Authors Notes = A/N
"Normal Speech."
'Thoughts."
"Foreign Language."
{Sacred Gears/Weapon spirits speech.}
[Sacred Gear/ Weapon spirits thoughts. ]
A/N:
Okay, so not much for me to say with this chapter, other than I've written this as my last posting before I disappear until the 18th June. It's a long period of time I know, but my exams are the most important thing to me right now, so you'll have to forgive the fact that this was written during odd half-hours and what not, which is why it's slightly shorter than my average chapter.
But it still marks the beginning of my dual arc.
So read on.
And get ready for one hell of a ride.
(P.S: The chemicals I named in this Chapter are all fictitious. I just picked/created them because they sounded cool, so don't any chemists try and have a go about it!)
(Last time in: The Jackal of the Grigori).
"What do you want Thomas?"
(….)
"What do you mean it's still in play?"
(….)
"Did you manage to intercept them?"
(….)
"Shit. Who did you manage to get?"
(…...)
"I see."
(….)
"I want you to keep that little piece of shit right where he is. I can be with you in about an hour.
And let me make this clear to you Muller.
If you fuck up in any way, I'll rip your fucking guts out and use them to strangle your wife whilst you watch you little bitch."
Throughout the entire conversation, Pierr's demeanour had swiftly deteriorated, from annoyed to shocked and then angry, before finally settling on showing the young Frenchman as being completely apoplectic with rage. With several deep breaths, the young man managed to reign in his emotions enough to turn to Rias and her parents, who (like most of the assembled group) were shocked at his swift change in demeanour.
"Excuse me Miss Gremory, but one of my acquaintances has picked up on something very important and I'm afraid I need to head out immediately." Rias nodded shakily at his ice-cold voice, and before anyone could say anything, Pierr had clicked his fingers and was bathed in a small blast of dark blue magical energy. The moment said energy faded, it revealed a drastically changed Thierry, who was now clad in the same gear that he had worn when he had trained the Gremory Group for their match against Riser; with the only noteworthy difference being that his face was now covered in black camo-paint along with his neck, obscuring his handsome face from view.
Bowing his head to Sona, he quickly explained that he may be absent for the next few days of school, and asked for the girl to cover him. The heiress to the Sitiri family nodded calmly and wished him luck, which caused the young man to head for the nearest balcony so that he could privately use the reverse teleportation seal he had been given to return to the human world. But before he could leave, Yumi found herself calling after the mysterious and brilliant Frenchman.
"Pierr-kun!"
Turning around, the young man met Yumi's gorgeous grey orbs with his own shaded eyes. Taking a deep breath, Yumi forced a smile onto her face as she said only one thing to the young man.
"Please be careful."
Averting his gaze, the young man quickly spun on his heels and continued on his way, but not before whispering a reply back to Yumi so faintly that she almost thought she'd imagined his words.
"I'm sorry….."
"But I can't make a promise I know I may not be able to keep."
WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS REFERENCES TO TORTURE & MILD TORTURE SCENES
Chapter Six: Acid Air
(Undisclosed Grigori Black-Ops Site, West Germany)
Thierry let out a growl of frustration as the heart-monitor to his right flat-lined for the third time in several hours. Said machine looked as if it had seen better days, given the thick layer of grime and dirt that was plastered on its metal casing, whilst the screen was splattered with blood in several areas; some black and crusted, the rest as fresh as that which flowed in Thierry's veins. Turning his gaze from the disgusting piece of machinery, Thierry immediately set his eyes on the last, unused syringe on the table behind him.
Said syringe was filled with the Supernatural worlds equivalent of adrenaline on steroids; Alstarnine. It was an incredibly rare (and stupidly expensive) synthetic compound that forcibly restarted a person's bodily and guaranteed life for at least another fifteen minutes, providing the target didn't suffer any further trauma. It was used in place of Adrenaline as was far more potent and effective, especially in members of the supernatural. This was not to say that said people did not have adrenaline, but rather the concentration that would be required is simply unfeasible for syringe use; hence the required use of Alstarnine.
Grabbing the syringe, Thierry ripped the sterile cover off of the needle and turned to face the figure that was slumped in a metal chair in the centre of the room. The man was completely stripped naked, revealing his fairly well toned body to the rooms only other occupant. His body was littered with cuts and bruises; his rib-cage in particular in several places was a horrific shade of either black or purple. His right arm had clearly been broken and then forcibly placed into an uncomfortable angle that would only serve to enhance the pain of the injury, whilst the odd angles of his legs clearly indicated that they too, along with his fingers and toes and been brutally broken earlier on. Long black hair shaded the man's face from view, but if the steady flow of blood dripping from the area was any indication, that also was not in the best of shape.
