Zola's own body lit up as he arched backward. His own glow shone forth in the midst of the cylinders, and his own cry mingled with that of the humming. Electricity shot through him, threatening to throw him off as it did Cloud. It roasted his flesh and bone alike as he felt it course through him. The current threatened to rip his body apart. And yet…his weapon stayed plunged deep into the machine. It wouldn't move, no matter the pain and agony…
The console sputtered and sizzled. More buttons and switches exploded, and screens cracked and burned, as the latest error caused a misdirection of power that nearly blew it out. The status screen flashed a massive "system error" message before winking out and turning into garbeled text. And as it did…the bolts stopped forming on the Jenova tube. The cylinder flickered once before the top of it popped, and out came debris and smoke. The light died within it and shot down as the humming made a sort of zooming noise, telegraphing that the transfer had been made. And still, Zola was electrified throughout this. At long last, he could hold no more, and his body was finally flung off of his blade and across the room, to once again smash against the ground, slide, and come to a rest against the mesh basin. His sword melted in his wake, lighting up into flame first but then beginning to twist and deform.
At long last, it ended. The glows died down. The humming ceased. The engines and devices in the machine began to sputter and slow down once again. The industrial lights slowly flickered back on. Slowly and surely, everything returned to normal. Many of the devices continued to snap electricity out, and several places were on fire besides the fallen body of the mutant, but at length everything finally turned back.
Ragnar was the only one left on his feet now. His eyes had been stabbed by the blinding light, which only served to aggravate his pain, but slowly he cracked them open again. As he blinked, the spots before his vision slowly began to fade once again. He looked around him. The creatures were now the ones who were writhing, beginning to put their limbs underneath them again. Cloud himself gave a cough, and spun himself over onto his ventral side. He was beginning to slowly push up. Vincent, perched against the main cylinder, was also at last rising. He showed no pain or discomfort…but merely reached his flesh and blood arm up to the back of his head and began to feel. Aerith, still in her cylinder, also looked to be straightening up again.
But on seeing her there, Ragnar quickly looked to the other cylinders. The one that had Jenova's material in it still had it in there. The connection had to have been broken just in time. However, on looking up to Krystea's…he saw that the tube was empty. Of course. That one had still been connected. He turned to the central cylinder…and saw that it was filled with smoke. He couldn't see a thing within it. However…a fear went through his heart. He began to stumble forward to it, moving as best as he could. Had they been too late? What had become of her?
As he asked himself these questions…the front of the cylinder finally disengaged. Both it as well as the one Krystea had been in. Evidently, it was supposed to automatically open once finished. Aerith's, unfortunately, stayed closed due to lack of power. However, the doors slowly pushed out in front of the cylinders, and then slowly slid to one side on some sort of unseen railing. The smoke began to drift out of the central cylinder. Ragnar stopped in the middle of walking to it. He looked ahead to the opening…and what might be inside. Aerith anxiously stared in from her cylinder. Cloud, slowly coming to, turned and looked in as well. Finally, Vincent grunted once, and then turned his head behind him, to the smoke now blowing over his head.
There was a moment of silence, during which Ragnar swallowed and anxiously looked within.
But then…something finally emerged.
Coughing, but otherwise looking unharmed, Krystea stumbled out of the center of the cylinder and fell on the ground before it.
A wave of relief went through Ragnar. Aerith, on her part, cupped her hand to her mouth and smiled. She was alright. She didn't look the slightest bit affected. The machine must have compensated after the last cylinder was cut, and ended up simply teleporting the last individual. Krystea was still nude, but other than that seemed fine. After stumbling out of the cylinder on all fours, she coughed to clear her lungs, but then turned and looked over to who she was on. At the same time, Vincent recovered enough to turn to her, and see her stumble out on top of him.
The two held a moment…before Krystea smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. She immediately embraced the man.
"…I knew you'd come, big brother."
Ragnar heard this, and that confirmed it. She didn't know the truth. But suppose Vincent did? What would happen now then? He watched them as Krystea rested her head against Vincent and continued to hug him. His own face was stoic, and he didn't move or show any expression.
