Disclaimer: I don't own…you know the rest…
A/N: Back to Albel's group…And if anyone's wondering, Albel's Gunblade is based more on the sleek Final Fantasy 13 one instead of the bulkier Final Fantasy 8 one.
A/N 2: Just a few changes I'm gonna be making to Fayt's outfit and his Trigger Forms. While in Normal Form, his shirt will have red spearpoint designs on the sleeves, his pants will have blue flame designs, his vest will be adorned with a number of yellow crosses, his gloves will have black dragon symbols on them, and his symbol pendant will have an added wing design. In Valor Form, his hair turns red as well. Same thing goes for the other forms: blue hair in Wisdom, yellow hair in Master, etc.
Chapter 6: Chaos' Warm Welcome
The room was dark and creepy, the only light source coming from a small light atop a strange alien pedestal. Each of Albel's footsteps echoed throughout the room, which seemingly stretched endlessly in all directions. Darkness, fear, doubt, anxiety…the perfect place for those Flood aliens to ambush a man. Almost too perfect a place.
Not that Albel gave a damn anyway. His Gunblade, dyed with a deep hue of greenish ichor, was testament to that. Several had tried to ambush him earlier, meeting an identical fate to the many men, dragons, executioners and aliens that had foolishly tried to rally against the captain of the Black Brigade. He was ready for what each corner brought, ready for the new challenges that lay ahead of him. Except for maybe one.
Shrouded by darkness, Albel was unable to seethe great metal door ahead of him. Instead of stopping, like most ordinary men would do, he walked straight into it…
"Ouch, dammit…Holy Mary mother of Christ," cursed Albel out loud as he stumbled backwards into the darkness. Leaning against what felt like a wall, he reached out and felt something that he had previously never though off.
Great, smart old me didn't even bother to look for a light switch…
With the simple flick of the switch, what was previously an abyss of darkness suddenly flooded with light. Looking around, he realized that there was only one way forward: through that door that lay before him. Not a problem, he'd knocked down plenty of doors before, this shouldn't pose as much of a challenge.
Approaching the door, he gently tapped it with his sharp metal finger, and then listened for the vibration. None. It was pretty thick all right. Stepping back to think for a while, he then retreated several steps before surging forth, then leapt into the air and slammed his right foot into the steel door.
Still no effect.
Angered, he reached for his Gunblade, upholstered it and was about to give the damned door a piece of his mind; A nice big violent piece on the form of a shower of lead. Then, a voice from behind stopped him.
"Yoo-hoo!"
It was a high pitched voice, so high it was nearly comical and laughable. It was as if it was from a…
A clown!
Albel stood in disbelief. Standing a few feet behind him was a clown, dressed in a garb of purple complete with a jester's hat and a magic wand. He had dark purple eyeliner and lipstick, a face powdered white, and a huge, pointy nose.
"There's no need to use violence, boy!" said the clown in a taunting way as he approached.
"You see, this thing here," he continued, tapping his wand on the door, "Is very sturdy you see. Your little tricks would do no good. NO GOOD!" he thrust his head low, to emphasize his point, only to stare down the barrel of the Gunblade.
"Quiet maggot, or I'll pierce that big nose," threatened Albel.
"Wait, wait!" pleaded the clown, was he suddenly jerked himself upright and placed a hand over Albel's shoulder, "Why don't you hear me out, you've got nothing to loose eh?"
Convinced, Albel lowered the Gunblade.
"My name is Jester! And I know a thing or two about this place," Jester introduced, bowing low, "This thing here is a power generator for the entire sector! In order to open something, you need to do something. Can you figure that out boy? Or is it too big for your puny brain!"
Angered, Albel raised his Gunblade once more and started a wild hail of lead aimed at the feet of the clown, causing him to start jumping about comically in an attempt to dodge the bullets, "Quit joking worm, or do you want to keep on dancing?"
When the ammunition clip got exhausted, Jester was finally able to get a breather. Bending over, he panted heavily and used his wand as a fan. Then, hearing the click of a barrel getting loaded, he suddenly straightened up again.
"Actually," he grinned slyly, "I prefer a sword to be my partner. May I have this dance milady?" he extended his hand and bowed, taunting Albel further.
