The thunderous salvos rained nigh ceaselessly from the smog-choked skies above, slamming into the earth and kicking up great plums of dust and dirt. The Garlean attack ship dove below from the safety of the dark clouds to survey the extent of its broadside, its powerful searchlights scouring the pockmarked battlefield for any signs of surviving insurgents, finding little but shattered rubble. The crimson-clad Garlean commander narrowed his eyes underneath his scowling visor, his computer-assisted scans bringing up nothing.
"Ahoy there, lads!"
The cry came from above the airship as the commander and his pilots, gunners, loaders, and crewmen gawped slack-jawed at the camera feeds. Amidst the storm clouds hovered a small yet brilliant shining aura, illuminating the night sky in a golden glow. And in the epicenter of it all lay their target: one Bojiin Bazra, the so-called "Sunset Jacket."
"FIRE ALL GUNS! I WANT HIM TORN TO PIECES! NOW!"
Bojiin's eyes burned hot with the light of the sun, his body glowing with immense reservoirs of stored aether. The Highlander smiled a toothy grin, jutting a thumbs-up at the airship as he seemingly faded from existence. Flak shells and machine-gun fire sought to cleanse the very heavens of him. The projectiles exploded in a destructive bloom, missing him entirely. He reappeared when the smoke cleared, sliding right beside the ship's thick steel hull and, with a grunt, punched a hole clean through the hard surface. He ripped a large section of the plating off, watching it tumble to the ground below. Furious gunfire greeted his entrance as he slipped, dodged, shuffled past every bullet, rapidly closing the distance between himself and his foes. He wore a wide, mad grin as his fists crashed into the Garlean soldiers, crumpling and folding them one by one in lightning succession, sending men flying through the ship's many breakable, amply-sized...windows.
"...huh. I coulda...just...nah, I'll keep it in mind fer next time," Bojiin murmured to himself.
One particularly swarthy Roegadyn, growling underneath his gas mask and clad from head to toe in a strange steel suit bedecked with hoses and valves, swung a thick arm wildly at Bojiin, narrowly missing him as the Garlean's arm tore a path through monitors and machinery. Bojiin, eyes wide, whistled to himself as he cocked a brow. "Tha's gonna cost ye a pretty pence from yer paycheck, alright, ain't tha' right, Commander?"
"STOP STANDING AROUND AND KILL HIM! KILL HIM NOW!" screeched the Commander, frothing at the mouth in relative safety far behind a wall of his men.
The Roegadyn roared as his suit hissed and seethed, an awful greenish-yellow fluid pouring directly into the man's veins. The ship's inner hull reverberated with the sounds of bones snapping, muscles straining, and blood pumping as the Roegadyn grew thrice his size, his suit cracking and bending at the outward pressure. Bojiin halted his forward path, watching the gruesome display in morbid curiosity.
"...alright, that's…eugh…that's uh–now, what say ye to opening up to a parley-" was all Bojiin could manage before he was lifted off his feet, slamming into the ceiling far above. His fall to the floor was cut short as the Hypertuned Roegadyn crashed his meaty fist into the Highlander, sending him careening through the wall, leaving behind a Bojiin-shaped silhouette of a hole.
"FORM RANKS! FIRE INTO THAT HOLE!" barked the Commander as his men hastily knelt and let loose a savage barrage of rifle fire, followed by the row behind them, and another row, and another, and another.
Silence reigned, intercut by the harsh sparks of severed wires, the monstrous breathing of the Hypertuned Roegadyn, and the howling air pouring in from the gap of the outer hull. The Commander moved to wipe beads of sweat from his brow, his gauntlets meeting his helmet instead. He snapped his glare to the Bojiin hole.
"...right...that hurt...*a lot*. 'Spose it's time ta get SERIOUS, me hearties!"
A beam of pure, raging light burst from the hole as the Hypertuned moved to intercept the beam, howling in pain as it bored into him, the room smelling of burnt flesh and molten steel. The energy ceased suddenly, the Hypertuned staring at its damage and roaring with fury. Bojiin sailed through the hole, his clothes torn and ripped, his tanned, golden muscles exposed to the elements as it flexed and rippled into a hefty punch. The blow blasted into the Hypertuned, grunting with the force of the impact. Undeterred, the giant snatched Bojiin by the throat, slamming him to the floor and knocking the wind from his lungs. The creature raised both of its massive arms, crashing down and cracking the steel surface beneath with the blow. It huffed in bewilderment at the sight of nothing but the damaged floor, searching for his missing target until–
"Miss me, darlin'?"
