As the three men turned and took off again, this time united in their pursuit, they unthinkingly crossed over a metal grating built for drainage. They had already passed over many. There was no reason to think of this one as any different. Midgar had been using them for years to lead into storm sewers, after all. It didn't even enter any of their minds as they went by.
However…had one of them looked down it, they would have heard a small cry and then a scuffling away. That would be because the one who now stood down there, looking up through the cracks of light that spilled through down on him, had been standing there and listening to their dialogue. There was nothing special about him. He looked like a homeless person, dressed in mostly trashy clothes, and overgrown and dirty. Yet on having his attention turned to him…Tumahab would have immediately picked up on negative desires coming from him…and he would have been interrogated. Nevertheless, that wasn't a factor now. The only thing that mattered was that he had been listening in to the entire conversation with keen interest.
Once he was sure they were out of earshot, the man reached down into his ratty, stained coat. He pulled out a cellular phone that looked far too new to be for his level of income. He quickly flipped it open and pressed a button, and then raised it to his mouth. He only had to wait for it to ring once or twice before it came on…
"Hello…is the doctor there? This is Jeeves… Shut up and listen to me. I found something. Something he's been talking about… I said shut up for a moment! I think he'll be interested in hearing this…"
"Admiral on the bridge!"
Immediately, the officer company on the Imperial dropped what they were doing and stood up from the chairs at attention. The first mate herself got out of the command chair, walked around the side, and then stood up at attention so that she was facing the rear door. It was much lighter now. Sunlight was coming in through the viewing window, and had illuminated the bridge with a natural glow. Many of them were further relaxed now. They had taken on many of the soldiers from sinking transports last night, and sent help to keep the less damaged ones aloft until they came back. But overall, things had calmed down considerably.
Admiral Ashiah looked over the area for a moment, seeing the well-prepped officers and the day outside. She seemed slightly overwhelmed and bewildered. That figured. She had been unconscious most of the night, ever since ejecting from the imminent destruction of her boat. She was bandaged in a few places under her uniform now, in particular her head, which had also been stitched. Her skull would have been smashed in if if hadn't been for her helmet, which even now she still held in one hand. It had a rather sizable indentation in it accenting that fact. Nevertheless, after a moment, she removed herself from the petty officer that had been helping her get up from sickbay back to the bridge. She now slowly limped forward.
As she did, she looked up and to the window in the back. This seemed to confuse her most of all. Outside, far in the horizon, one could see land beginning to come forward. However, this land was different. It had many towers dotting the shore in stages of construction, piers that were half built, and a rather large dry-dock that was building a rather massive ship. She recognized this immediately, and her eyes widened.
"We're back at base?" She asked aloud.
The captain turned around a moment, hesitated, but then stepped forward to the Admiral. "Yes, madam."
"Why are we back at base?" He continued, turning her eyes down to the captain.
The woman hesitated a moment. "…I ordered a withdrawal, madam. We had lost the Adamant and over half of our-"
Abruptly, Ashiah's face turned to violent anger. While the captain was still talking, she swung her helmet up and smashed it into the side of the woman's head. The blow was so strong that it gave out a sickening thud before dropping her to the ground unconscious. A gash was against her brow, and blood began to run out.
"You imbecile!" Ashiah shrieked, so loud and angrily that the rest of the officers recoiled slightly, even from a distance. "You fool! You damned coward! You ruined me! You ruined my whole operation! You've turned me into a laughing-stock!"
Of course, the captain couldn't answer. She was out and fallen on the ground. Yet those nearby almost took a step back, shrinking away from the sudden anger that had come over their admiral. Her face had turned as red as a beet, and her eyes were those of an insane person. She continued to fume and glare at the fallen woman for a few moments more, breathing hard and heavy. But then, she took in a deep breath and straightened herself up. She lost her angry look, and calmly smoothed her uniform and brushed some of her hair out of her eyes. Her rage disappeared, and she was once again sane and calm. Once that was done, she calmly walked around the bleeding body in front of her and back to her command seat, where she sat. Once there, she looked just as normal as she had yesterday.
"Deck officer?" She called behind her.
One of them was stil stunned at the act, but in the end walked forward and stood at attention. "Yes, madam?"
"Take Captain Lymon to the brig. The rest of you, as you were."
The officer hesitated at that. He didn't know what the crime could possibly be. However, he wouldn't dispute the anger he had just seen. He quickly turned and motioned for a pair of ensigns. They came and began to go down to her sides to grab her by her shoulders and feet and carry her out.
While they did this, the rest of the officers slowly went back to their tasks, not saying another word after what had happened. The admiral looked down to her helmet as they resumed, and saw the blood still on it. In the end, she simply dropped it on the ground so that she could fold her hands in front of her. After that, she called out.
"Communications?"
"Yes, admiral?"
"Has High General Leers inquired yet as to why we have returned?"
"He has sent us two messages so far demanding a reply, but Captain Lymon wished to wait until you had returned to the bridge to answer them herself."
"Here is the reply." Ashiah answered, leaning back. "We were proceeding with orders as issued, but Captain Lymon went behind my back and ordered us to attack the enemy at their strongest point. Due to her decision, we lost many of our transports and the Adamant. She is currently being held in our brig, and she will be court marshaled for mutiny. Admiral's personal recommendation: execution."
About thirty minutes later, and the three men had arrived. They didn't bother hiding…at least not at first. After all, two of them were the generals. They could go anywhere. And so, they boldly walked out onto an abandoned mass parking lot. It had been repaved in the past six months, and many of the surrounding warehouses had been refurbished. The result was creating an airfield for Midgar, in particular one that could hold the large Sierra aircraft. Now, as the sun began to clear the horizon, the massive machine was illuminated in all of its glory. As they walked out onto the concrete ground, it hovered there, attached by a few ropes like a ship flying on a sea of air tied to a dock. A few workers were running around it, as were a few guards to keep anyone from just coming along and trying to take it. Mostly, the workers were the busy ones. They had been working for hours to replace one of the engines, after taking a hit the other day.
"I sure hope they had time to finish…" Ragnar remarked as they walked to the airship.
"I sure hope that this artifact is real…" Cloud answered. "We might need to use it on ourselves after Cid finds out we borrowed his airship."
"Are you sure you can fly this thing?" Ragnar asked, turning his head to Cloud.
"I took a basic operators course back in Shinra Inc. And I've watched him enough times." Cloud answered with a shrug. "But I'm pretty sure I'm going to have at least one of you doing things as well. So long as all we're doing is flying the thing, I think we might be ok."
"You 'think'?" Ragnar answered with some nervousness.
"I know I can do better than you did on a motorcycle." The ex-mercenary answered with a shrug.