He wants a sword, he gets a sword! Fumed Albel as he flicked the switch which extended the Gunblade's lethal edge. Then, he slammed it down onto Jester's bent over body, only to watch as the clown disappeared from sight. Instead, his blade slammed against the lighted pedestal. The whole room then started shaking violently, and the gargantuan steel door slowly opened.
"Bingo! That's what that something is!" yelled Jester, re-appearing behind Albel, this time he was standing on the ceiling, "Remember that, kid! Write it down on your hand if you don't trust your head," his latest remarks earned him a hail of lead aimed at his legs again, forcing him into the same wild dance as before. Slowly, still dancing, he disappeared into the darkness that was of the corridor.
"I see, thanks. You still piss me off though."
Thanks to Jester, Albel was finally able to exit the strange dark corridor, and entered another series of corridors which looked well-lit, and more similar in design to those he passed before his duel with Cerberus. He was contemplating whether to enter what appeared to be an armory, when the sounds of a fight lure him to what appeared to be some sort of viewing gallery or balcony. Peering downwards, he saw a team of Brutes chasing after a human. A woman. Nel.
Despite being severely outnumbered and outgunned, and visibly injured, Nel was holding her own quite well. Swerving in and out of the many lanes of crates that littered the storehouse, she was able to avoid getting his by the plasma bolts of the Brutes' rifles, while always knocking some kind of hindrance to them, like emptying a crate of its contents or knocking over a shelf onto her pursuers.
She had great stamina, skill, and had a reputation to be as hard to catch as a shadow. He knew this all too well. It took him and his men several hours on dragons to catch two of her subordinates on foot. If the standard operatives of the Crimson Blades were so hard to catch, the leader would be much harder. And she had not disappointed him.
Once, a plasma bolt brushed past her thigh, causing her to crumple to the floor, but she found her footing fast, and took care of the two pursuing Brutes with quick stabs under her armpits.
But she would definitely get caught. There were too many Brutes.
True to his guess, Nel was soon surrounded by the Brutes, who slowly closed the distance between them and her, rifles leveled. Then, slowly, they shot at her, burning her but not killing her. Nel screamed in pain as she fell to the floor helpless against the superior numbers of aliens who took pleasure in inflicting pain onto her, and laugh heartily after each of her tortured screams.
As much as Albel wanted to help her, a wounded woman would only serve to hinder him in his bid for escape. He was about to turn and go when a voice from the other side of the room stopped him.
"She is human too. And you're not going to save her?" questioned the voice.
Shocked, Albel spun around to the direction of the voice. In the corner of the room, also viewing the battle was a huge figure shrouded in darkness. The figure then turned to face Albel as approached. It was an Elite.
"Who are you?" asked Albel, hand on the hilt of his Gunblade.
"I am the Arbiter, and I come in peace, so I would appreciate if you dropped the aggressive stance," answered the Elite. Hearing this, Albel relaxed, but still didn't buy the Elite's bid for peace.
"I'll never understand humans. They can do such sacrificial acts for the ones they care for, but they can do such atrocities towards others they hate. What say you human?" the Arbiter queried.
Sacrifice, love, care for…Albel's heart started beating rapidly. For some reason, he was unwilling to see Nel die. His heart ached every time he heard her scream. He wanted to tear his ears off in order to be spared from the pain of hearing the woman, who has once upon a time caused so much trouble for him.
Why the hell am I feeling like this? I'm "Wicked" damnit! What's warm and fuzzy gotta do with that?
Then, although his brain and every muscle in his body wanted to turn around and walk off, his heart caused him to turn back. With a poker-face, he turned to the Arbiter and said "Actually, I happened to be acquainted with that woman," before dashing into the fray.
"By the Gods…I'll never understand humans," muttered the Arbiter under his breath as he ignited his plasma sword and rushed to join the human warrior.
The several Brutes were short work for Albel and the Arbiter. Not only were they taken by surprise, they were up against two seasoned veterans, and they had also ditched most of their heavy gear in an attempt to keep up with Nel.
But Nel was in bad shape. She had plasma burns all over her body, and had bleeding wounds everywhere else. Slumped on the floor, she could barely move, let alone stand.
"Stay with me you goddamned maggot!" yelled Albel as he tried to pull her onto her feet.
"Leave me…go help the rest…" replied Nel weakly before passing out.
"Stupid worm I'm not leav-" Albel was cut off by a palm on his shoulder.
"I'll take her to a medical facility. You go help the rest of your comrades," suggested the Arbiter.