Stepping back to his 'guest', Thierry drove the syringe in his grip straight into the man's chest, exactly where his heart was. Pressing firmly down on the syringes top, Thierry emptied the medical tools entire load in less than two seconds; a remarkable achievement considering the viscous nature of the solution within. Stepping back, Thierry allowed his mind to wonder for the first time in hours as the supernatural drug began to restart the man's heart.
'I bloody hate this part of the job.' He thought to himself bitterly as the heart-monitor suddenly burst into life and the man took his first shuddering breath. After several years in the Zencasian military, Thierry had been transferred from his original unit to a detachment known only as The Reapers. Needless to say, the jobs that he had been forced to carry out as a member of the legendary Zencasian unit still haunted him to this day…. much like the brutal yet extremely efficient methods of torture he had used on his latest target.
'Oh come off it, you know you enjoy it.' A dark part of Thierry's mind voiced sadistically, causing the young man to tighten his hands into fists whilst his subject continued his recovery. He really wanted to outright deny what that part of his mind had told him; that he hated what he had done and he wished he could go and be sick. But the unfortunate truth was that it was absolutely right.
He wasn't proud of the fact; but he loved to cause pain to others, just like he loved to fight and kill his opponents as brutally as possible. It wasn't natural in any way, but it was the truth.
'You seem to forget that we were conditioned to feel this way.'
'Yeah, but you've also done nothin' about it!'
Thierry gritted his teeth in annoyance, and was about to continue his internal monologue, an all too familiar voice broke through into Thierry's mind. It was one that he knew all too well; a presence that he rarely felt, but welcomed openly whenever it appeared in his fractured and hellish mind.
'I would focus on your enemy for now, partner. He seems to finally be waking up.'
Shaking his head, Thierry went to speak to the voice, but before he could even contemplate asking as to the voices whereabouts for the past several months, a faint groaning caught his attention. So it was with a bitter growl of frustration that Thierry pulled his attention away from the voice and instead focused it on the now barely awake figure in the chair. Taking a quick calming breath, Thierry cleared his conscious of all curiosity and sank back into the cruel persona that had served him so well during his time as a member of Zencasia's elite.
"Did you honestly think that this time you'd get lucky and die?" He asked pleasantly, earning a whimper from his target. Keeping the calm and friendly persona up, Thierry reached for his belt and pulled out an extendable baton that Azazel had made for Thierry some time ago from his hip. With a well-practiced ease that he flipped the baton to its full length before smacking it into the knee of his target.
"AGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!"
The man screamed horrifically as his already broken leg was further damaged by Thierry's callous treatment. Said assassin merely grinned viciously and felt his heart beat slightly faster at the sight of his targets agony.
'Keep control. We still need a name and country.'
"Yaksly, this is only going to get harder for you. Just tell me what I want to know, and I'll at least make your death quick." Thierry supplied cheerily to the now identified Yaksly as he finally stopped screaming, earning a pained look from the tortured man. He sat there for a while, his breathing heavy as he kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, as if weighing up the offer that had been put on the table for him. Eventually, after what seemed like an age, Yaksly finally managed to find the strength to speak to his demented captor.
"Russia….they….they took the AA-35 to Russia." He murmured gently as a faint trail of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. Thierry nodded sagely, before gesturing with his other arm for the broken Fallen Angel to keep on speaking. The man hesitated for a moment, but when he caught sight of Thierry reaching for the baton at his belt again, he divulged the last piece of information to the world's greatest assassin.
"Look... look for Surkov. Sergei Surkov. He's the one that we moved the shipment on to."
Thierry nodded again before summoning his Browning Hi-power pistol into his grip. He levelled the barrel of the gun with the pathetic form of Yaksly before thinking of one last question.
"AA-35, what does it stand for?"
"Antrolsylamine Anthalcynaide -35. I…I think the number has something to do with the previous number of attempts at creating the stuff….. but most of us just call it Acid Air." Yaksly responded, before Thierry nodded in satisfaction.
The walls seemed to shake ever so slightly as Thierry's weapon was discharged, sending a large cloud of red mist and brain-matter flying out of the back of Yaksly's head. Holstering his weapon with a sigh, Thierry turned on his heel and opened the door some five meters behind him. He was greeted by the sight of a young looking man, perhaps no older than five or six years older than himself. He was average looking and had medium-brown hair that fell to his shoulders and wore a decent looking suit that probably cost around the same as most of Thierry's bog-standard clothes.