The three continued to cross the field for a bit longer, drawing closer and closer to the great machine. Ragnar looked around a bit, half expecting that his friends had some sort of sixth sense that told them what he and Cloud were about to do, or at least had brought them out to them. But of course, there was nothing. None of them…no security officers…not a thing. The three were free to move forward for a bit longer, until they came to a halt about a hundred yards before the ship itself. There it sat, already with the hatch open and waiting for its passengers. Crew members were still running around it performing operations, and the guards stood steadfast. However, they weren't yet close enough to merit any attention.
Once here, Ragnar gave out a sigh. "Alright…now what?"
"We could just try to go up there and take it." Cloud suggested. "I mean, you are the general and everything."
"Well we both are. But somehow, I have a feeling a platoon of generals wouldn't get these people to let anyone on the ship without Cid's approval."
"We could fight through them."
Ragnar looked to Cloud in surprise. "I don't want to beat up my own troops!"
"Well, ask them for it, then beat them up if they say no." Cloud answered with a shrug. "Insubordination."
"I don't think you two will have to worry that much." Dr. Tumahab suddenly announced. This made both men turn back to him. The old man had a knowing smile on his face, and seemed rather confident. He bowed his head again and began to reach up to his glasses. He didn't look to either of them, but rather to the ship and the crowd up ahead. "Isn't it close to Captain Cid Highwind's birthday?"
Both men responded with puzzled expressions. "…What does that have to do with anything?" Cloud finally asked.
Tumahab didn't answer. He merely looked ahead and to the people, taking off his glasses. Ragnar himself looked back to them after seeing him do this, wondering what was up. A few moments went by. But then…he started to notice something. The workers, one by one, began to slow down on their jobs. They kept doing so until they came to a stop. Some of the others saw this, and turned to them and said something. But then they soon slowed down and ceased as well. The guards of the area slowly began to lower their weapons, and began to turn out to look farther in the distance.
Suddenly, they all changed. All of the workers put down their tools, turned, and began to jog off of the field. They all moved in the same direction. Not only that, but the guards soon shouldered their own weapons, turned, and ran off after them. However, it didn't look like they were trying to chase them down. It seemed more like they were joining them. None of them said a word to one another or gave any explanation for this. They just all abandoned their posts and left. Within a few moments, the last of them was running off, and the airfield was left clear in his wake. There was now nothing standing between the three of them and the Sierra.
Tumahab cracked a small smile, and reset his glasses. Cloud looked in utter puzzlement at what had happened. He turned back to the doctor, who merely smiled at the scene before him, and then back to the airfield. "…Where are they all going?"
Ragnar didn't understand it either…but he knew the cause. "…Maybe they received an urgent message or something on the radio. At any rate, let's not stick around here. Let's get to the ship while we still can."
"Quite right." Tumahab agreed.
Soon, both he and Ragnar had broken into a jog of their own to the ship. Cloud himself looked up to this in confusion. But he finally decided not to open a Mist package before arrival. Unusual as this was, he seized the opportunity. He soon broke into a run to catch up with them.
"Alright, so after we get the-"
Cid was cut off, and the rest of the room stunned, as the door to the meeting area was broken in the other way, this time finishing the job Cloud had started and busting it off of its hinges. Expecting an assault, those in the room stood up and turned to the doorway, readying themselves for an attack.
However, something very puzzling occurred instead. Suddenly, the room began to fill with smiling, joyful people. They nearly crushed themselves in the doorway as they busted in, and quickly began to flood one side of the room. They disregarded anyone else being there, and the officers seated quickly had to get up and run to the other side as they came in and started to crowd out everything else. As theydid…it began to become apparent as to who they were. Most of them looked like Cid's greasemonkeys and crew. They were still dirty and smelling like oil, as if they had come fresh from the airfield site. Some of them, however, were Planet Protector Army guards, still holding their weapons. But they all looked happy and jovial.
Everyone who had been in the room soon found themselves pushed to one side as forty other people filled the other, and stared them down with their beaming faces. They held like this for a moment, until they began to realize something. All of them were Cid's people…and all of them were staring at him.
The man seemed to realize this. "What the f-"
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CAPTAIN! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!"
The group stared at the forty of them, totally dumbfounded. As they did, the crowd began to clap hard and cheer for Cid. The officers were so stunned that none of them could respond to this right away. They just stared blankly and tried to make sense out of what had just happened. In the end, it was Cid who, still looking confused, stepped forward and called out to them.
"What in the hell are you all doing!"
"Wishing you happy birthday, Captain!" One of the guards called out. His accompanying crowd clapped and cheered in response.
Cid waited for this to subside again, but then blared out again. "What the hell are you talking about! It ain't my damn birthday!"
Abruptly, the crowd, as one, began to look confused and puzzled. One of the workers scratched his head. "It isn't…?"
"NO!"
After saying that, the happiness began to die quickly. In its place were confused people. As their smiles and enthusiasm died, they began to look down and around. But that wasn't all. They mostly began to look bewildered. Some of them were shaking their heads, as if they were clearing something out of them. Others began to look down and around as if they had no idea what they were doing there. The confusion continued to spread for a moment, until one of them gave a shrug.
"Then…what are we doing here?"
"I dunno…"
"How did we get here?"
"Did you say it was his birthday?"
"I thought you said it…"
It soon became rather obvious that the whole crew had no idea what was going on, or how they had gotten there. None of the others could understand this, or what it meant. At least, for a moment they couldn't. That was before Red XIII began to remember something similar to this…only that it had been unsuccessful. Yet before he could announce what it was…something sounded out from outside of the building that caused everyone to look up in attention.
The sound of jet engines.
Cid's eyes widened, as he seemed to start putting two and two together. "Oh…shit…"
Despite how thick the crowd was, Cid dove into them none the less and seemed to throw them out of the way as he plowed through it like a whale through the ocean. In no time at all, he was to the door and running out to the exit of the building. The rest of the group only hesitated a moment before taking off after him. By now, the workers were looking up and had recognized the sound, and were beginning to grow nervous. So were the guards. However, they stayed apart and let them come forward, bursting through them and clearing out of the way. It was harder for them, but at last they were all through, and once they all were they followed after Cid. The rest of the crowd turned and began to follow after.
By the time the other officers had reached the doors to the building and gone through, they saw that Cid was already outside andstaring up to the sky. As they began to exit, he began to let out a stream of obscenities, mostly screaming them into the air. He yanked off his goggles and ineffectually threw them up, as if trying to hit something. He continued to make a huge scene as the others filed out and looked.
The jet engine sound was almost on them now…and soon they saw it. The great form of the Sierra streaked through the sky, passing over the camp once, before turning and making its way to the west. In a few moments, it had gone, leaving everyone and Cid's cursing far behind.
"Heh-heh…you should check this out. This latest one is pretty good."
Elena snapped around and fumed. "Will you stop reading that!" She cried out in a harsh whisper. "Aren't we supposed to be on a job?"