"Okay, I'll trust you. But if she loses a single hair I'll skin your goddamned maggot butt and roast it for lunch," threatened Albel, as he reluctantly passed the limp body of Nel over to the Arbiter.
Then, both warriors turned their backs on each other, each one rushing to a different location, but with the same objective: to save someone else's life.
By the time Albel reached the place where Nel had left the party, he expected them to be toast, but to his surprise, rather unpleasant surprise but to his surprise anyways, they were still alive and kicking. Squads of Brutes and Jackals had them totally surrounded and pinned down with firepower. They had only survived because of Maria.
Albel had seen this before. Using her powers of alteration, she had altered the carbon atoms in the air, in the form of carbon dioxide, into its solid form: diamond, creating an almost impenetrable wall of sheer strength. But all Albel had seen her do was manipulating a small amount of diamond. On such a large scale, and for such a long time, it was pretty much nothing short of a miracle they lasted this long.
But Albel knew all too well the weakness of this formation. Diamond is the hardest material in the universe, the only thing able to cut it being another diamond. However, the wall needed Maria to focus her energy in order for it to remain. Once Maria no longer had enough energy, or once her concentration was broken, the wall dissipated back into its original compounds.
Despite Maria's valiant efforts, the mammoth task of keeping the immense diamond wall up was too taxing on her, and she collapsed in exhaustion. Without the power of the alteration gene, the diamond wall quickly crumbled and the Covanent warriors prepared to take their kill.
"On my mark," signaled the commander, "Five, four, three, two, one…"
But the command for fire was never given. Reason being that Albel had lobbed his head off in one easy swipe. Then, slamming his steel claws into the wall, he challenged, "Who's next?"
Thankfully, Albel arrived in time. The rest of the party wouldn't have lasted very long against the squad of Brute troopers. Mirage even managed to salvage what seemed to be a Medical Box from the dead Brutes. After patching up the wounded, they were all set to go, the problem was where to go next?
"We're definitely gonna have to get out of this base, but I'm worried that the outside will be more dangerous that the inside," Mirage voiced her concerns.
"No point staying in here. We've not only got the Covanent on our maggot asses, we got some weird worms called the Flood as well," replied Albel. He went on to tell them about Cerberus, the Arbiter, and the other strange happenings he had encountered.
"I say we take a vote," announced Mirage, "Those in favor of staying here until this 'Arbiter' comes back for us?" only Roger raised his hand.
"Those for walking around?" Albel, Mirage and Maria raised their hands.
"So it's four to one, eh? We'll leave then-" Maria was cut off the sudden realization that there were only four of them. The votes didn't tally; she counted five hands in total.
"Hello chumps!" a high-pitched squawky voice greeted. Albel recognized the voice. He immediately flicked out the Gunblade and emptied a clip in that direction, only to see that his target had comically dodged all the bullets.
"Who are you?" demanded Maria, only to see Albel reload another clip and let loose a second volley.
"My name is Jester milady," he introduced again, bowing low whilst still avoiding the hail of death from Albel's Gunblade, "If you were so kind would you please tell that barbarian who hangs around you to give me a little break?"
"Albel, stop," ordered Maria. It was done, but grudgingly.
"As I said, I can offer my services as a guide to you around this location, but in return, I need something from you," said Jester, "I need you to go down to this structure called the Library and obtain an artifact for me."
"Doesn't look like we have much of a choice do we? In which direction lies the Library?" asked Maria, accepting the offer out of pure necessity.
"It lies in the green sector, at the core of this installation. Just follow the path ahead of you and I shall re-appear to guide you when the time comes," replied Jester, his voice raised, happy that his offer was accepted, "Now if you would proceed this way."
Jester put a hand around Maria's shoulder, causing her to give a face of disgust. Taking the initiative, Albel shoved Jester away and brandished the Gunblade yet again.
"Break's over maggot, move along," he muttered cockily as he emptied another clip into the clown.
With Jester's help, the party easily navigated the twisting, winding ways deep underground into the planet. However it was not always smooth sailing. Many a time they ran into ambushes from Brutes, Jackals and Flood minions alike. Yet time after time, Jester always appeared and either showed them a secret level to shut a door, a secret weapons cache, or simply showed them the quickest way to outrun their pursuers. Over time, the party relaxed, confident that Jester was on their side.
The whole party, except Albel.