Then, at last, a bit to Ragnar's surprise…he actually saw Vincent raise his mortal arm and place it around her. The youth was stunned.
Was he actually…returning the embrace?
"…It's all over, Krystea." Vincent slowly said…and to Ragnar, it almost sounded…reassuring.
"Krystea!"
Ragnar turned his head to the sound of the voice, as did Cloud as he finally recovered his bearings. He was almost to his feet by now. The creatures, on their part, were still getting up. The little one was helping the big man/bear get to his feet, while the others were slowly stumbling up as well. His attention, however, was centered on the door the creatures had used earlier. He almost felt like frowning at the sight. It had taken them long enough to get here…
Reno and Rude were standing in the open doorway. Rude was stoic as always, surveying the area for trouble. Reno was looking like his normal cocky, confident self as he looked around. Elena had broken off and was running down the catwalk to her fellow Turk. Once Reno was done, he crossed his arms and gave a nod.
"Seems we got here a bit too late…but no harm done." He casually spoke, before beginning to walk down the catwalk into the area. He turned his head around a bit more at this point, getting a better look at the situation. His eyes rested on the smoldering, burning body of the mutant, as well as the other roasted bodies and rubble of the Chimera. "Looks like someone messed around with his chemistry set one too many times, though…"
No one answered this. Rude began to follow Reno, and Elena was almost to Krystea at this point. Ragnar turned to Cloud. The ex-mercenary finished pulling himself to his feet, and then looked around and back to the device. He seemed to quickly realize it was over, but that Aerith was still trapped. Immediately, he broke off and began to run to her as fast as his sore body would let him, to break open the machine and get her out. Ragnar himself was about to run after him…when he suddenly remembered.
Where's Zola?
The youth immediately turned, and began to look over the debris and bodies on the ground instead.
While he did this, Elena reached Krystea. The woman let Vincent go at this point, and turned to her friend instead. She greeted her with a smile, which was immediately returned. Elena began to remove her suit coat soon after, so that Krystea could cover up her womanhood. As for Cloud, he picked up speed until he reached the side of the cylinder. Once there, he quickly reared back with his sword and began to swing at it again. He had the same effect as last time, but he didn't stop despite how sore and beaten he was.
Ragnar's eyes continued to dart over the landscape…and finally rested on something. On the other side of the creatures, who were getting on their feet, he saw that some smoke was still rising from a much smaller source. Their bodies and the shape of the floor hid some of him…but he managed to see a burnt appendage loosely hanging out on the ground.
It wasn't moving.
Immediately, the youth began to make his way over.
Rude and Reno soon arrived behind Elena as Krystea spread the back of the jacket over her front and tried to put her middle beneath it. She stayed seated for the moment. Now that the danger was over, she was beginning to blush in embarrassment. Reno reached her side and dropped down next to her as Elena did. Vincent, on his part, began to rise to distance himself from this situation, not caring much for the rest of the Turks.
Reno cracked a smile. "And what exactly did we interrupt before breaking in on the show?" The Turk chided. "You know, I thought he was supposed to be your brother, which makes you-"
"I still have more than enough strength to slap, Reno. So I wouldn't finish that." Krystea answered with a dark look.
As for Rude, he walked over to where Cloud was still frantically swinging away at the cylinder. He was leaving a few dents, but not much else. As the big man arrived, he slowly put himself in between the cylinder and Cloud, and turned to him and held up his hand as the ex-mercenary reared back to swing again. On seeing this, the general halted. Rude next turned back to the cylinder and reached for his pocket. He emerged with a palm-sized device a moment later, and placed it against the side of the glass. He switched it on, and a small humming emitted. After a moment, he pulled it off again. He next reached up a hand and lightly tapped the side with his knuckle.
It instantly shattered, opening a giant hole practically man sized in the side of the cylinder. Aerith cried out, audible at last, and shrank back in the process.
Cloud himself let his sword fall to his side, and looked up in some confusion. He turned to Rude for an explanation. The big man thumbed it a moment later.
"Molecularly aligned to stay rigid." He explained.