"Job?" Reno asked, not looking up from the manga he was reading, which sported a rather large cartoon tanooki on the front of it. He snorted. "You call this a job? I'm not even having to do any work. Neither are you. You should learn to take it easy more, Elena."
"Well, the least you two could do is be quiet, like Rude over there." Krystea threw in, motioning behind her. Rude himself was reclining, and had a pencil out as he slowly worked his way over a sudoku puzzle. Abruptly, after writing a number, he frowned and began to erase it again, looking frustrated. "I might be good, but if you yell like that I'm still going to miss."
The six months had been pretty boring for the Turks. When they signed on with the New Shinra Army, they expected to be getting quite a few well-paying jobs requiring their expertise. As it turned out…they had been running around since then being the garbage boys for the New Shinra, cleaning up small messes and handling tiny jobs worth only about 10,000 gil. It had mostly been a colossal waste of time. In fact, on jobs like this, they didn't even bother all getting into the act. They merely let one of them handle it while the others lounged. At least…Rude and Reno did. Elena, businesslike and proper as always, demanded to handle everything as a team, as if each place they went too was full of snipers in a war zone.
Right now, the four were situated on a hill overlooking the coast of the Northern Continent. From where they were, it was rather forested. There was lots of cover. However, there was also a small opening through which, if one was standing just right, they could look through the canopy and understory of the forest and way down to an area nearly 500 yards away. There, almost secluded, save for the area where they were sitting, was a single small boat. It looked rather old, rotted, and peeling, but it was obviously seaworthy, because it was tied to shore and floating in the sea waves. It had no motor, just oars. A person would have to have the stamina and strength of a bull to try and row the channel between the Northern Continent and the Eastern Continent…but nevertheless, based on their intel, they believed that their target was going to be dumb enough to try.
"If you really don't want to do it, Krystea," Reno called up from his manga. He was reclining on the ground at the moment, having found a good spot in the shade and a nice rock to lay against. "We could just wait for this idiot to run out of strength on the ocean, then fly a chopper out and pick him up."
"That's alright." The woman answered. She snickered a moment afterward. "…I'd like the practice. And besides, fuel is expensive."
Reno cracked a grin. "Now you see, Elena? Why can't you be more laid back like her?"
The blonde Turk glared daggers at Reno. She, of course, wasn't sitting at all, but standing like Krystea was, although she wasn't supposed to be doing anything. Now, she placed her hands on her hips and frowned. "You could at least try to make yourself somewhat useful, and read the dossier again."
Reno rolled his eyes. He let out a large sigh as he let the manga fall against his chest. "Just as the dude kicked the two-headed demon in the nuts, too…" He grumbled. "Fine. If it will get you to leave me in peace…" With that, he reached over to his side, and picked up an manilla folder he had unceremoniously dumped there when he arrived, before getting out his manga. Bringing it up to his chest, he opened it up again, pulled out the contents, and began to read over the cover paper.
"Felix Leonard…" He announced. "Unemployed. Career drug abuser and addict. Picked up in the streets of Junon, vomiting on himself, three weeks ago. Impressed into labor. However…apparently the guy couldn't go that long without his juice, and he broke away to try and escape New Shinra's little Island of Lost Souls."
"Hmph." Rude announced from where he was, still moving on his puzzle. "Should've waited one more week. He might have been clean…"
"Don't know if he could have done that." Reno answered with a shrug. "It's because he was so desperate that he managed to overpower his guards rather than get shot right away at the first sign of trouble."
Krystea was standing farther away from the others, facing the opening in the trees. She removed her own personal weapon from her black suitcoat: the Valentine. Custom made and deadly, it was a cannon among pistols, and yet was accurate enough to hit a bulls-eye in the hands of an experienced gunner. And that was what Krystea was. She opened it up and checked inside, looking over her own handmade bullets, and making sure they were in there. "So we terminate him?"
"Nah." Reno answered, tossing the folder aside again, and going for his manga once more. "New Shinra values its slaves more now that it doesn't matter if they tell others they exist or not. Still, they don't care if we cripple this one. He's been too problematic. And they want to know how exactly he managed to escape before someone else figures it out."
Krystea frowned. "That makes it a bit more trouble… How badly do they want him to do heavy labor again?"
"Pretty badly, I'd guess."
The woman sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. This is going to be a toughy…"
With that said, Krystea cracked her neck once, and then slammed her gun shut. With that done, she raised her weapon and limbered herself up a bit. She very carefully aimed the pistol at the desired location. She had no special scope or sight, just the normal tab on the end of the weapon that showed roughly the direction the bullet would go. But once there…she completely froze. She didn't move a millimeter, turning into a total statue.
Reno and Rude went back to their tasks. Elena herself turned and anxiously watched Krystea, ducking a bit as she did so. It didn't really matter. He couldn't see them from there if he knew where to look. The small enclave went silent, save for Rude occasionally cursing as he missed another number on his puzzle, or Reno letting out a small chuckle from his manga. A few minutes of silence passed, during which Krystea didn't so much as shift weight.
At last, far in the distance, a rustle managed to echo its way back to the four. Neither Rude nor Reno looked up, but Elena tensed. Krystea didn't move a muscle. Her eyes became as steady and motionless as an owl's. She kept looking into the forest, and far ahead through the vast distance to the boat…standing there like a deer hunter in a stand waiting for a buck to take the bait.
Someone finally emerged, running forward into the small visual range. He was shaking all over like a leaf. He looked like a very big person. He also looked like he had an acute case of the DTs. He was panicking and wildly looking around, jumping at every noise. From the looks of him, it was a surprise that he had made it this far without having a total breakdown. But in the end, he snapped around to the boat. Still quivering all over, he walked forward to it.
Krystea took only a second longer to aim her weapon completely right…finding the body part she meant to target, and then calculating the distance, wind, weight of the bullet, and what trajectory it needed to hit. Once that was done, she pulled the trigger.
The gun thundered like a cannon, sending a blast so strong through the forest that every bird in it was scared out of their minds, and took off as if the world was ending. As for the man down near the boat, he suddenly went rigid, and then collapsed to the ground in a heap. He moved no more.
Satisfied, Krystea lowered her arms at long last. Only then did she give a long sigh and relax. She began to crack her neck and rotate other parts of her body, trying to get them to loosen up. She was sore, after all, from having been in that position. She popped open the Valentine next, and pulled out a shell before discarding it to the side. After that, she slammed it shut and replaced it in her coat.
Without looking up at all, Reno called out. "Get him?"
"Yeah. He's ready to be picked up." Krystea calmly responded.
To any casual observer, they would have said that Krystea was crazy, and that she had just screwed up and killed him. It looked like she had just marked him. However, she knew such wasn't the case. If it was, there would have been a rather large hole blown through the center of his head, assuming he still had a head. Yet she knew she was supposed to take him alive. Normally, she would have aimed for the Achilles' tendon or the kneecap after that. But doing so would cripple him permenantly, and he wouldn't be able to work again.