Thomas Muller was Thierry's best contact in Germany. He was a German were-wolf who he had saved from a tight situation with some idiots from the church a few years ago. Ever since then, whenever the Grigori or Thierry had need of the man's services, he was only too happy to help them; especially when it directly benefited himself or his wife.
Stepping forward, the young German licked his lips before speaking.
"So, I take it that he has been disposed of?" He asked in his native tongue, earning a nod from Thierry who decided to courteously respond in the man's first language.
"Yes. Take care of the body; I need to speak to Azazel about all of this."
"Why, is something bad about to happen?"
Thierry paused as he reached the door that would lead him out into the mild German night, his eyes fixed to the floor as he responded to the words of his contact.
"Beyond your imagining."
(Outside, with Thierry)
"Azazel we have got a serious problem." Thierry stated as calmly as he possibly could into his mobile phone. His mind had only just finished processing that the very chemical weapon he had thought he'd destroyed in New York several months ago was still in existence. Obliviously the containers had been either far more magically reinforced than he had thought, or his explosion was not very powerful; and given the damage that the latter option had caused, Thierry had come to the former as the most logical conclusion.
Azazel let out a soft 'hmmmmm' down the line before he replied in an unusually serious voice, indicating that he knew that now was not a time for jokes.
"What is it Thierry? I'm in an important meeting right now."
"Do you remember the biological weapon you had me destroy in New York at the start of the year?"
"Of course, I still can't figure the bloody thing out. What's your point?"
"Some of it's still active."
The silence that filled the line was absolutely deafening. Thierry couldn't even make out the Governor's breathing as he awaited the apoplectic reply that was sure to follow that piece of news. No leader took the failure of their subordinates well, especially when it came to such large and important missions, and given the way in which Azazel was yet to respond… well let's just say a few uncomfortable memories were flowing through Thierry's head as he awaited the response of his boss.
'What do you mean you failed?'
'It….it wasn't my fault sir! There were too many of them!'
'And that excuses your failure?'
'Well…..'
'In case you haven't noticed kid, we're at war. And in war there is no room for any sort of failure; especially amongst the common soldiers. Soldiers are supposed to complete their mission no matter the cost; it's what they're bred for…. And in Zencasia, we don't allow defective equipment to serve amongst the good stock.'
'No! Noooo! Please I wo-'
BANG! / "THIERRY!"
Thierry shook his head violently as the memory faded from his mind like a summer's breeze, and the concerned voice of the Viceroy brought the greatest living assassin out of his musings. Raising his mobile to his ear, Thierry licked his dry lips before responding in his usually quiet and flat voice.
"What?"
Azazel let out a sigh of frustration before responding to his greatest weapon's question.
"Use the reverse summoning glyph I gave you. We need to discuss this in person; right now."
Nodding slightly, Thierry moved his left hand over the front left trouser pocket that was there and released a miniscule pulse of magic. The moment he did, the trademark smoke that accompanied the removal of an item from a pocket dimension cleared, revealing the glyph that Azazel had given him for such occasions. Double checking his person, Thierry quickly made certain that all of his gear was either with him or locked up in a pocket dimension before pouring an average amount of magical power into the glyph.
Immediately, the array on the paper began to glow. It started off dim and pathetic, but within a few seconds, the light was so bright that it forced Thierry to close his eyes and cover them with his right arm, lest he be blinded by the light of the glyph. The moment his eyes closed, Thierry felt his entire body lurch and his stomach churn as the glyph worked its (no pun intended) magic and pulled Thierry to wherever Azazel was at that moment in time.
After several moments, the light stopped breaking through the blackness of Thierry's vision, and as such he found it safe enough to open his eyes. The moment he did so, the young assassin was greeted by the sight of his commander-in-chief, Azazel, standing in front of him with a rather serious expression. The man was clad in his more formal long jacket and suit trousers, all in various shades of purple or black, and held a bag in his left hand.
"Azazel." He intoned neutrally, earning a nod from the aforementioned Fallen Angel. However, before he could even consider replying, or Thierry offer up a question as to their whereabouts, a second voice broke through the night-time air.
"Pierr-kun, what are you doing here?"
The moment the words left the persons' mouth with their all-too-familiar tone, Thierry had spun around on his heel and drawn the katana that was sat on his right hip, revealing the ominous crimson blade to the world. Sirzech Lucifer could only audibly gulp as the fearsome weapon rested against his throat, drawing shocked gasps from the other people present, save for the Governor General of the Fallen Angels, who let out a sigh of exasperation.