"I tell you, that worm's up to something. I seen it millions of times. He's bringing us to ambushes in order to wear us down so he can kill us, or he's gonna get that thingy he wants and then kill us," complained Albel.
"The thing is, if he wanted to harm us he would have done so already," replied Maria.
As the party forged ahead, a strange structure appeared in from of them, a looming ominous tower with an aura of evil around it. Jester's voice echoed throughout the corridor, "We're heeeeeere! Now I brought you as a guide to remember your end of the deal!"
The doors to the Library then opened, and the party proceeded in, only to be greeted by a hail of bullets.
"Take cover!" yelled Maria as she dove to hide behind a piece of rubble.
"I told you worms that clown was up to no good," muttered Albel as he cocked his Gunblade, preparing to return fire.
Then, a voice called out from the direction of the fire, "Hell! You guys aren't Covenant or Flood, you're humans! What brings you to this desolate place?"
The party then slowly emerged from hiding, to see their assailants were humans. Their battered and overused rifles weren't pointing directly at the party, but the soldiers behind the makeshift ramparts still regarded the newcomers with hostility and suspicion in their eyes.
Maria then walked up to the leader of the rag-tag group of soldiers, she recognized the rankings were similar to that of the Pangalactic federation, and was quick to figure out who was boss and who was just an ordinary grunt.
"Who are you guys?" asked Maria.
"The name's Keyes. That's Commander Keyes. I had my ship scuttled somewhere on orbit of this rock, we're all that's left," introduced Keyes.
"I am Maria Traydor. We're civilians who…shared the same fate as you. Our ship got shot down," lied Maria, trying to give a convincing explanation.
"Civilians eh? You guys sure got a lot of guts to come down here by yourselves. This is less than ten percent of my original force. I can't exactly believe civilians actually made it this far," replied Keyes, obviously buying her story and signaled to her men to stand down.
The party felt more at ease now. The marines had recognized that they were not only a threat, but might be a valuable asset as well. If they had done what they claimed, and had come all the way down, surviving numerous Brute attacks, surely they could shoot a decent shot. Even if they couldn't, there'd be someone else for the Brutes to shoot at now.
"So commander," asked Maria, interested in knowing the current affairs of this new universe, "What exactly is going on?"
"We're under attack from an unknown alien race called the Flood," Maria winced at the name, "So far we're able to hold out, but unless reinforcements arrive, we're sitting ducks."
"What exactly do these Flood you speak of look like?" asked Maria.
Her question was answered immediately. The chamber shook violently and the doors to the library slowly opened, revealing hundreds of Flood minions. They were in for a big fight.
"Damn it!" Keyes leapt down from the ledge she was perched and raced for her rifle. The other marines were doing the same.
"Johnson! Abernathy!" she yelled as she reached the central area of their ramparts, hoping that her voice would be able to be heard of the noise of the advancing Flood, "Get machineguns up and ready! Give us some cover fire!"
Whether the two sergeants heard her or simply anticipated the command, they turned and grabbed the heavy machineguns lying in a crate, then, upon setting up the simple firing tripod, released a barrage of ammo into the oncoming horde. Other marines hoisted weapons as well, and soon the library was filled with glittering shards and stank of the acrid odor of gunpowder.
Then, Keyes heard a strange noise over the sound of gunfire, a keening moan, and risked a glance to the chamber's other end. She saw Maria blasting any Flood that got too close with a shotgun, neatly aligning it to a target, and putting the heavy slug into its chest. She also saw Mirage, the blonde wielding two sub-machineguns with expert skill and precision, sending many of the vile creatures to their deaths.
And then she saw Albel.
The warrior had leapt down from the rampart and was fighting his way across the chamber. Darkness rose behind him like a cloak, a curve of cold shadow that the Flood could not pierce, but his glistening Gunblade flared from his hand, searing through a Flood minion with a mere flick. Keyes saw the warrior turn and jerk his right arm in the direction of another approaching minion. The darkness around him re-formed from a defensive cloak, to a wall of jet-black blades, crackling with energy as they lashed out. The gleaming tip of one struck the minion just below the head and lanced clean through, causing a small spark to appear within the creature's mouth. The spark exploded, causing the creature to fall headless onto the flood. Albel then retracted this shadow swords back into their defensive cloak form and used it once again to ram into a minion which had come foolishly into range, before gutting it with his Gunblade.