However, Krystea had analyzed just how crazed and panicked that this man was. Once she discovered it, she had come up with another idea. She had taken careful aim just above the top of his head. She took into account that the head and brain itself was a rather ballistic surface, and that it could roll off shots almost as easily as it could take them. With that in mind, she aimed it at just the right position, ensuring that the bullet would roll off of his head, even as powerful as it was, but would leave a gash and a rather hot pain in its wake. Of course, it would bleed a lot. Head injuries always did. But it wouldn't be fatal. Therefore…the sound of the massive gunshot, the feeling of being hit, the sudden loss of pressure from blood, coupled with how jittery and panicked the man was… It was a surefire way to get the man to pass out into unconsciousness.
To do such a shot from over 500 yards, with such steely accuracy, was almost superhuman.
Reno let out a sigh and slowly closed his book. "Next time, could you delay another minute?" He asked. "I was nearly done with that chapter." He put it away, slipping it back into his own loose suitcoat, and began to stand up. "How are you doing over there, Rude?"
"Been working on this thing for three weeks… Still haven't got it." The man grumbled in response.
Reno had barely gotten to his feet, however…when his cellular began to ring. The others turned to him at that, even Rude looking up from his troublesome sudoku. As for Reno…he rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated groan. "Oh for the love of…" He grumbled aloud. "What does he want now?"
"Maybe he finally wants us to assassinate that general." Elena suggested.
Reno snickered. "Yeah. I'll let you be the one to go through Cloud to get to him…" He murmured.
The thought made Elena pale a bit and swallow, losing a bit of her confidence in the process. The fact of the matter was that good as they were, they had never been able to whip Cloud in a fight. Perhaps two of them could do it if he was alone, but not without taking a lot of hits. Reno himself had a few long scars from his sword the time they clashed at the Sector Seven plate… At any rate, he reached down to his phone and pulled it out. He clicked a button, and then put it up alongside his head. "Reno here."
Krystea, Elena, and Rude all looked to Reno, waiting for the verdict. Rude even put his game away in his own coat and stood up again, calmly buttoning it. The man shifted weight a few times, cocking his head from side to side as he listened to the other end. He chewed his lip after a moment. "Yeah." He finally announced. Another pause, and then a shrug. "Well, sounds like something up our alley. Any resistance?" Another pause, and then a sigh. "Well, fine. We're cleaning up Leonard's ass right now and heading back anyway. Be there in forty-five minutes." With that, Reno slammed the phone shut, and began to replace it.
"What was it?" Rude asked.
"A real mission, it sounds like." Reno answered. "Some anonymous tip came in that they verified as correct, based on the information they have. They'll tell us more when we get there, but from the sound of it, it looks like we're thwarting an invasion of some kind."
The rusty, beat-up, puttering elevator slowly came to a halt, jumping a bit as it so. Once it had landed, it very slowly pulled its two doors aside. The blazing sun and a blast of hot, dry air greeted the occupants. Ragnar himself winced in it, gritting his teeth. He hated it immediately. He wasn't used to being this hot and dry, especially not in the middle of spring. He only reluctantly stepped out as the other three exited readily, setting foot on the barren, dusty ground that surrounded the elevator.
As soon as they left, Cloud turned his head to their new companion. She was one of the more odd-looking women that Ragnar had ever seen. She wasn't very attractive, and her wearing of hot-pink, elegant and elaborate dresses with long white gloves and stockings seemed both inappropriate and strange. However, she had a pleasant face, and she was very business-like and helpful with their inquiries.
"I appreciate you doing this for us, Ester." The ex-mercenary addressed him. "I know getting out of the Corel Prison is one thing, but getting in is another. How'd you ever manage to get Dio to let us use the elevator?"
"It was easy." The woman answered as she continued to lead them forward. "I just told him you were going to run in another race with Boki."
Cloud's eyes widened a bit at that, and he turned in surprise to the woman. "Another race?" He called out in disbelief. "Look…I retired from that long ago. And Boki's a stud now. I can't just get back on him and get out there. I practically forgot how to do it. If people want a winner to bet on, why don't they just use Teioh?"
"That's the problem." Ester answered. "Any race that we have, Teioh's a shoe-in to win. Everyone just bets on him. It doesn't matter that we lowered his odds to 1.25 to 1; people won't bet on anyone else when he races. We've been going in the red for months on Chocobo Racing. We're either going to have to fire Joe and retire Teioh, or we're going to have to pit him against you and Boki. Now Joe may be experienced, but he doesn't have nearly enough saved up to retire on yet, especially since he's a breeder himself. And as for Teioh…" She hesitated, and frowned here. She leaned in a bit closer and nearly whispered this. "…I've heard the rumor go around that Dio's looking for some stable-boy to hamstring him so they can start making profits again. So you understand my problem."
Cloud rolled his eyes and let out a groan. However, Ragnar knew better. He could tell that Cloud didn't like the sound of this. He might have had a fairly uncaring attitude, but he was compassionate enough where he didn't want to see a perfectly good black chocobo crippled because he was too much of an inconvenience for a hedonistic, greedy man.
"Basically, he thinks a good way to make lots of money is to enter you in a race with him at 8 to 1 odds. He's counting on you being out of practice. That way, when everyone bets on you thinking they're going to make a fortune and you lose, he'll end up getting rich."
"Same old Dio…" Cloud grumbled as he lowered his head again. "He just better not think of sending any 'stable-boys' out to break my kneecaps if I say I'm not going to throw it…"
"You know, that's an idea, Cloud." Ragnar suddenly announced. "If Boki is really that great of a chocobo, then maybe we could start using the chocobo races as a way of getting income. Multiply our savings."
Cloud, to this, turned around and looked incredulously at the youth. He wasn't alone. Tumahab turned and gave him a critical glare as well…which bore down on him much more than Cloud's. However, after a moment, the man gave a chuckle.
"I don't believe it. Boy Scout back here actually wants to take the PPA's funds and go to the track."
Ragnar immediately blushed at the sudden look, in particular Tumahab's, and bowed his head again. Embarassed at having voiced the suggestion, he didn't say anything else as they walked on.
The four proceeded a bit further into the desert, clearing their way out from under the shade of the massive theme park dangling over their heads. After that, things became really bad. The sun came out full force and struck the three of them with its burning intensity. Ragnar winced as he began to break out in a sweat. If that wasn't enough, he didn't like the environment. Emerging out from the elevator led the four of them into what appeared to be a giant metal scrap graveyard. Sand-beaten, rusty old engines and machines were everywhere, some half buried in the dirt, some just merely falling apart around them. If that wasn't all, there were quite a few rough looking people around. Most of them were dressed in rags or old clothing. All of them had rather dark appearances, and looked rather unpleasant and unfriendly. That was only typical. They had gone into the middle of a prison. Ragnar had been in a jail before, but that was only for punishing slaves. These people were real criminals. Most of them were thieves…and quite a few of them were murderers. And on seeing clean, better dressed, and more hydrated outsiders among them…they soon began to gather quite a few looks from the local community.