"Take another step, Devil, and I'll take your fucking head." Thierry growled, earning a wide eyed look from Sirzech as he caught Grayfia narrowing her eyes and backing up slightly after attempting to come to her husband's aid. Thierry kept his weapon on the current Lucifer's throat steadily and refused to blink, but before he could even contemplate removing the Devil's head, a strong grip made itself known on his right shoulder.
"Drop the blade Thierry. We have more important things to deal with than racial hatred." He stated sternly, earning a look of loathing from Thierry; who could not fathom as to why the Viceroy would not order him to take the opportunity with both hands. However, despite his prayers that the man was pulling a sick joke, Thierry found himself lowering his blade with a clear snarl of anger and frustration.
"I could have ruined our enemies power Azazel, care to explain why the fuck you didn't let me?"
"Because we are here to make peace, my friend." A distinctly masculine yet melodious voice called out, causing Thierry to jerk his head in the direction of the owners voice. Said person was arguably one of the most magnificent beings he had ever seen.
The individual in question was roughly as tall as Thierry at about six foot two, and was clad in a pristine white robe that hid his body from view. Across his broad shoulders rested to pauldrons of silver and gold that looked more like the wings of Angels than any mere mortal bird; the front of his robe was marked by a glorious red and golden tunic piece that had been fitted across the top, and it clearly displayed the cross of Christ. The mans' features were absolutely breath-taking; flawless skin, a soft yet defined jawline and warm green eyes that seemed deeper than any ocean gave him an ethereal beauty that no-one could hope to match.
From the moment he had heard his voice Thierry had known, but after taking in the mans' appearance and the halo above his head, Thierry now knew without a doubt that this was Michael; the first Seraph and the single strongest Angel in Heaven…..whilst the woman beside him was also someone Thierry could place merely at sight.
'The strongest Woman in Heaven' Gabriel was truly beyond all mortal words of description; porcelain-like skin, angelic features and a down-right sinful body that was clad in a tight-fitting robe, which served to only highlight her generous bust and perfectly shaped hips. Had she been any other woman, Thierry would have freely admitted that she was the single-most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
But alas…..
'She's just an Angel.'
Taking a calming breath, Thierry finally re-sheathed his sword, but not before placing his right hand over the firing mechanism that was built into the sheath. Casting a glance back at his employer, Thierry fixed the strongest of the Fallen Angels with a withering glare for several moments before speaking.
"Care to explain why you summoned me to discuss a Grigori matter in-front of our enemies, Azazel?" He asked venomously, earning shocked looks from those surrounding him, bar Azazel, who let out a small sigh before replying to his surrogate son.
"This isn't just a Grigori problem anymore." He replied neutrally, earning a small frown of confusion from Thierry. However, the tone of the Viceroy's voice and the way in which he placed emphasis on the concept of 'anymore' soon lead Thierry to a sudden, and blood-boiling conclusion.
"That bastard Kokabiel's made his move, hasn't he?"
"Indeed he has. Less than four hours ago, the Vatican and the Easter Orthodox Christian Church were attacked by unknown assailants, who stole three of the seven Excalibur pieces. The guard details were completely decimated, and given their strength, only someone of great power, or enough power to make dangerous individuals work for them, could have pulled this heist off." Michael intoned seriously, earning a nod of approval from his sister, who gestures for Serafall to continue.
"Merely two hours after the attack, Kokabiel left the Grigori Headquarters, if Azazel's information is one hundred percent accurate, and headed for Kuoh town."
"Currently, we believe he plans to use the swords of our Father to slay the two heiress in Kuoh, and thus re-trigger the Great War. And given the influx of troops that Kokabiel commands into the City, it's obvious that he plans to strike soon." Gabriel finished calmly in a melodious voice, earning a small nod from Thierry as he ran the information back through his mind several times. After several moments of processing the information, Thierry turned to Azazel.
"Azazel, I'd like to request permission to return to Kuoh so I can rip that bastards wings off myself." Thierry said neutrally, earning raised eyebrows from those present. Said leader merely shook his head in the negative, before adding on afterwards.
"I need you on the trail of that AA-35. You're the best man for the job in the entire world at the moment, because if anyone can stop a war re-starting, it is you." Azazel replied neutrally to Thierry's request, causing the young man to turn away and snarl in frustration.
Kokabiel had taken virtually everything from Thierry when he was a child….
He caused the war in his home country.
He stole his childhood from him.
He stole his friends and innocence from him.
And he needed to pay for what he had done.