Reno noticed this, and turned his head up to Cloud as well. "Yeah. But as Rude demonstrated, disrupt the current, and it becomes as fragile as a teacup in a bullpen."
Cloud looked to Reno a moment, but then turned back to the cylinder. Immediately, he reached in and held out his arms to Aerith. The Cetra relaxed a bit, and then reached out and grabbed on. Cloud held her securely, and then lifted her out and through the hole, over the glass. Once she was finally free of the cylinder, the woman immediately sighed in relief and embraced the ex-mercenary. Cloud too exhaled, and hugged her back.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"I'm fine." She quickly responded. "But what about Krystea? Or Ragnar? Or…" Suddenly, her own memory kicked in, and she suddenly pulled away from Cloud and looked in fear to where she had last seen him. "Zola!"
On hearing this name, Krystea immediately snapped out of greeting her friends and looking up. She hadn't seen much in the tube…but she had seen Zola coming toward her. She realized that he had to be the one who severed the connection. He had saved her life. She barely even knew him…but he had rescued her from that terrible fate. Immediately, she began to look back and around the chamber. She started to get to her feet as she did so, to get a better look. Vincent himself, now standing, turned and began to gaze coldly around the chamber. Was he actually…concerned? The other Turks and Cloud quickly began to follow suit.
Soon, they found him.
Almost next to the creatures, who were rising and beginning to check on each other, Ragnar was bent down over one of the bodies. They couldn't see much from here. They saw a pair of charred legs, burned almost beyond recognition, but the rest of it was obscured by Ragnar's body. Immediately, the others began to walk toward him. Aerith, Krystea, and Vincent took the lead. Within a few moments, they were at Ragnar's side, and as they arrived they looked down and saw Zola's body.
Apparently…he was losing his ability to maintain human form, because he had reverted into his basilisk body. And yet his flesh had been burned when he was still in human form. His body was covered with both injuries as well as horrible, black third-degree burns. Wherever his flesh had been burned was frozen in human form, for it had been charred in that position. His legs were roasted from where he had been grounded. By now, both of his feet had to be dead. His arms likewise were burned and nearly crumbled into balls of dead flesh. Much of the rest of his body was covered with sizzling, smoldering skin. Half of his face was covered with burns, including a portion of his hair and scalp that had been roasted. The other half was twisted into his basilisk half, as was whatever of his body hadn't been burned. He was barely moving. What parts of him were moving were doing so very slowly, and with jerked movements…the signs of someone in incredible pain.
The four creatures, now recovered, turned their heads to him along with the others that had come upon his fallen body. They said nothing and drew no closer, but they watched. Ragnar was closest, bent down over him. He didn't dare touch him, not wanting him to be in further pain. One of the creature's eyes was burned and white, but the reptilian eye still existed. It slowly turned in its socket and looked to Ragnar.
"Oh my god…was he an experiment too?" Elena couldn't help but remark.
"No…he could transform like my brother." Krystea answered. "He turned into a big lizard and tackled that monster that Hoeng built… He somehow turned it into stone. Then he cut the cable connecting one of the cylinders to the center. He stopped me from being fused."
Elena turned to Krystea in shock at that. "Fused? What the-"
"General…"
Everyone went silent at that, and turned back to Ragnar and the fallen basilisk. Ragnar himself leaned in closer over his face. The smell of his roasted flesh filled his nostrils. It was horrible. He didn't see how the basilisk still lived. The creature turned its head to Ragnar as best as it could, though it drove it in more pain to do so. It swallowed to moisten its dry throat…which only hurt it further. Inside and outside alike had been terribly burned by the electricity.
"I…I can't see…well… Or…taste…well…" The creature rasped in a dry voice. "Are…the girls…alright?"
Ragnar's face stayed straight for the moment, and he gave a nod to him. "Yes. Yes, they're both fine. Don't talk. You're badly hurt."