The youth began to wonder if coming in here was a rather bad idea.
"Well…I'll leave you three to your work." Ester finally stated. Ragnar couldn't be sure if this was as far as she planned on going, or if she picked up on the onlookers and was ready to get out of there. "Have fun. I'll be back at the elevator waiting." With that, she turned and began to walk back to the shade of the Gold Saucer, leaving the three of them standing there in the sun, in the midst of several rows of junk and scrap…and surrounded by some odd twenty prisoners who looked to be going about their business…but still occasionally turned up and gave them dark looks.
"Lovely place." Tumahab remarked aloud.
"Last time I was here, it was supposed to be an extended visit…and I didn't like it." Cloud retorted. "Let's find this place and get out of here." He turned to Ragnar afterward. "You got that thing working, right?"
Ragnar gave a nod in response. A moment later, he reached down to his pocket, and pulled out a small, hand-held device a moment later. This was a basic GPS. The Planet Protector Army had quite a few of them now, enough to make them standard issue for scouting patrols. Ragnar didn't usually carry one on him, but the Sierra kept one on board for emergencies. The youth, believing they would need it after seeing what the directions were on the papers Cloud had swiped, had took it along through Corel and the tram ride to the Gold Saucer, all the way to the lower levels where they found the elevator leading down into the infernal desert.
Now, he held up the device and looked it over. "Yeah. We're only about a mile away."
"Let's go then."
Soon the three of them set out. They ignored the people who watched them. They weren't any of their concern, and so long as they didn't want any trouble, they wouldn't give them any. They fell in behind Ragnar, letting him follow the GPS and direct them to the right place, the coordinates that had been copied down onto the map.
It didn't take long for them to reach the outskirts. There was a flimsy barb wire fence blocking the way, more than easy enough to pass through. After all…one hardly needed to guard the area when the desert itself was the perfect defense. The wire was mostly to keep out the fearsome creatures that tended to roam in the desert. At least…it did before Ruby WEAPON killed most of them off while moving in. And when he was killed, the other creatures had to take some time coming back. At any rate, that meant that their trip would hopefully not be too strenuous. They passed through the barbed wire one by one, and then began to move into the desert.
Ragnar soon began to undo his tunic and his cape, and tied both around his waist. Even then, he felt exhausted. He didn't sweat more, like he thought he would. However, that wasn't because it wasn't as hot as he thought. It was because his sweat was simply evaporating as soon as it came out. He felt he was being slow roasted in the world's largest oven. He hated every moment of it. Soon, his mouth was drying out and beginning to grow sticky, even before he had managed to move that far. No wonder the prisoners weren't really restrained. Going too far away could be suicide.
That wasn't all, however. When Ragnar looked back to try and see how far away they were, to his shock he could see almost nothing. Large as the Gold Saucer was, something about the desert seemed to make it vanish into the swirling heat and sand dunes. Any farther out, and it would be totally gone from view. There was a terrifying thought. Wind was already rushing by and erasing their footsteps. If they hadn't had the GPS, it wouldn't take long for them to be hopelessly lost in this sandy hell. This was a nightmare. Forget up north…why wasn't the Planet getting rid of this wasteland? The youth could barely stand it. Soon, he was wheezing and panting much worse than the others, even though it was only a mile hike. It seemed like it took forever…
Yet at last, on looking down at the GPS, Ragnar saw that they were close. They were surrounded by burning hot sand dunes now. They just had to get here around noon. He took a moment to wipe away at his brow, and then began to turn and move more slowly. He was repositioning himself better. The others followed suit, and looked over his shoulder and to the machine, seeing where he would be going. Ragnar continued to maneuver a bit longer, turning one way and the other, as he made his way to the designate target. But at long last, he saw himself pass over it, and the two crosshairs coincided. He looked up at that and showed his two companions.
"We're here."
Ragnar pulled away the GPS, and looked to the ground a moment later. However, both he and Cloud soon began to appear confused. There was nothing around them on beneath them but more sand.
Cloud crossed his arms and frowned. "So much for following a legend… I feel like some kid who found a treasure map…"
"Oh, you young people nowadays…" Tumahab sighed as he stepped forward, lightly pushing Ragnar to one side and standing where he was. Right after doing so, he got down on his knees, put his hands against the ground, and began to scoop away at the sand. "Always wanting everything done easy. Did it not occur to you that after a thousand years, some of these sand dunes might have covered it?"
The other two paused at that. Now that the doctor mentioned it, that did seem like a possibility. And so, a moment later, Ragnar bent down next to him, and began to scoop as well. Cloud paused a bit longer, but in the end gave a shrug. After all, they had come all this way, after stealing the Sierra. And despite the fact that for a moment he thought it had been for nothing, he began to feel a bit of hope again as he went down and started to dig with them.
It took quite some time to get anywhere. The sand, typically, rolled right back where it had come from, and the wind blew a bit more onto them every now and then. Coupled with the horrendous heat and dryness, it was soon a great big pain. The only relief they received was in digging deeper. The sand that hadn't been exposed to the sun was far cooler than the sand that was. Eventually, two of them had to dig while the other one flung the sand they pushed out as far as they could, as they slowly began to deepen the hole. They also got off course once or twice, forcing them to use the GPS to zero back in on the location. The heat was horrible. Ragnar eventually stripped off his inner shirt as well and tied it around his head to drape over his neck. Cloud removed his own armor and outer tunic as well. Both men began to pant as time wore on. Only Tumahab seemed unaffected as he tirelessly dug into the ground, when the other two were forced to stop for a break. For two hot hours they dug into the sand, slowly sinking into the dunes as they went on.
At last, Tumahab stopped after plunging his hand into the ground. It only sank in a little before stopping. At that, the man ceased digging, and after a pause lowered his hands and began to brush away sand instead. Cloud and Ragnar saw this. Quickly, they dug down to his level, and then began to brush away as well. They started to reveal a black and gray solid formation underneath. The three continued to brush and dig, widening the area until they managed to get a feel for its total size, and then continued to uncover.
What they ended uprevealing was what looked like a massive hatch built into the desert floor. They couldn't tell if it was made of rock or metal, exactly. The mineral that made it up was alien to Ragnar or Cloud. It was fairly big, about twice the radius of a manhole cover. This would allow one person to slip down into it without much difficulty…that is, if it were open. It was sealed right now, fixed against the ground. It had some sort of strange formation and runes on it, with the center guarded by what looked like a sort of monster head. All in all, it looked rather heavy and formidable.
The three stared at it only for a moment. After that, Cloud turned to the papers he had shoved in his pocket. He pulled them out a moment later, flipped through a few, and then reached something.