It was the most amazing display of power Keyes had ever seen. She had watched the Arbiter and his fellow Elites fight before, and the Elites had always impressed her with their grace, speed and accuracy. But now there was something new. Now only was Albel as fast and strong as the Elites, he also had strange gifts of his own, and a deadly weapon and combat style to complement it.
Within minutes, the Flood had gone from conquering invaders to desperate defenders, with the remaining members of the horde struggling to get within the range of a marine. Then, they finally gave up their struggle, and collapsed in defeat. A huge cry was let out by the marines, this being the first time they had won by such a large margin.
Ecstatic, the marines crowded around Albel, hailing him as a savior and singing praises.
"Where'd you learn all that?" asked Keyes, she too amazed by the power of an ordinary civilian.
"Terran Confederacy Mercenary Corps," replied Albel, thinking of a sophisticated name to give without causing the marines to wrack their brains too much.
The Flood were no pushovers however. They just kept coming and coming, each wave with increasing intensity and numerical strength. Yet the band of strange civilians had proved to be more than just cannon fodder to the marines. They were warriors through and through, having the skills and wit of war veterans. There was the rumor going around that they might even have been involved in the war between the UNSC and the Communist separatists of Mars.
During a breather after one assault, Albel felt the sudden urge to explore the rest of the library, especially the far corner shrouded in shadow. It was as if an unknown voice was calling to him, beckoning him to come forth and discover what secrets it held. Upon reaching the far end, all he saw was rubble, ruined furniture and other random bits of stone, metal and other unrecognizable pieces of material. Disappointed, he was about to turn back when he felt something move being him.
Spinning around, he saw a strange lighted pedestal, barely visible under a pile of rocks. He had seen this before, somewhere, but where? So many events had happened in this day and even he was feeling the fatigue of countless battles hitting him.
Cupping his chin and thinking, he recalled his mother's advice: if you're in doubt, think of something you'll enjoy doing.
Yeah, sure, I really wanna skin that purple clown alive now…Wait…clown? That's it!
Drawing his Gunblade, he struck the pedestal hard, causing the crash to be heard through out the chamber. Then, a doorway opened to a secret room. He had to see this. As he walked in, he heard the sounds of gunfire; the Flood were back. But Maria could take care of them. He had other things to do.
Striding into the secret chamber, Albel head the heavy door slam shut behind his back. For him, this was the point of no return. Looking ahead into the centre of the room, there he was, the guy who had gotten them all into this mess in the first place.
"Jester," he regarded his foe.
"Bravo Albel, bravo. I never dreamed things would work out so well. Well done, well done," cheered Jester.
"I don't understand. Your minions are being slaughtered as we speak. Our reinforcements are arriving soon, what's there to cheer about?" queried Albel, cautious for a trick.
"Who said they were my minions silly? I was after," he picked up a small crystal, radiating red light all over, "This! Ha ha! You think I control the Flood? You're wrong boy. The Flood are attracted to their creators, the Forerunners. Anything in nature that mimics the energies of the Forerunner is like a magnet to them. This is no exception. With this, I shall finally be able to control the flood, and wipe out life completely!"
With his final word, his face contorted in agony as his body changed. Shell-like spots shifted across his limbs and torso, creating a moving layer of protections. His hair, once concealed in the jester hat sprouted out of it, reaching for the roof, yearning upwards. Then, two appendages forced their way out of his back, they were wings, rising to their full extent, they flared out behind him. He raised his right hand, fingers spread wide, and blades sprouted out of his fingertips in response, so did the spikes on his head and the wings on his back.
"Let's begin," called out Jester, as he lunged at Albel, both wings lancing across above his shoulders, determined to spear him and tear him apart. Albel's cloak of darkness blunted the blow but could not stop it entirely, the glow around Jester's body piercing it, as the latter's claws hoped to pierce his flesh, and he was shoved against the wall. As he parried a blow from Jester's right hand, the left clipped him on the shoulder, leaving scratches there, and his brow furrowed in pain. But he did not fall or falter.
Jester speared again, claws and wings both, all aimed for the warrior's chest. But his charge was stopped short by someone's heavy boots on his back, smashing him into the ground.
"Now Jester," the Arbiter announced, "You shall face us both."
Jester straightened and began to reply. But before he could speak Albel's feet struck him with full force, sending him sprawling. He stumbled himself, but caught himself with one arm and stayed upright.