Zola stiffened a moment, but then managed a head shake. Somehow, his twisted mouth managed to smile. "Oh…it's too late…" He spoke in what was a parody of a reassuring voice. "Regeneration…completely drained… Strength ebbing… I'm too…full of injuries… It already gave up…trying to heal me…"
The youth's face went from straight to fear. He knew what this meant, and realized the truth of what was happening to Zola. However…he didn't know what to say. Denial at this point would mean nothing. He could see it all over the creature. Nothing could survive injuries this terrible. He had tried to until now, knowing how powerful that Zola was…but now he saw that this was folly. The creature knew it…and it was all over his face. He had seen the same look of relief over the faces of mortally wounded men when they had finished repelling a successful attack, or they had heard that they had won a battle, or had a chance to say goodbye to a loved one before the end…
The basilisk was dying.
"You…"
Ragnar didn't look away from Zola, although the basilisk slowly looked up to this voice. But he recognized who it was. It was Krystea, up and behind him.
"You saved me… You didn't even know me…but you saved my life. You knew this was going to happen to you…but you did it anyway. Why?"
Zola coughed once, and winced in response to the pain it brought. But in the end, he managed to smile a bit wider. "Hey…" He croaked. "What…what's a hero for, anyway? Besides…I know…it's what the general…would have done… But I…was the only one who could live long enough…to pull it off… I was…just doing…my duty as his soldier…"
Ragnar's eyes widened. Immediately, he shook his head. "I never would have ordered you to kill yourself…"
"Of course…you wouldn't." Zola answered with a grin as he looked back to him. "You…you always have…to be the one who…who makes the sacrifices… Like when you were the decoy in Icicle Inn… Or when you went back…to fight the New Shinra…single-handedly…" The creature was starting to pant, and swallowed again. "I've…lived…for hundreds of years… It should have been…me… I wanted to…go out with a bang…anyway… Just like…my ancestors…"
"Zola…" Ragnar began to say.
"You…you know something, Ragnar…?" The creature cut off, still talking. "I…I spent…centuries…just hurting humans… And I spent…years after…distrusting them… But…you… Somehow, I felt…I could trust you… Somehow…I thought you were on my side… You…some small little human…who…risked his life trying to save…all those miners… You made me…try to find things inside me…I didn't know I had… You made me…want to be…a better person… I think…I never really understood…what Bahamut was about…until I saw you… I didn't believe…any of you…were worth saving until I met you…
"Somehow…I don't regret…going out like this. I feel…almost…honored…to die in your service. I know…you won't…forget us or what we were… You'll…try to make this world better… My only real regret…is…is that…I couldn't…do more for you before…this moment..." The creature paused a moment, gulping in a deep breath, and then forcing himself to keep talking.
"I wish…I could have…have been a better soldier… Out of…all the moments…I wish I could take back…through my whole life…the biggest one is…betraying you…"
The others were silent. Most of them understood none of this…but Ragnar understood it all, knowing the full world where Zola came from. He swallowed and stared on at the creature. He was shaking more, and breathing harder. His time was running out. In the end…Ragnar slowly reached down and took one of the ancient creature's hands. The other hand of the creature immediately came over and clamped down on both…and Ragnar answered by putting his hand on top of that one. It was rough and hot to the touch, but he didn't care. He held tight, and looked down into the eyes of the creature.
"Zola…you've been one of the most valiant, bravest men I ever met." Ragnar spoke. "You betrayed the deadliest creature this world has ever known to do what you knew was right. You turned your back on your own sister for me. You knew you could be left behind and that no one would understand it, but you fought to save us all when we fled the Northern Continent. You gave everything you had in every battle, and more yet. You went above and beyond your call of duty time and time again. If you struggled to redeem yourself so much in the next three hundred years as you have in the past nine months, this world would have been infinitely more happy.
"You've been a trusted soldier…ally…and friend. I know you've made your ancestors proud, and that they will welcome you not with scorn but with cheers. Your valor will put many of the best of us to shame. Don't feel like you have anything left to prove to me. You have my total forgiveness…and my admiration and pride. Please be at peace with them. As long as I live…your name will be spoken among the human race as that of a hero. I swear it."
Zola smiled once more at this, his widest one yet. Weak as his eyes were, they looked up, and seemed to beam and shine with a look of pride and honor. Despite his pain and misery…the creature had never looked so content and proud. As he still looked up, he drew in one more deep breath, and spoke again.