"There's something here about this being something that only the 'true heir' can open. Some sort of special material from Mt. Zozo…wherever that is." He paused a moment longer, and then frowned. "Looks like someone else found this before and never had any luck opening it…"
Ragnar himself frowned at it. He had read something about this before. It looked similar to some sort of hatch that the espers used. The only ones who could open it were people that were espers themselves. That kind of made it a bit hard on them to get in…
But then…the youth realized something. Of course…they had Tumahab. But as he began to turn to him, he froze again. He suddenly realized something. If he opened it, he would blow his cover. He would reveal his true nature to Cloud. He was a bit confused about how they were going to get around this dilemma…when Tumahab suddenly smiled and turned to Ragnar.
"I believe that I read about these sorts of hatches before. They will open when someone tell them to do so in the Cetra language."
Cloud looked up at that. "…Well, good thing you came along then, kid. And a good thing you somehow learned how to speak it."
Ragnar, on his part, was puzzled. He knew that wasn't true. He stared curiously at Tumahab, wondering what he was talking about. However, as he looked back into his calm, smiling face…he heard a voice in his mind.
Just say the Cetra word for "open", Ragnar. I'll take care of the rest.
The youth paused at that. But then, he gave a nod. He believed he understood. With that, he turned back to the hatch. He licked his lips a moment, before leaning over it a bit. As he did, he commanded Cloud's full attention…so that he failed to see Tumahab look over the hatch as well. Once more, the doctor took off his glasses. He focused fully on the door after that…as his eyes slowly began to burn and turn yellow and reptilian. He continued to do so until Ragnar finally spoke the Cetra word. When that happened, he sent out his own mental message to the hatch at exactly the same time. As soon as that happened, a great clicking sound, like that of an ancient giant clock, emitted from the hatch.The crest in the center popped up, and rotated. As it did, the metal fillagre and runes that seemed to surround the hatch suddenly shifted and drew back, like they were attached to a spool that the crest was spinning on. Once they did, a great hissing sound suddenly escaped from beneath the hatch. It was so great, and the force so strong, that the blast of air made the three recoil from it.
It was a good thing too, for as the hatch unlocked, and now began to swing open on some unseen hinge…something came out from it. Dazzling white light shot into the sky like a pillar of the sun's flame. Hot as the desert was, it was nothing compared to the horrible burning heat that now burst forth from the opening hatch. It nearly blinded the three of them, who desperately shielded their eyes and looked away. They shrank back further as they felt the burning heat come out from the pit, strong enough to flash fry a side of beef. It felt as if they were sitting on the lip of an active volcano. Any closer, and their clothing would singe.
"What the hell…?" Cloud sounded out.
"We can't even get near it!" Ragnar cried out. "It'll blind us if we look at it, or roast us alive if we get within a few feet!"
"Do either of you have any ice materia?" Tumahab called out from his side. "We might be able to freeze it!"
Cloud continued to wince for a moment, shielding himself. However, he suddenly stiffened. "Wait a minute, I do!" He called back. "Tifa wanted to make sure I kept at least one on me… Guess she was right." With that, Cloud began to reach for his belt. Event Horizon had been left up on the edge of the pit they dug, but luckily he had kept this one on his waist. He soon reached a certain point and pushed. A green orb popped out a moment later, and fell into his hand.
Once that was done, Cloud flipped his body around. At the moment, his feet were facing the dazzling hole of light, but he now turned his body so that his head was facing forward instead. It was horrible. He could barely see or breathe in the heat that was blasting him. However, he somehow managed to raise his materia orb and aim it at the hole as best as he could.
"Freezaga!"
Immediately, the light was counteracted by a blast of cool, refreshing wind, so cold that it turned the air around it to mist. Despite the heat, the wind seeped into the hatch from all sides, brushing past the half-baked people who surrounded it, and filled the area within. That was only for a moment, before the cold air suddenly lost even more heat, causing the air itself to freeze, and filling the hole with ice. A great condensation sound ripped through the air as the ice turned hard…and immediately the heat vanished. It was swallowed up into the relatively cooler desert winds. The dazzling light continued to shine, but it dimmed considerably. Soon, everything was well again.
The three continued to lean back, stunned for a moment at what had happened. Cloud himself panted in relief, letting his hand with the materia orb fall. Ragnar leaned back up and wiped at his brow again. Even Tumahab seemed shaken up as he put his glasses back on, for even that much heat was impossible for him to endure.
"What was that?" Ragnar finally announced. "This desert feels like an Icicle Inn springtime compared to that…"
"Let's find out." Cloud answered after panting a moment longer, and then began to creep to the edge of the hole. Ragnar himself held back a moment, but in the end he realized it was pointless. They had come to get into that hatch, after all. There was no turning back now. And so, he too flipped himself forward and began to crawl toward it. Tumahab righted himself and soon did the same, and after a moment more all three were looking over the edge and into the hole in the ground.
The three could see little other than the fact that it was deep. Ice had encrusted most of it, giving it a very jagged and disjointed appearance. However, as best as they could tell, there was a metal ladder going down into the hole, and it went down a considerable depth…at least a hundred feet and probably more. Everything else was hard to make out. It looked too coated with ice…so that all that they could see were reflections and bendings of light aimed all around. For a moment, that puzzled Ragnar…until he began to realize something. They weren't looking at ice alone. They were looking at mirrors. Hundreds…thousands of mirrors lining the cavity going down into the hole. The entire channel was lined with mirrors.
"Look at all of that." Ragnar indicated, gesturing down at what was lining the hole. "What would they need all of those mirrors for?"
"Well, according to the notes…" Cloud answered. "This thing was supposed to be put in light for a thousand years. It sure as heck couldn't get any lightwith this hatch closed…"
"Yes…I see…" Tumahab suddenly remarked. This caused the others to turn to him. He continued to marvel at the hole, however. "This was the main hatch…but there are dozens of other tiny openings leading out all over the desert, or maybe even elsewhere, with lines leading down from them into mirror lined tunnels. Each one would be too small to get through, but they would feed back into this one right here, and use the mirrors to channel light down into the Crystal Stone itself."
Ragnar looked throughout the chamber a bit longer. As he did…he began to notice something. The ice that had just been set was starting to lose its edge. It was becoming clearer. Not only that, but he already started to see dripping around it, running down into the hole. He began to feel heat start to rise from it again, as the light slowly began to increase. After a moment, he wiped his brow. "What a system…" He remarked aloud. "It's already getting hot in there again. It's melting through all of this stuff like no tomorrow."
The three pulled away from it soon after, for it was already getting uncomfortably hot again. Even as they did, they began to see a glow rising from it once more as the mirrors recovered. Soon, they were leaning back again, and looking to each other.
"So now what?" Ragnar asked.
"We'll just have to wait until nightfall, I suppose." Tumahab answered. "It's a death sentence for any of us to go down there now."
