Thanks to ElTangoDeRoxanne and emeraldonyxdragon! Sorry, this chapter is short!
Marcus rolled over, his hand falling to rest on Blair's. She was so soft and warm; if he had to choose a word, he would have to say she was snuggly. He rolled even closer, smiling, and held her tightly to him, his hands curling about her thin shoulders. Cold fingers touched his shoulder, and he frowned. Who dared interrupt his moment with Blair? The fingers prodded him again, more urgently. He refused to move, tightening his grip on her.
Blair growled, a deep rumbling noise. Wait. Blair growled?
Marcus opened his eyes and realized he was not,in fact, holding Blair, and was, in fact, hugging the furry leg of a huge crocodile-like creature. The hand that had been poking him belonged to Balthier the sky pirate, his undead body as cold as ever, and his face was one of mixed amusement and horror. Barnes, Blair, Kyle, and John were already awake, and had their guns trained on the hard carapace that covered the gator's actual head. Fran nocked an arrow to her bow, ready to release it at any moment should the situation get hairy. Which, considering that their opponent was a wooly gator, the situation already was.
"Very, very slowly, let go of the gator's leg." Balthier instructed. "Whatever you do, do not pull out any hair." Marcus began to release his grip on the wooly gator's leg, sweat making the white fur stick to his palms. He forced his breath in and out evenly. If he still had his heart, he was sure it would be hammering, but John's heart (which was actually Marcus's) was probably pounding hard enough for the both of them. Just as he began to move, the wooly gator took a few stomping steps forward, and a huge hank of wool caught under Marcus's foot came ripping out.
The wooly gator gave an angry roar and stampeded, trampling the cyborg into the sand underfoot and ramming into the sky pirate. Its long nose caught him square in the gut, and with a toss of its head, sent him flying into a nearby bush. For reasons as of yet unknown, when he landed, Balthier gave an agonized yell. Fran managed to let her arrow loose before she dove for cover out of the gator's path, but the arrow bounced off the creature's protective mask. Barnes, tripping and stumbling in the sand, dragged Kyle to safety, just as John pointed his gun toward one of the gator's gaping eyeholes and fired.
Blood sprayed everywhere, dying the animal's white fleece red, and it collapsed to the ground, legs flailing. It shuddered once, then went still. John smirked.
"Take that, you sonofa—"
"Marcus! Are you alright?" Blair helped Marcus up from where he had been pressed into the ground by the gator's gigantic feet.
"I feel like I got hit by a truck." He said dizzily. "I'm really starting to hate water creatures. They just don't agree with me."
"Technically, hydrobots aren't creatures." Kyle pointed out.
Fran was already in the bushes, trying to help her partner, but her face was quickly coloring in the attempt to keep from laughing.
"It's not funny!" Balthier moaned. "Help me up—ugh!" his face contorted in pain again. Kyle wandered over to see what was happening, and what he saw made him double up with laughter.
The sky pirate's brief flight had been cut short, broken by the desert bush and cushioned by an irate cactaur. Its long spines had penetrated deep into his back and legs, and the area in between as well. "What's going to happen next? First the bundle of needles, now the cactaur. Am I going to be ambushed by a falling Morning Star Mace?" Balthier asked as John courteously helped him to his feet. As soon as it was freed from its heavy burden, the cactaur leaped up and began slapping Balthier's shins with its prickly little arms. Sadly, his shin guards were performing their duty of guarding his shins, and its needles were turned aside by the metal plates. Balthier, annoyed, gave the dancing cactus a hefty kick, and it lay in the sands, stunned.
"Let's get moving before any other manner of spiny objects decide to impale me today," he grumped, plucking the cactaur's needles from his posterior while Fran pulled prickles from his back by the handful.
Balthier parked the Strahl above a Teleport Stone in the Nabreus Deadlands, just above the fog layer. The mist was so thick; it looked as if the airship was floating over a heaving white sea. There was golden Mist as well, reflecting phantom images at them, but its normally vibrant green-blue and gold hues seemed muted. A grey shroud had descended over everything, dampening the party's spirits, and after a few failed attempts at light conversation, they simply ceased talking all together. Marcus led the way, stating that he'd picked up the signal of the two Terminators. Blair, normally as brave as a lioness, clung to his arm, eyes wide as she stared at the skeleton warriors, banshees, and ghouls wandering the desolate marsh.
"I am glad there is not enough Mist on Earth to allow the dead to come back." Kyle whispered as a Skeleton Warrior watched them go by, red light burning in its eye sockets. "Think how many there'd be!"
"Why don't they attack?" Barnes whispered, fingering his gun. A small entourage of zombies was following them at a distance, but they would not get within ten feet of the group before wandering away. "On earth, zombies always go 'round groaning for brains. In all the books I read, they like nothin' more than rippin' people limb from limb."
"And so they do." Fran replied, her ears swiveling back and forth, straining for any signs of danger. "I, too, think it is strange, but I would not question our good luck. I think it is likely because of Balthier's presence—he is an undead himself, and since we are with him, we are left alone."
"You travel with a zombie?" Barnes looked horrified; he could almost imagine Balthier's face turning ash grey and green, rotting, decaying, flesh slithering to the ground, muscles, tendons, and bones exposed to the air, slime oozing from lacerated wounds.
"He was Hume, once." Fran smiled affectionately. "He still is capable of feeling most of the emotions granted the sentient races of Ivalice. Balthier finds difficulty in expressing his sadness, fears, and extreme happiness, but he can and does. You saw it earlier."
Barnes shook his head. "I feel the same way 'bout Balthier as I do Marcus. Marcus was a human too, but now he's a machine. All machines are the same, no matter how they act—they're all killin' weapons. They ain't the same as us, I feel, and every second, Marcus could get taken over by Skynet and kill us, that's how I see it."