So it was only fair that Thierry ended his life.
'An eye for an eye.'
Eventually though, Thierry began to see the logic in Azazel's words; he was the only person in the world with enough power and skill to chase the shipment quickly enough to stop it from being used. It frustrated him to no end, but ultimately Thierry was a soldier trying to stop the onset of another Great-War; and if that meant swallowing his pride and potentially missing out on the chance to butcher Kokabiel like a dog, then he would do it.
That didn't mean he liked it though.
"Fine, but I can't do this alone; I'm going to need some help." Thierry stated calmly, drawing a nod out of Azazel who went to respond to his legendary subordinate, but before he could, he was cut off by the official 'ditz of Heaven'.
"If you require assistance, I am sure that we or the Devils will be able to provide you with aid." She stated in a friendly tone of voice, whilst her words caused Sirzech and Serafall to nod their heads in verification of the buxom blonds statement. However, Thierry noticed that the way she spoke was clearly a means of trying to get him to calm down and at least co-operate with the other two factions on something so important. Yet despite this, Thierry also knew that he needed help if he wanted to accomplish this mission, if only so that he wouldn't have to get bogged down fighting low-level opponents on his way to important objectives.
'Trouble is that with my absence, Vali's probably been deployed to Kuoh in-case Kokabiel makes a play whilst Azazel 'aint there. So I'm going to need someone else who I can trust to watch my back…..and as it stands there's only one person on that list who isn't busy or dead.' Thierry mused to himself. But much like whenever his thoughts strayed into such territory, another part of his mind argued against his cold logic.
'There's no-way you can even think of putting her into that kind of danger! This could potentially be a suicide mission!'
'I've been training her for the past few weeks to fight, NOT to fucking sit around in my place and look after it.'
'If you care for her you wouldn't put her in danger.'
'I care for her: the fact that I'm willing to let her fight again shows that she has my faith. And nothing is going to change that fact, or my decision.' Thierry finished with an air of finality, causing the rebellious portion of his mind to slink away in defeat. The moment his mind was in order, Thierry turned to face the pleasantly smiling Gabriel, who clearly hoped that he would accept her offer of assistance.
Unfortunately for the Lady Gabriel, Thierry still had no intention of ever working with a Devil or someone affiliated with Heaven.
"Your people will only slow me down: I already have someone in mind. Excuse me for a moment whilst I make a call." With that Thierry turned his back on the 'Strongest Woman in Heaven', along with four other rather shocked leader-class beings. Pulling out his mobile, Thierry swiftly navigated to his contacts and put in a call to his home residence in Kuoh academy. Within moments of the phone ringing, Thierry heard the line being picked up and slightly heavy breathing down the other end of the line as the person struggled to speak between breaths.
"Thierry is that you?" Raynare asked breathlessly, earning a small smile from Thierry as he imagined the sprint that the buxom Fallen must have put in to reach the phone that quickly. But just as quickly as his smile had appeared, it vanished in favour of Thierry's normally stoic visage.
"It's me Raynare. I need you to get my gear out of storage and then to use the glyph I gave you ASAP."
"What's happened?"
Her response was steely and professional, but Thierry could also detect a genuine undercurrent of concern and worry permeating her voice. Letting out a small sigh, Thierry briefly massaged his temples with his free hand before answering the troubled young Fallen on the other end of the line.
"It's not something I can talk about over the phone. Just do as I've asked you… and make sure to grab the two supply boxes next to my main bag. I have a horrible feeling that we're going to need it." He replied tersely, eliciting an affirmative from Raynare who subsequently dropped her end of the line in favour of completing the task that the Strongest Human had given her.
Locking his phone and sealing it away, Thierry took out his glyph and placed it on the floor before walking away from it and leaning against a nearby wall. A tense silence soon followed, with most of the people present keeping their gazes fixed firmly on the young human in their midst. Normally such looks would have Thierry annoyed or anxious, but with Azazel present and Raynare soon to arrive, Thierry felt a lot more comfortable than he had at the celebrations two days ago.
'Well, at least Yumi was kind enough to alleviate my fears.' Thierry thought to himself with a mental chuckle as his mind strayed back to the gorgeous blond.
Thierry would be absolutely lying through his teeth if he said he didn't find Yumi Kiba to be beautiful: she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, much like Akeno. But unlike the Fallen Angel hybrid, Yumi also seemed to find Thierry attractive enough to at least warrant some sort of physical lust… and although most of the time when Thierry was dealing with such matters it was a one-way street, he'd again be a liar if he said he didn't feel some sort of attraction to the blond. Nothing that strayed beyond lust and an appreciation of her physical form, but he was attracted none-the-less: and that was something he looked forward to immensely, if only for the prospect of getting laid again.