Now all the pieces were in place. Albel, Jester and the Arbiter forming a rough triangle, circling each other, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
It was the Arbiter who reacted first. His Plasma sword flared into existence even as he dropped to one knee, fists plunging toward Jester's head and neck. Jester's wing spikes arched up, however, catching the Elite's wrists and turning his attack.
Albel was right behind, his Gunblade aimed not at the clown's head, but his wings. These blows connected, and Jester screamed as the glistening blade cut into his appendages, ichor seeping from the wounds. Then, he rested the barrel of his Gunblade against Jester's head, and pulled the trigger. And just as he did, Jester raised himself to a crouch and pivoted, one leg sliding out to trip him. Despite his best efforts, the shot flew hopelessly wide.
"Damn it!" muttered Albel as he let loose a volley of curses.
Then, he returned to the fray, his Gunblade and the Arbiter's Plasma sword against Jester's wings and claws. The two warriors moved together perfectly, each motion complementing the other, their attacks in perfect harmony, a strange mix of shadow and light. It was a devastating charge and few creatures in nature could survive it.
Unfortunately, Jester was one of them.
His wings acted of their own accord, it seemed, parrying and attacking without his conscious control, so that he always fought with an ally at his back. Their strikes blocked strikes and stabbed back in return, scoring both enemies several times, and his claws were just as fast, leaving dents in their armor and furrows in their skin. The yellow glow around him intensified, weakening Albel's cloak of shadows, and blocking the Arbiter's plasma bolts. He moved with the grace and danger of a panther, lithe, lovely and deadly.
Albel drove his blade towards Jester's heart and he caught his wrist between his wings, stopping the attack inches form his heart, and trapping his hand. He then spun around, hand rising to ensnare Albel's wrist, wings flaring to hurl the Arbiter back towards a wall with such force he fell to his knees. Albel tried to raise a shadow to protect himself, but Jester tore it away with one glowing wing, and then he slowly, deliberately pierced his side with the other, until the pain made him wince and the shadows fled.
"At first I thought I should kill you slowly, but I think not. You are too dangerous to risk," he smiled and twisted the wing within the helpless warrior, the pain so intense he would have fallen if Jester wasn't holding him up, "Farewell little human."
Jester reared his other wing up; spikes angled to strike his head and rip it to shreds. So overconfident was he, that he retracted the glow on his wings. Once again the light in the room faded slightly and the shadows reappeared. Albel used this to his advantage. Forcing out whatever strength which was left in him, he materialized his shadow blades again, and used them to strike Jester just before the clown's wing pierced his flesh.
Roaring in agony, Jester reeled backwards, releasing Albel from his grip. Trying to gain his footing, he turned around to see the Arbiter's fuel-rod gun leveled at his chest.
"It's time for the clown to bow out, Jester."
The Arbiter was injured badly, but not as bad a state as Albel. The human was bleeding profusely from many open, gaping wounds, the biggest on his side where Jester's wing had entered. It sent jolts of pain into his body with every step, and crimson blood gushed out with every movement.
Struggling, the Elite managed to help the human out of the secret chamber, only to be thrown into another battle. The Flood had arrived in such a huge number that even with the party's help, the human defenders were gradually losing ground. As much as he wanted to jump into the fray and wipe out a dozen, his own injuries, and the injuries of this human warrior would not help the defenders out very much.
Yet he wasn't very worried. Humans had proved themselves time and time again to be full of surprises. The redhead he helped earlier not only survived a pack of Brutes, she also managed to survive injuries which would have killed a human, according to the Covanent data files. Likewise, this warrior should be able to make it.
The problem lay with the Flood.
Depositing Albel in a safe place, he whipped out his plasma rifle and was about to join in the fray, when a huge blinding light flooded into the Library. Squinting his eyes, he saw the immense horde of Flood minions being eradicated. Flood flesh became atoms, and the atoms lingered in the air for a millisecond before they split into molecules, and the molecules disappeared into nothingness.
Behind it all, the culprit stood with an outstretched arm. A blue-haired teenager clad in black clothes that were adorned with a number of symbols in various colours, and with an armada of swords strapped to his back. With a cocky grin, Fayt Leingod smirked at the awed human defenders.
"Missed me?"
A/N: It's finally done! Yay! Okay, now go ahead, press that review button! I know you want to. Press it...press it...