"Thank you…Ragnar… Thank you…for helping me…be more than what I was… Thank you…for letting me…die with honor…"
The creature gave one more powerful squeeze to Ragnar's hand, and held there in that firm grasp. Ragnar's own eyes closed, as he felt the grip of this powerful ancient creature, and relished the feeling.
Then…it loosened, and Zola breathed his last.
Slowly, Ragnar opened his eyes again. The others looked on at him. Reno, Rude, and Elena stared on at him. But as for Krystea, she bowed her head, still seeming confused, and showed him reverence none the less. Cloud bowed his own head out of respect. He still bore some anger inside him…but he determined to let it go now. He wanted to show this creature what he was due. Aerith herself bowed her head and shed a few tears for him. Though she hadn't known him well, he had saved her sister, and had saved them all by his sacrifice. And Vincent…
No one looked to him as he did this, and so no one saw it. But for a brief moment, the stoic, cold man actually closed his eyes and slowly let out an exhale, which was more emotion than he had shown for anyone's death, save Aerith's, in over thirty years.
Ragnar was left. He was still holding onto his hands. But slowly, he began to fold them over his chest again. He placed them on top of each other, and let them rest on one another across his torso. After that, he looked up to his face. It was still in that last look of pride and joy. Slowly…he reached up and rested his hand against his face, and slowly pushed his eyelids down. He bowed his own head down over him, and let his own forehead rest on Zola's gently.
In Cetra, Ragnar whispered something to him.
"Be at peace."
Ragnar held there for a moment of silence, but then he slowly pulled his body back again, and off from him. He kept his eyes on his fallen form, but then moved back onto his feet and slowly pulled himself up. The others gradually looked off of Zola and back to him. The General came to a stand, and looked down over the dead body for a few more moments. But in the end, he inhaled deeply, looked up and off of him, and out to the distance. He breathed a few times to steady himself, but then finally turned and looked back to the others.
They were all in a group now, gathered around and staring at him. It was something of an awkward moment. However, after a short while, Ragnar began to snap out of it. He looked around, and then noticed that Aerith was still naked. Seeing this, he grimaced uneasily, and then reached for his cape. He quickly took it off, and then handed it over to her. As he did, he looked away and began to blush a little himself.
"Um…here."
The Cetra hesitated, but then blushed as well, and took it from his hand, immediately pulling it around her own body.
"Er…thanks."
However, as Ragnar looked away, his eyes also rested on something else. The creatures were there, and they were all standing next to them. They had watched this exchange…but now that it was over, he saw that their faces were downcast and grim. They looked to the ground now, not at Zola's dead body…but just as a stoic object and stared blankly. Their eyes were filled with darkness, and their faces cold and joyless. Ragnar looked at them only a moment before he realized what had to be the truth. Hoeng had double crossed them in the end.
Once Aerith was covered, he turned fully to them. Soon after, the others began to turn as well. Although Cloud, Vincent, and Ragnar were hesitant, Reno immediately began to reach for his nightstick, and Elena went for her gun. However…they too only looked on a moment before they realized that they weren't going to fight. When that happened, they slowly released their weapons. The creatures stayed silent, not reacting to the group that stared at them.
Ragnar looked over them, and looked down to the ground. There, dead and burned, were their friends. He remembered back to his conversation with Horus. These people had lost everything. And now they would never be human again. Killing them or arresting them would be nothing compared to what they were already faced with. And he knew now they would not try and hurt them again. In the end, he looked up to them, and slowly exhaled.
"…I think there's been enough killing today." He addressed.
However, on hearing this, Scion suddenly looked up to Ragnar.
"…Not quite."
The creature immediately turned and began to walk across the room. Reno and Rude reacted, but Ragnar did not. He stared at him and waited to see what he was doing. Horus, Malcolm, and his little brother looked up as well. They watched him as he made his way across the floor, and over to Hoeng's burning body. Also burning and a bit ahead of it was his severed limb. And near that was the finger that had come off, along with one of Hoeng's claws.