–it found its answer in the form of a crushing blow to the back of its skull, with Bojiin's flaming heel right behind it. Without missing a beat, the Highlander launched into a savage storm of kicks, blasting a blurry whirlwind of blows as the air snapped with the staccato sound of unceasing strikes. Each hit blew off a sizable chunk of the Hypertuned's suit, revealing a writhing, pulsating mass of corrupted, bloated flesh. It was more monster than man, its yellowish-green skin covered in a thin layer of sweat and a mucus-like film. Enraged, the beast grabbed Bojiin by the leg, reeling him over its head, and bashed him against the floor, the ceiling, and the walls before sending him flying once again. The Highlander's aura burst into golden flames as he halted his forward momentum, righting himself upright and floating in the air, cracking his neck, his knuckles.
"RIGHT, tha's 'nough toyin' fer now, eh? Time ta END THIS! HIYAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Bojiin bellowed as he dashed forward, careening into the Hypertuned with his fists a-blur, crashing into the monster with immense violence. Crouching low, his hand filling with light, Bojiin let loose a bone-shattering battle cry as he rocketed towards the beast's chin in a soaring uppercut, as thunder crackled in the ship's interior. The Hypertuned teetered unsteadily as slowly but surely tumbled downwards, scattering the men beneath him to avoid being crushed by its immense frame.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GET UP! FORM RANKS OR I SHALL HAVE YOU SHOT FOR DESERTION! RETURN TO YOUR POSTS! FORM U–"
The words died stuck in the Commander's throat as Bojiin zoomed past the Garlean conscripts, coming face-to-face with the stunned officer. The Highlander jutted a finger, startling everyone present out of their skins–none more than the commander–as he waggled his index finger back and forth. Bojiin pointed to the unconscious pile of contorted, corrupted meat with a thumb, raising his fists and popping his knuckles as he closed them finger by finger.
The Commander said nothing, merely shaking his head slowly, methodically.
Bojiin, satisfied, flicked his nose with a thumb, jerking his head to the exit hatches–and the improvised "entry door" Bojiin so thoughtfully and recently fashioned.
The Commander nodded steadily.
"ALL HANDS, ABANDON SHIP–" began the petrified Commander before he realized that his men had long since obeyed that order, leaving him the only one aboard with the unstoppable force of nature. The Commander nodded with a jumble of hurried words that vaguely resembled thanks, fleeing towards the hole in his ship and deploying his parachute only after he put a good distance between him and Bojiin. The Highlander, with some difficulty, given the creature's heft, slipped a few diver's packs over the broad shoulders of the Hypertuned and launched him out the "doorway," parachutes already deployed as the hulking monstrosity floated gently earthward.
"Now I just need ta…whoa…"
Gritting his teeth, he fought to steady a spinning world as his stomach threatened to hurl the contents of the entire week's worth of food and drink. He sank to one knee, retching pure aether as splotches of light covered the decks. Pain wracked his body; a million teeth sinking into his flesh and pulling at his sinews. Regaining some of his wits, he looked up in time to see a spire peeking through the clouds–the Alliance waypost if he remembered correctly. The cooks there served good food; the cook used to work at The Bismark in Limsa. Good man. He idly thanked Tsurugi for taking him to the waypost to reinforce this flank; it would be a shame indeed if they lost such a talented cook to the Garleans.
…
… "THAL'S BALLS, TSURUGI'S DOWN THERE!"
Bojiin scrambled to his feet, his body struggling to contain the buildup of light-aspected aether that threatened to overwhelm him with every haggard step he took. He shucked a parachute pack for himself as he stomped down deep into the insides of the Garlean war vessel.
"Gotta…end this…quick…" he muttered as he belched gouts of energy, cutting through the ship's interior. Half running, half stumbling, he hurried towards where he thought the ship's core was, the dull sounds of the steady humming of the engine drive calling him forward. The growl grew to a fevered pitch behind a set of bolted doors sealed with a keypad.
"Alert: ship structural integrity compromised. Breach detected in: CIC."
"Bah, shut yer trap 'n lemme in, or I'll punch yer…wires…out, I s'pose. Ya stupid machine."