'Five months is way too long.'
Eventually, Thierry was brought out of his absent thought drifting by a bright flash of light that swiftly faded to reveal a serious looking Raynare. Gone were the hot-pants and stolen shirts, and in their place was an outfit that was not too dissimilar to Thierry's 'Jackal' garb. Black fire-proof trousers and jacket were covered by lighter looking body-armour, whilst her hair was tied up into a pony-tail and a lower face-mask rested comfortably around her neck like a mini scarf. Thierry had forced her to wear the gear after she had shown him the skimpy attire that she had originally worn when working with her friends; and all it took to convince her was Thierry showing her some of the burns and cuts that he had received in his time working for Azazel and the government back home.
Needless to say, she had made the switch to Thierry's more conservative outfit very quickly.
In the young woman's arms were two bags, whilst a third was placed on her back properly. Smiling to himself Thierry walked towards the young woman who had dropped the two bags in her arms before taking the third bag off of her shoulders and handing it to Thierry who nodded his head gratefully.
Immediately the 'Strongest Human' undid the zip on the duffle bag, revealing his normal clothing to the cool night-time air. Pulling out the parts, Thierry did a quick inventory to make sure everything was there before he began removing the gear he was already wearing. Upon reaching his undershirt, it appeared that Raynare had finally had enough of his silence, if the ever-growing tick-mark on her head was anything to go by…..
But Thierry ignored it…
And so the damn burst.
"Care to explain what the hell this is all about, you French git? Because if this is for some sort of training, I'll kick your ass. Strongest human in the Grigori or not." She stated testily, earning a small chuckle from Azazel, Sirzech and Serafall. But before any of them could say anything, Grayfia finally decided to speak up.
"We can assure you, Miss, that this is no training exercise."
Thierry wasn't exactly aware of what happened next, but what he did vaguely manage to discern was an understandable amount of shock and fear from Raynare before Azazel managed to calm her down. After that, she just stayed silent as the leaders of the Three Factions quickly explained the situation to her, or at least Thierry assumed that was what they were doing as he continued to slip into his gear.
Within the space of a minute and a half, Thierry had stripped himself of 'Pierr's tactical gear', and instead replaced it with the fearsome visage of 'The Jackal'. Gone was the combat vest and jack-booted combat-trousers, and in its place the nightmare black and grey armour and underclothing that had made Thierry so infamous and terrifying. He had just pulled his goggles on and was pulling on the face-mask of his outfit when he was finally directly addressed again.
"You picked me because you trust me?"
Turning his attention back to the group, Thierry found his goggle-hidden vison being met by the blazing violet orbs that were Raynare's eyes. After several seconds of silence, Thierry decided that honesty was the best policy.
"I'll entrust my life to you if you do the same for me, Raynare." He replied softly, earning a slightly shocked look from the girl. Eventually though she walked straight over to Thierry and hugged him tightly.
"There's no-one else I'd rather trust, Thierry." She whispered in his ear, earning a small smile from the teenage-assassin. Pushing her away gently, Thierry turned his attention to Azazel in order to speak to him and run through their typical pre-mission discussions.
"Azazel, what's my budget?
"Blank cheque Thierry."
"Capture/Kill orders?"
"None. These animals want to ruin our only chance at peace. No prisoners. No mercy."
"If I should finish before Kokabiel makes his move?"
"His head is yours."
That part caused Thierry to smile viciously; he'd been waiting for almost six years for a chance to bring that bastard down, and now he was finally going to get it. He'd grown up in the single most abusive environment on the face of the Earth; run by the most depraved government of the late 20th and early 21st Century. He remembered every single piece of abuse, every single threat at gun-point; how the government had turned him from a starving orphan who was barely getting by, to a battle crazed, blood-lusting killing machine.
Kokabiel had created the environment that had produced the monster that Thierry was, deep within his own ravaged and broken mind.
Now it was finally time for the 'The Butcher of Lecan' to shed his human skin once more…
And remind the world why they feared 'The Jackal'.
Walking over to the two bags that Raynare had dropped, the young Assassin quickly slung the bigger of the two over his shoulders before gesturing for Raynare to stand next to him, which she did almost immediately. Cracking his knuckles, Thierry sent a nod Azazel's way before calling upon his gargantuan magical reserves and his theory in order to generate the magical circle that would take he and Raynare to Russia.