However, in response to that, Cloud spoke up. "Not necessarily. That ice spell kept it cold for a good minute or so before it started getting hot again. So long as someone was quick in getting down there and back…"
Tumahab turned to him and frowned. "More young impatience, I see… Getting down there and back up would take over twice as long with those rails covered with ice. And it's an enclosed area. The heat would be even worse down there. Even if you could get out, the skin might be fried off of your body by the power of the light in there."
"Well, we really don't have much time to waste." Ragnar threw in with a shrug. "I mean…we only have three days after today. Speed is kind of a big factor."
"It won't do any of us, any of the people back in Midgar, or Aerith any good for us to kill ourselves here trying to get the Crystal Stone." Tumahab harshly retorted.
"It doesn't have to be all of us either." Cloud answered back. "Only one of us has to go down."
The doctor rolled his eyes and put a hand to his brow. "Suicidal little hu… Was I ever this reckless when I was a boy…?" He murmured to himself.
Ragnar was a bit nervous about disobeying Tumahab, but he was really desperate for time. And he knew that Tumahab liked to play things safe as well, especially where he was concerned. He was willing to take a chance on this to get the stone as quickly as possible. In the end, it turned out that those two would have their way. Tumahab merely frowned disapprovingly as Ragnar and Cloud turned to each other.
"Ok…so who will go down?"
"It's going to have to be me." Cloud answered. "If it does get too hot, you'll cave first."
The youth frowned, but he had to admit Cloud had a point. "…Alright."
Tumahab sighed and groaned. "We don't even have a rope to pull you out in case of trouble."
"Well, getting down shouldn't be that much of a problem." Cloud responded as he stood up. Although it was getting hot in the area again, he wanted to start this on his feet. He still had the ice materia at this point, and he proceeded to toss it to Ragnar. The youth caught it and began to stand as well. Once up, Cloud began to take off his other clothing, starting with his inner shirt and then moving to his boots. "Getting back up will be the real hard part."
Tumahab sat up and stared at Cloud. "You're taking off your clothes?"
"I don't need the extra heat down there." The ex-mercenary simply replied.
The doctor groaned…nearly sounding bestial in doing so. "…So what's going to protect you if the lights come on from being deep fried alive?"
Cloud gave a shrug as he finished pulling off his socks. "Believe me, old man…my skin's been fried by worse stuff than sunlight…"
Tumahab bowed his head and began to growl something under his breath about "cocky, young imbeciles"…
Cloud didn't pay any attention as he yanked off his pants. Now, he was only in his skivvies. By now, the ice was almost gone. The light was becoming blinding again, and the heat coming out of the hole was starting to get unbearable. As Cloud turned back to the hole, he was forced to shield himself to protect his eyes. But on doing that, he turned to Ragnar and gave a nod. "Ready when you are, kid."
Ragnar gave a nod. However, he was looking a bit uneasy himself. He turned his head to Tumahab, only to have the doctor glare at him and shake his head in the negative. The youth winced at that. But in the end, he turned back to the hole. After pausing only a moment longer, he aimed his materia up and pointed it at it. "Freezaga!"
As the doctor groaned and bowed his head, another rush of cold air flooded into the hole. Once more it refreshed all around with a cool breeze, before collecting throughout the channel and then solidifying, coating the chamber with ice. The heat vanished again, and the light once again dimmed. Not wasting a second, Cloud dashed forward and leapt into the hole.
Likehe had said, going down was easy. He didn't bother trying to climb down the hungs of the ice-coated ladder. Instead, once he was over the edge, he grabbed it with both arms, placed his feet against the rails, and then began to slide down the hole. It was rather cold, and soon his hands were beginning to hurt from letting himself touch that much ice. However, it was also fast. The ice was already melting, and so a layer of water was on it, enabling him to slide down better than a fireman's pole. He descended down fifty feet…a hundred feet…a hundred and fifty feet…all within a few moments.
At last, Cloud struck bottom…struck being the key word. Fast as his method had been, it lacked a way of stopping itself. His legs suddenly slammed into ground, and the inertia immediately took him off of the rest of the ladder and threw him against the bottom of the pit. His body landed with a rather hard thud against the ice-covered ground, jarring him painfully. As Cloud landed on his back, he grit his teeth and writhed a moment, letting out a bit of agony from having impacted the bottom so roughly. However, he was accustomed to pain, and he didn't stay that way long. The freezing cold bottom helped him recover quickly as well. Soon, he began to yank himself back up to his feet again, as he felt his exposed flesh starting to burn in the chill. Once he was up, he slipped and slided for a moment. The ground was already covered with wet ice, fast as the chamber was melting. But he managed to get his footing after a moment. With that done, he was stable…and he quickly began to go about his work.
The ex-mercenary soon learned he didn't have to look long. He had barely started to search the chamber when he saw it. Just a bit ahead of him, having narrowly been missed by his own impact, a pedestal rested on the bottom of the chamber. On top of it, set inside a special metal holder, was a pure orb. Even in the midst of all the mirrors and ice…this thing alone shone as truly pure. Not only that…but a white radiance was inside it. It wasn't like the dazzling light from before. It was powerful…but it wasn't harsh. In fact…it was almost pleasant to look at. Just staring at it made Cloud pause. It did something to him…raised his spirits…made him feel pleasant and warm inside…even made him feel a bit at peace…
However, Cloud managed to snap out of it. He couldn't afford to dawdle down here. As he shook his head, he returned to reality, and saw the stone on the pedestal in front of him.He realized this had to be it. It was still covered with ice at the moment, but he couldn't wait for it to thaw. Immediately, he drove his fist forward and smashed it against the stone. The result jarred it from beneath off of its pedestal, and broke the ice to loosen it. He immediately took up the piece of ice that contained the stone, broke off the excess, and then pulled up the orb that was left. Having nowhere else to put it, the ex-mercenary jammed it into his mouth and held it in his teeth. After that, he quickly turned to the ladder to get out of there.
Getting up the ladder was harder than he thought. There was no traction on it…so he had only one choice. He had to curl his hands up into balls to make sure that they couldn't slip off. He did the same with his toes, curling them so that they would hook on the slippery bars. Doing so, he began to climb up the icy ladder. He had to pause a bit, making sure he was secure, before going up. However, despite the strain that it possessed on his already straining body to maintain position, he forced himself to go up two at a time. It was soon painful. The ice burned his skin, and putting weight on it only made it worse. He bit down on the stone to control his pain, and continued to ascend as fast as his strength and the ice would let him.
He was only up about twenty feet before he began to notice the water steadily running off the ladder. It began to run off of the walls as well. Ten feet later, and he began to feel a bit warm, despite the ice that surrounded him. Yet he grit his teeth and kept going, even pushing himself faster. As anyone who ever climbed up a rung ladder in bare feet can tell you, this only made it worse. By the time he reached fifty feet, his body was aching. He forced down the pain and kept pushing, however, determined to keep going. Water began to drip down on his head. It was welcome, because it was getting hot enough to where he began to feel a bit of sweat growing.
