continued...