Giving his boss one last look, Thierry sent the man a small, appreciative wave before his entire form was engulfed by the light of the white magic circle that had formed underneath him and Raynare. Eventually, after several moments, the light died down and left the leaders of the 'Three Great Factions' standing by their-selves again.
Seconds of silence soon stretched to minutes as an oppressive, almost palpable silence filled the meeting area. Not even Serafall or Gabriel, who were renowned for being unable to read tense situations, were willing to break the suffocating silence that had enveloped the six remaining beings. After what seemed like an age, the silence finally forced someone to crack…
And it was the most unsuspecting person there.
"Azazel-donno, Kokabiel is responsible for Thierry's early life, isn't he?" Grayfia asked quietly, earning raised eyebrows from the two representatives of Heaven and a small, sad nod of the head from Azazel.
"Yes he is Grayfia-san. That bastard brought hell-on-Earth into Thierry's life, and now it's going to bite him in the fucking arse….or more likely his throat." Azazel finished darkly, earning further confused looks from Gabriel and Michael, whilst Serafall and Sirzech's frames tensed.
"I always knew Kokabiel was a war-monger, but what he did to that country was fucking monstrous. Only the original Satan's and their children would have been sick enough to do something like that to an entire country…and even they would have probably drawn the line at child soldiers." Serafall spat angrily, whilst Sirzech merely snarled in agreement. However, two people present were still out-of-the-loop when it came to Thierry's past, and they both wanted in.
"Ano, what are you talking about, Mao-samma, Azazel-samma?" Gabriel asked politely, her head cocked to the side and her blond hair following her movements. Michael voiced his agreement, and as such the Viceroy of the Grigori answered his pure-winged brethren.
"Thierry is not a French national: he was born in Zencasia as an orphan, four years before the start of the civil war." The Leader of the Fallen watched as Gabriel hid her mouth behind her hand in an effort to stop her gasp from becoming too loud, whilst Michael merely frowned, whilst gesturing for his Fallen brother to continue. It seemed that the news of the civil war had even reached the mighty walls of Heaven. Taking a deep breath, Azazel continued in providing them with the information the desperately sought.
"Thierry was abducted off of the streets at the age of four and trained as a part of a government plan, called 'The Mulsas Project'. He was trained until he was aged six, at which point he was deployed to the battlefield as a child soldier…..as a squad leader. Eventually he was transferred to the 'Reaper' division. He told me about what he did in that god-forsaken division only once, and for the whole time he never stopped shaking and checking his surroundings.
I've seen thousands of soldiers with PTSD….but at least they could get a decent nights' sleep a lot of the time. Thierry is lucky if he gets five or six hours of sleep a week."
By this point no-body had dry eyes: Gabriel and Serafall were openly crying and Grayfia was faring little better, as were Michael and Sirzech…..with each of them thinking roughly the same thing.
'By god, how could he survive all of that! No child should ever have to fight and die: least of all for beliefs that are not their own.' Michael thought to himself darkly; he had kept a fairly close eye on the conflict as it had unfolded. He wished he could have done something to stop the violence, but there was simply no way for the Angels to get involved without drawing the ire of the rest of the Supernatural world.
'Father…..how could you make humans be so cruel?' Gabriel thought in-between her heart-wrenching sobs. In heaven, children were incredibly rare, given the nature of childbirth and sex within the Kingdom of Heaven. And as a consequence, these children were treated with absolute love and care by the entirety of Heaven… and as such, to think that a government had treated so many children so cruelly literally made the 'The most beautiful of all god's Angels' sick in disgust.
Sirzech, Grayfia and Serafall all thought similar things: Devil children were rare, especially of the pure-blood variety, and as such, they were treated like glass by the vast majority of grown Devils. It was most of the reason that Serafall and Sirzech dotted on their baby sisters so much: they were literally small, (unholy) miracles. Eventually, after a while, Grayfia managed to compose herself enough to speak.
"Then why is he still fighting?"
"What?" Azazel responded dumbly, earning a small snarl out of the normally calm and composed Queen and wife of Lucifer.
"That boy should never have to step foot onto another battlefield: he should've been given a family who loved him and cherished him. He should've been given the childhood that he never had in Zencasia…..
SO WHY IS HE STILL FIGHTING AZAZEL?"
She had started off quietly, but by the end of her speech, Grayfia was virtually screaming at the top of her lungs in rage. In fact, so out of control was the 'Silver-Haired Queen of Annihilation' that she had lost control of her magic to the point that the very ground she stood on was freezing over. Azazel took a step back and hung his head in shame whilst Sirzech swept his wife into a tight embrace until she finally regained her composure. After a while, Azazel managed to find enough resolves in his body to answer the horror-struck mother.