At sixty feet, the light was beginning to burn again. He could feel it against his skin, growing in magnitude as he continued to go higher. By seventy feet, it was already making him feel warm. By eighty, it was starting to get a bit painful. The ice that he grabbed on the ladder began to break off beneath him, leaving only the rungs in their wake. That enabled him to loosen up a bit and push harder, but it still was slow going. His brow was already dripping, and he began to feel his hair turn wet as he finally made it to a hundred feet. By then, he was already panting.
Cloud could hear the people calling to him up overhead, with Ragnar yelling at him to keep going. But he felt himself start to slow as he dragged himself up another ten feet. He was growing dizzy. The voices were getting farther away. The last of the ice was turning into water, and what was left was starting to vaporize. A haze was appearing in the chamber, and the humidity seemed to siphon the life out of him. Flicking his head wildly one way, Cloud threw sweat from his eyes and brows and forced himself onward, pushing himself up to a hundred and ten feet. By then, the bars were clear, having only water on them that was evaporating so quickly that it turned to steam before his eyes. The water on his own back was steaming as well, being licked up by the light that was growing around him. Already he had to wince in it. He continued to push higher, but the heat was growing worse. The water was quickly evaporating, and once it was gone into steam the chamber would become hot again in an instant.
Eventually…Cloud could go no more. He was too winded and dizzy. At a hundred and fifty feet…he had to stop to rest.
The heat soared higher and higher. He felt like he was being baked in an oven. He could feel the light around him begin to burn his skin. But he couldn't go anymore. It was too hot. The voices that cried out to him were becoming distant in the horrible light and heat that was surrounding him. Somehow, he forced himself in the end to leap up and keep going… but he couldn't go far. He only managed to stagger up about another ten steps before having to stop again. His throat was already as dry as a sponge. His lips were cracking. He could almost feel some of his skin starting to blister. The voices vanished as the light forced him to close his eyes. His strength vanished…and he began to slip. In another moment…he would lose his grip, and fall back into the burning hell. But he couldn't move anymore. He was too hot…
Suddenly…something struck him. He had no idea how he managed to hold on through it…but ice-cold water suddenly rushed down on him with tidal force. He was ripped off of his feet and yanked down painfully. Yet the water splashing into his face somehow woke him up again as it smothered him in its coolness. Because of that, he gained the strength and awareness to grab onto the rung, and hold on. It was still agonizing. He felt like his arms were going to be ripped out of their sockets. He felt his hair nearly being ripped out of his scalp. He was smothered as the wall of water continued to splash down on him.
Then, just as fast as it had come, it was gone. The water vanished, the last of it splashing down into the bottom of the pit. Immediately, the top layer began to evaporate. Cloud, soaked all over with the cold water, spat and cleared his mouth. He gasped in a bit of air. It was still burning and hot all around him, and the light was still frying him. However…the water had refreshed him. He felt his strength restored. Quickly, he began to climb again, using the reprieve from death to gain as much ground as he could.
It only took about twenty feet for the light to evaporate the water again, once again drying him out. It next moved to siphoning the water out of his body again. By that point, the heat had made him dizzy again, and he once more felt himself weakening. However, he pushed himself on. The light soon began to burn his skin once more, and the heat made him waver as he reached a hundred and ninety feet. He was starting to pass out again. Yet somehow…he staggered up a few more steps. The light blinded him completely now, and he was unable to see a thing. His steps grew slower, and he began to pant and wheeze once more. Then…his hand suddenly missed a rung. But it was too late. He was out of power. His jaw began to slacken, and in another moment he would have lost the stone before plunging back down the tunnel himself…
Just as he became totally dead weight, a hand reached down and seized him. Cloud was passing out at that point, but if he could see he would see that a sweating, baking Ragnar had grabbed his hand just in time. Behind him, Tumahab had lowered him down the final critical five feet by his ankles. And now that he had him, he immediately yanked back. He didn't care how painful it was on Ragnar or Cloud, because the heat was already making both him and Ragnar pass out as well. Instead, he let his Herculean effort rip both the younger and the older out of the hole. He kept yanking back afterward, and as they passed over the top he quickly dragged them back and away from the deathtrap. Once Cloud was safely over the edge and a distance from it, Tumahab let go of Ragnar and staggered forward, panting, sweating, and shielding himself as he went back to the hatch. Once there, he quickly pushed it forward and slammed it shut once again. Immediately, the light and heat were cut off again, and there was relief for all three of them.
Tumahab collapsed to the ground and began to pant. He was winded and sweaty just from that. However, he had enough strength to once again reach into his coat, and pull out a red materia a moment later. As Ragnar and Cloud panted against the ground, the man held the orb over his head and called on the spirit within. A moment later, an explosion of mist came from the orb, and with it brought a massive sea serpant, just as it had a minute ago when Tumahab used it as a desperate maneuver to give Cloud the stamina he needed to reach the top. At any rate, the great beast only hesitated long enough to raise its whiskers and then emit a giant cry, before it generated a gigantic tsunami behind it and proceeded to smash it down on the three in the vicinity.
All three soon winced and groaned in pain, their air cut off as water slammed into them. The force was painful and brutal, with enough force to break bones in lesser people. They were all flung forward from the force of the water. However…it was also cool and comfortable. It eased away their own dehydration and heatstroke even as it threatened to drown them all. After a moment, it passed. The three, coughing, hacking, and choking, writhed on the now muddy sand, struggling to get their breath from that as well as recover from the lethal heat. They moaned and sat there for a few minutes, getting their bearings back.
Ragnar finally opened his eyes weakly, staring over at Cloud nearby. The ex-mercenary was still panting. He looked rather terrible. His skin was red, and his shoulders were burned and blistered. He slowly exhaled, spitting out the stone in his wake. Ragnar looked to it…and saw its purity with the light inside. Immediately, he knew what it had to be. However, he looked back up to Cloud soon after, and slowly smiled as he panted breathlessly.
"Maybe…Tumahab…was right…about waiting…until dark…"
Cloud cracked his own eyes open and stared at him.
"Say that…again…and I'll throw…it back…and make you…go after it…"
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Early in this chapter, Cloud used the expression of not "wanting to open a Mist package before arrival". Basically, this is the same as the old expression "look a gift horse in the mouth". However, that expression had its roots in The Odyssey, something that doesn't exist in the Final Fantasy universe. So instead, I used something from Final Fantasy IV. For those of you who aren't familiar with that game, Cecil and Kain were ordered to deliver a package to the village of Mist, not knowing what was inside. When they arrived, the package immediately burst open and sent out a flurry of Bomb creatures that burned the village to the ground.
Ok, so in the original FFIV, it was a Bomb Ring, not a package. I'm not getting caught up in details.