"Access Denied. Authorized personnel onl–"
Another concentrated beam of light melted the doors–and the computer along with it, to Bojiin's brief delight. His smile turned to a pained grimace as he clutched his stomach, slipping on the stairs and plunging painfully down. He collided against the drive core, lifting his head to marvel at the throbbing azure heart of the entire ship, emanating a strange sort of warmth. He crawled to the control console as a mess of buttons labeled in an engineer's delight's worth of fancy words, detailing exactly which switch did what.
It was a shame he never returned his "sister," Solaire's, request to have her teach him how to read.
In sheer, sweaty desperation, Bojiin pressed, pulled, flipped, bashed, pushed, and cranked every input he could find in an attempt to halt the ship's forward momentum. Unfortunately, the attack craft continued to lumber forward, but his incessant switching succeeded in turning the core from a passive blue to a very, *very* angry red.
"Warning: manual self-destruct sequence initiated. Condensing ceruleum fuel core to super-critical levels…"
"WHERE'S A BLOODY THINKBRAIN WHEN YA NEED 'EM?" Bojiin wailed, coughing a splotch of glowing fluid into his hands. He grimaced, disgusted at the display, when his eyes lit up in inspiration.
Groaning to his feet, Bojiin squared himself to the core, clapping his hands together as he willed the pain to subside, to the fringes of his mind long enough to focus, to breathe. In, and out, in…and out…the light within began to condense, concentrate, no longer a chaotic mass pushing at his being, but filling his every sense, extending outwards and gathering strength, immense, impossible strength. He felt weightless as he found himself giggling from the sheer jubilance, the thrill of the sensation, the universe itself pouring its essence, its very being into his thoughts, his feelings, wanting, needing to release the will of his existence in one singular action. He felt light, he felt free, he felt–
"THE MIGHT OF SHINRYU! ONE ILM PUNCH!"
Tsurugi loosened another arrow as it flew true, sinking into the gaping maw of a Magitek armor as it was about to unleash a salvo upon the Alliance ranks, erupting instead into a brilliant explosion when the reaction backfired onto the machine–and its pilot. She was suddenly thrown onto the ground, not from the Magitek, but from the skies above as a Garlean attack craft shuddered, convulsed, and burst into smithereens in a blaze of azure. Adjusting her eyes to the blazing luminance, she thought she espied a Hyur-sized figure plummeting to the earth, limp and listless with a parachute pack on his back. But, it was not just any Hyur…this one was her Hyur.
"Gods above, Bojiin!"
Without sparing a second to lingering thoughts, she nocked an arrow, training it on the path of the falling Highlander. Breathing steadily, her arms stock-still yet relaxed, her fingers slid gently from the string as the arrow whistled above the raging battlefield. Its song of salvation reached Bojiin's ears as he raised his head weakly towards the sound, listening to its dulcet tones when it snagged into his parachute cord and released the cloth from its pack, blossoming outwards.
Tsurugi sighed with relief, sagging her shoulders as she finally realized the extent of her exhaustion. She raised her bow and aimed it behind her, an arrow already drawn, readied, and loosed to the surprised Garlean who thought flanking her would succeed, felling him with a dull thud. Then, rolling her neck, she shouldered her bow behind her, leapt from her position, and darted towards her Highlander, bouncing past foxholes and wire fences as she reached Bojiin's position. With her arms outstretched, the Highlander slipped gently into her embrace as the Roegadyn cradled his badly-wounded body, his torn clothes barely clinging to his bleeding frame. Fought them she tried, but the tears rolled down her cheeks nonetheless.
"You stupid, stupid man…we would have been fine…" she sobbed, nuzzling her face into his neck.
"...you…you got…any leftovers…from that Bismark cook…Tsurugi…" he coughed, clenching his teeth in agony.
"You're torn to pieces, and all you can think about is pork fried rice?" she replied, aghast and tormented at the sight of him.
"...well…when I was…f-floatin' down a ways…I thought of you…and Myna…but I can't eat you guys…wouldn't…taste good…"
Tsurugi giggled despite her emotional turmoil, gingerly hoisting the man onto her shoulders as she responded with not a *little* bit of venom, "You can certainly eat us in other ways, and after the stunt you pulled, we won't be taking "no" for an answer…but only after we get you healed up and running again. And don't you ever do something like that again. At least…not without me."
Tsurugi stopped, looking him in the eyes as she sniffled. Bojiin falteringly lifted his hand to brush her tears away and smiled a toothy smile, shooting her a thumbs-up.
"Promise."