Horus understood before Ragnar. Suddenly, she called out, her voice pleading and growing intense. "Scion, no! Don't do it!"
It was too late. Scion reached down and snatched the claw off the ground. "…I'm a failure as a navigator…and a failure as a man." He said as he straightened up again, his voice quiet yet steadfast. "And I'm going to die a monster. But at least I'll never create one of those things again. I meant what I said. If I can't live as a human…"
Keeping his back to the others so they wouldn't see this, Scion put both hands on the knife-like claw, brought it to his own neck, and slashed it across.
Aerith gasped and turned her face away. Ragnar felt himself let out a cry of shock. Malcolm cut himself off in the middle of being about to cry out to him, but then turned and instead covered the eyes of his little brother, turning him away. Horus cupped the ends of her wings to her mouth, and as she shut her eyes tears began to flow out from them. Scion himself let out a scream of yellow blood for a moment before he collapsed to the floor to join seventeen of his friends. The room went deathly silent.
For a few moments, Ragnar was only able to look down. Poor miserable creature. Why did he have to kill himself? Then again, he hated the thought of suicide…but what would he do if he was in his situation? Horus, Malcolm, and his little brother stayed quiet, turning away from the sight and both crying now. One of their last friends was gone. They were the only ones left. Slowly, Ragnar looked back up and over to the three of them. He couldn't say anything to them, for he didn't know what, if anything there was to say that would help. The two adults cried a bit longer, but at last Malcolm released his brother's eyes and looked up.
"…I might have done the same." He finally remarked, his eyes to the ground. "…But I have a little brother to look out for. He deserves to decide for himself how he'll live."
Horus inhaled deeply, and slowly removed her own wings. She became stoic again herself.
Ragnar looked at them a moment longer. "…You three…" He finally began to say. "…You can…"
"Don't patronize us." Horus retorted. "There is no more place for us among mankind. We aren't human anymore. We're animals. We'll die animals."
"Maybe…" Ragnar responded, trying to sound hopeful. "Maybe…the machine can be fixed. Maybe one day-"
"I'd rather see it burn and lie in disrepair rather than see it fixed and produce any more of us." Malcolm half-sneered. "It took everything I had from me except my brother and my last friend."
"I don't know what Malcolm and his brother plan." Horus went on. "But as for me…I'm going to the wild. I'm going to try very hard to forget that I was ever a woman in the first place…and accept myself as what I am."
Ragnar's eyes widened a bit at that. "That's crazy! What good will that do?"
"Probably more good than wasting away on the hope that I will ever again be human." Horus darkly replied. "Too many have already died chasing that false vision. I must make a new life for myself." She paused here, and then looked up and slowly exhaled. She stared beyond Ragnar and his friends and looked out beyond to some other vision.
"…At least I was able to see him burn." She remarked.
That was the last word Ragnar ever heard from her, and the last he ever saw of Horus before she turned and took off into the air. In a flash, she flew across the room and toward the open doorway, moving through it and out into the world. As for Malcolm, he held a bit longer, looking after her and out to where she went. In the end, he turned his own sad head back toward the others. He gazed at them…depressed, hopeless, and grim…before he finally turned back to his brother. He lifted him up in one arm, and then immediately lumbered after Horus. He was fast, like a bear, and soon he was going up the catwalk and vanishing through the open doorway as well.
The others were left staring after them silently. No one was sure of what to say. Aerith, her own face looking hurt and pitying, turned to Cloud and Ragnar. "…Isn't there anything we can do for them?"
"Unfortunately…they were right." Cloud darkly answered, staring after them. "We could only make them hide…make them remember for the rest of their lives just how inhuman they are now. Looks like Hojo was able to ruin twenty-one more lives before he died."
Ragnar was somewhat more optimistic, but not much. "Maybe if they get over their grief…accept what happened to them, like they said…we might be able to. But for now…there's nothing we can do. Horus was unfortunately right about one thing…they have to accept what they are."
---
Thirty minutes later, and things were calming down somewhat. Shortly after the creatures left, the group had heard a ringing on the floor. They found that it was coming from Zola's torn clothing. On checking it, they found a radio. There was a message on it from a PPA division. They were making their way into the facility. Apparently, Zola had tipped them off before entering. Only a few minutes afterward, they broke in on the room.