Fran glanced at him sidelong. "But if you feel the same way about Balthier as you do Marcus, do you see Balthier attempting to rip chunks of us?" Barnes shook his head.
"But I got that fear, deep down. It's kept me alive throughout Judgment Day, and it'll keep me alive in the future."
"I pray you will live to see the end of your war." Fran said softly.
Marcus led them through the marshes, though they had a few incidents involving ravenous Baknamy, but stopped when the path led them through an ominous building rising out of the Deadlands.
"The Necrohal of Nabudis…" Balthier breathed. "Why, of all places, have those machines chosen the deepest hellhole of all to hide in?"
"Beats me. What's so bad about this place? It's just a ruin." Blair shrugged. Fran stepped forward, her ears erect.
"There is darkness there that can be felt. Not only is it inhabited by the reanimated corpses of those who perished at the start of the Nethicite War during the conquest of Nabradia and Dalmasca, but ghosts have come to haunt the scene of the battle for Nabudis." She said. "Those who are wise would turn back."
"We cannot go back." John snapped. "We are cut off from all support from Earth, and we risk letting your world get destroyed as well if we leave. We go forward." He stalked into the darkness, Mist swirling in his wake.
The inside of the Necrohol was pitch black. Water dripped from the ceiling and pooled in collapsed staircases. Squeaking gargoyles wove back and forth between the pillars, and banshees screamed, loud enough to be heard several corridors away. John instantly regretted entering, the hair on the back of his neck rising.
"Marcus, lead the way." He whispered, and they crept forward, following the cyborg. Eventually, they came to a large door, three medallions stuck in the stone. Marcus made to push it open, but Balthier stopped him.
"Allow me. No matter what, I can't die." He murmured, glancing toward Fran. He eased it open, the hinges squealing horribly, and peered into the gloom.
Silence, but for the sound of their breath.
"Did I imagine that I sensed them?" Marcus asked quietly.
"It could have been the Mist…" John speculated, before Fran shouted:
"Move!"
Several bullets imbedded themselves in the wall just above Kyle's head. The young man yelped, diving toward the ground as the wall was peppered with several more bullets.
"What the—?" he gasped. The two Terminators stalked toward them, one armed with a gun, the other with an ornate sword. The one with the sword cranked open its jaws, and began to speak in a sad, ugly drone.
"Ashe…" Balthier's eyes widened. "Ashe… I'm so sorry I didn't make it…"
"No way…" he whispered.
"I won't rest until I kill him… the one who killed our father, orchestrated our defeat…"
"Rasler... I don't believe it, it's possessed by the ghost of Rasler." Balthier backed away from the approaching Terminator. An oversoul could be seen hovering just above it, connected by threads hanging from its ragged cloak.
"I took an oath, Ashe. I took an oath so I could stay on Ivalice with you and keep you company. But then I couldn't leave… Ashe… It's so dark, Ashe… They took you away, didn't they? Damn them… Damn the Archadians… Damn you, Vayne!" The Terminator swung at them, sword biting deep into the ground. John fired a volley of shots before the second Terminator almost plugged him.
"Fran! Use Holy!" Balthier shouted, skipping out of the way of another sword swing. She obliged, the white light filling the chamber. Ignoring the sting as the Holy magick reacted with his undead flesh, Balthier attempted to go for the sweet spot at the back of the Terminator's neck. He was surprised when the oversoul, angered by the use of magick and blinded by pain, lashed out at him, impaling him on one of its black, curling claws. He struggled to get free, but the monster's claw had gotten jammed and twisted between his ribs, and he was stuck. "Brilliant," he snapped, drawing his dagger and stabbing at the oversoul's body.
"Vayne must die. He took you away, didn't he, Ashe… he's keeping us apart, and keeping me in the dark. Come, Ashe, please… show me to the light… it's cold and I can't see!" Rasler, or rather his vengeful ghost, screamed. Kyle thrust a grenade into its open mouth, but the Terminator kept coming, powered by the oversoul's fearsome power even though it had been decapitated. John and Barnes, working together, brought down the other Terminator, but the wreckage also continued to move, metal shavings whizzing everywhere. Marcus hissed as one lodged itself in his back before lifting a huge rock and flinging it at the Terminator the oversoul controlled.
Meanwhile, Balthier realized what must have happened—Rasler's spirit had been trapped by his oath for so long that he could no longer depart. He did not know that both Vayne and Ashe had already passed. Therefore, the pirate did the only thing that he knew could help the soul. He dragged himself closer to the smaller skull imbedded in the oversoul's forehead, groaning as he felt the claw sliding about under his ribcage.
"Rasler!" he shouted, reaching out and grabbing the skull. "Rasler! Vayne is dead! You're free!" A second claw smashed through his back, and he snarled in pain. "Listen to me!" he gasped.
"Ashe… Ashe…" the creature moaned, and so did Balthier as Fran used another Holy spell almost on top of him. "Ashe… please, show me the light then, if Vayne has died… I want to get out…"
Balthier shook his head. "Ashe is dead, and has been so for over twenty years. Let go of your hate, and you can see her again. Would you rather she saw you as you are now?"
"Ashe…" the oversoul shook, its form changing, claws shrinking into human hands, face changing to that of a young man. Balthier dropped to the ground as its claws slid out of him, and Fran caught him before he fell completely, her hands glowing with healing magick.
"Thank you…" The ghost of Rasler faded, rising into the darkness, and the last Terminator collapsed under a barrage of gunfire.
Fran looked to Barnes. "Hate is a terrible thing… enough vengeance, and a soul will never find peace."
Yays.