"Because he asked me not to." He whispered gently. Grayfia went to protest, but before she could she was cut off by the Viceroy of the Fallen.
"He told me that fighting was all he knew: that all he would ever know. He told me that he wasn't born to be a scientist or a teacher, that he wasn't meant to be a normal person. He told me that from his first day in service to the government, he'd realised that he was born to fight, born to kill.
It made me sick to hear a child say those words. But the more missions I sent him on and the more I sparred with him, the more I realised that he was right. He may have been an absolute genius with the potential to be anyone; but the call of the battlefield literally burns within his veins. Anything outside of fighting that he knows is something he's been taught….his skills in combat are all based around pure instinct.
You couldn't make a better soldier if you tried.
There's just something in him. I don't know if its genetics or if it's some sort of twisted cosmic joke, but Thierry is single-handedly the best natural warrior to have ever lived, and that ever will live." Azazel's words were uttered at little more than a whisper, but they reached every single person with the same intensity as if he had been shouting him. No-one had made a move to disagree, but eventually Gabriel found the courage to voice her thoughts.
"Azazel….I saw his soul when he first came here. If he were such a soldier, then it would be as black as the darkest of nights. Yet I found myself staring at a soul that was as pure as any Angels…..yet it was veiled by darkness, not tainted." She stated calmly, earning a small nod from her brother and Azazel.
"I agree, Gabriel-chan. His soul is as white as yours or Michael-kuns: but its veiled by the monstrous actions he's been forced to commit…and the monster he houses within his mind."
"What do you mean? Pi….Thierry has always seemed like a fairly normal person to me." Serafall intoned solemnly. Azazel merely shook his head before he continued with his explanation.
"Thierry may seem like a normal person to all of you: a man who has merely had bad things forced upon him. But the Zencasian government twisted parts of his mind: twisted it until they made a monster that he fights to keep locked away….but now…"
"Kokabiel has unleashed the 'Butcher of Lecan' upon himself….."
"And not even God himself would have been able to protect him from The Jackal when he hunts."
A/N:
And there we have it ladies and gentlemen.
Bitch of a cliff-hanger for me to leave the story on as I enter the Public-Exam season and my mini 36 day Hiatus from writing, but hey, I need to build the suspense and hype.
And what better way than with a cliff-hanger.
Now like I said above, this is my final update for 36 days as I work my balls of for my A-levels, so please be patient with me. These are the grades that determine whether or not I get into Uni, so I'm pretty committed to doing well in these :p , and less so to my writing.
But I will ensure that the first chapter back will be with you on the 18th June at 9:00 PM GMT, so put that date in your diaries, because It's gonna be one hell of a return….and certainly one you won't want to miss.
Any ways, I need to get back to complaining about the unfairness of exams and what not, but please do tell me what you thought of the chapter and just how excited you are for the upcoming events of this arc with a Review, and make sure that you don't miss out on my return by dropping a fave or a follow (perhaps both?).
Keep it real like a Ninja, folks.
Peace,
MetalGearMantis.
P.S: Oh, did I mention that there's a little sneak-peek at the bottom of the chapter?
No?
Well now you know!
P.P.S: Please excuse any Spelling Etc. errors, I have yet to check through this again, so they will probably be present for a while yet.
(SNEAK PEEK OF THE 'ACID AIR' AND 'EXCALIBUR' DUAL ARC.)
Thierry grit his teeth in frustration as he eyed up his opponent.
Tauriel was in an even worse condition than he was: he once gorgeous brown hair had become matted with blood, sweat and grime whilst her once gorgeous face had become an ugly mess of bruises and cuts. Her body was littered with large-scale, ugly burns and gashes that were steadily pouring with blood. She literally looked like she was on her last legs, and that was something that Thierry was extremely grateful for.
The large red digital clock that had, somehow, stayed in-tact throughout their titanic clash….and all the while it continued its foreboding count-down until the AA-35 was unleashed upon Kyoto.
3:20.
Three minutes and twenty seconds.
'Come on Thierry, just a little bit more.'
Taking a deep breath, Thierry brought his sword to bear once more on the buxom Fallen, whilst casting a glance at the small, unconscious form of the girl some fifteen metres from the two of them. Tauriel had brought a child into this whole mess….threatened Thierry and Raynare, his friend. Threatened to re-start the great war for her 'beloved' master.
That was reason enough to dig that little bit deeper….
And finally end this madness once and for all.