After that, a lot had happened. The bodies were covered up for the most part. But in the case of the mutant, Ragnar had the soldiers build a fire and incinerate what was left of the monster that had been Hoeng. Stories were swapped, and eventually the whole truth came out. Well...not the whole truth. Cloud and Ragnar neglected to mention certain details about who Krystea really was for now. Vincent informed them all that Hoeng had in fact been Hojo fused with another person to extend his human life, although he said that he never revealed who. Cloud thought it was typical. There was only one madman crazy enough to do these things. Elena was genuinely surprised that Zola had killed himself to save Krystea. The other two Turks showed little…and Ragnar saw little of them. Whenever he looked away, however…he failed to notice that Rude and Reno were taking occasional pictures of the area using miniature cameras in what looked like pens, including the regions inside the tears in metal that Cloud, Ragnar, and Zola had made, and of the console. One of the screens eventually came back online, but it only flashed "system error" repeatedly.
Despite the summer heat, some of the incoming soldiers had brought tan uniform jackets that had flak protection. They gave two each to Krystea and Aerith. The first was worn around the torso, while the second was tied around their waists like some sort of toga. With his cape freed up, Ragnar spread it over Zola's dead body. The soldiers were able to rig up a stretcher from some of the junk in the room, and they used it to put his body on to carry him out. Luckily…most of them didn't get a good look at his body. It was known among the army that Zola had…unusual powers. However, not everyone knew it well, and there was no need to cause alarm.
As they were finishing cleaning up, Ragnar found himself walking over to Aerith. She was standing at the edge of one of the catwalks, nervously looking around. She seemed eager to get out of there. In truth, they all were. This was some sort of nightmarish hell that they had all been sucked into over the past few hours. Cloud was off directing some of the soldiers to leave the device untouched, and to come back tomorrow to look for more evidence of habitation or notes. As he came in next to her, he began to feel his sickness returning, and the exhaustion and pain he had was leaking through his field dressings and making him very tired.
When the youth grew near, the Cetra turned and looked up him. She showed a bit of surprise at his sudden arrival. "Ragnar, I…"
"Aerith…before anything else happens…" He immediately started. "I need to say this to you. I really, really apologize for what I said to you in my office."
The Cetra blinked and looked surprised. It was not in her nature to hold a grudge, and she had almost forgotten about the event entirely in light of what had happened. However, Ragnar bowed his head and continued to go on.
"You were right. I'm on my last legs. I would have passed out at the battlefield if you hadn't put me to sleep. They didn't need me that badly, and I needed to rest. I was working myself too hard and I was burning myself out. I wouldn't have been here tonight if it hadn't been for you. I owe you a big apology."
Aerith paused after hearing this, taking all of it in. In the end, however, she seemed to become a bit playful. She formed a somewhat mischevious smile on her face, and walked in toward Ragnar while folding her hands behind her. She continued to flash that smile at him until she was right next to him. At that point, she bent down and looked up into his eyes, just as she used to do with Cloud and his group.
"Well…" She slowly said, as if considering whether or not to accept his apology. "I guess I can forgive you. But on one condition."
Ragnar was naturally nervous around Aerith, and so couldn't get that she was teasing him, but was being serious. He blinked a moment, but then gave a shrug. "Um…what?"
"After you've gotten back…cleaned yourself up…and had a good night's sleep…" Aerith slowly answered, still smiling at him the whole time. "…We go on a date."
Ragnar's face turned as white as a sheet before turning as red as a tomato.
"Uh…um…a date?"
Aerith seemed to love the fact that Ragnar was blushing, and giggled a bit at it. "Yes. You know? A guy and a girl together? After all, you were the one who saved me tonight, my guardian…"
Ragnar swallowed, and began to feel himself sweat. He never imagined after all he had been through that he could be so nervous. His body was turning clammy and cold, and he forgot all about his headache and soreness.
"Er…um…uh…" He felt himself babbling in his vain attempt to make a word.
Aerith's smile faded, and she raised her eyebrows in mock puzzlement. "Is that a no?"
"Uh, no!" Ragnar nearly felt himself blurt out. "It's…um…just…er…"
Aerith smiled again. "Great!" She responded. "1800 the night after tonight. See you then!"
With that, the Cetra turned and began to walk away, keeping her hands folded behind her and suddenly seeming much younger and more carefree. Ragnar was left staring at her, still a deep red, and still trying to speak again although Aerith was already gone. He continued to babble for a moment before he realized the time had passed.
When that happened, Ragnar let out a tremendous sigh and nearly slumped where he stood.
What a day…
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The last soldier to leave took one last look in the room for movement, but saw nothing. After that, he turned and quickly caught up with the rest of his division. He had to escort the generals and the Turks back up, and he was eager to get out of here like the rest of them. The place was filled with a horrible smell and was freaking him out. He was soon gone, and the sound of him and the rest of the division marching down the hallway slowly began to fade from the area. A few trace sounds traveled down the hall, through the doorway, and back into the large chamber, but those began to fade as well. Soon, silence was the only thing there.
Well, silence save for the crackling of a few last smoldering parts in the room, and the hissing of the machines. Most of the popping and snapping in the central machine had ceased. It had burned the last of itself out and was finished. However, the screen on the console was still flashing its "system error" message, and as the console continued to spark and smoke, sending out black gasses and flickering as it struggled to maintain power, the view blinked a few times but stayed active as it had ever since it had come back on. However, the machine was quickly burning out. It wasn't going to last much longer. The last few circuits were almost burned through, and then it would be dead.
Yet moments before doing so, the system error screen finally disappeared. The machine was broken and failing, but it had finally managed to complete the in-system diagnostic for the non-existent operators who might be watching. Unfortunately, no one was around to see it when it displayed.
CRITICAL SYSTEM ERROR
CYLINDER B TAKEN OFFLINE DURING TRANSFER
RESULTS NOT IDENTICAL TO PROTOCOL
ACTUAL EXPERIMENT DETAILS:
REAGENTS
Cylinder B: Subject B – 1.00
Cylinder C: Subject C – 1.00
RESULTS
Cylinder D: Subject BC – 1.00
- Subject B – 0.9999999
- Subject C – 0.0000001
A pop of the console later, and the power gave out…and this message was lost forever.
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To be continued...
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AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT...
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Hi everyone. It's the author of the cliffhanger you just read above you. I'm sorry to say that I didn't learn my lesson after "The Call of Cutethulhu", and now I'm trying my hand at comedy again. Located below are two fake "movie reviews". Normally I would have tried to post this in their appropriate section of fanfiction dot net, but again regulations state that I can only post stories, not reviews or essays or what not. So I figured I'd just tag it on to one of my chapter postings. So :P, system. If you just came here for the story, it'd probably be good to go off now and await the next chapter. But if you'd like to give it a whirl, read on. Then you can tell me whether you thought it was funny, or whether ol' Piccolo Sky should just try to relax next time he feels the crazy urge to do something stupid.
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Recently, TokyoPop decided to do their own rendition of "I Love the '80s" by reawakening the ghosts of two cult classics, "The Dark Crystal" and "Labyrinth". "The Dark Crystal" is getting a manga prequel, while "Labyrinth" is getting a manga sequel.
Ah, the '80s. A time of roller skates, Reaganomics, and Punky Brewster. A time when the AIDS epidemic took off and, perhaps more tragically, Lorne Michaels left the SNL crew to leave us with "Saturday Night Torture". Believe it or not, children, this is a time when Michael Jackson was loved by millions of Americans! A time when we were able to throw our concerns about the ozone layer and global warming to the wind!
However…not all people admired this change. The '80s marked a severe crack down on the nation's over-indulgence of vices such as drugs, free love, and Volkswagon beetles. Millions of previous stoners were left in a new dry and healthful era without so much as a toad to lick. Instead of campfires and road trips, the new generation was expected to drink coffee, work in skyscrapers, curse at their cumbersome Apple IIs, and rely on Namco for their stimulation. Goodbye smoking your troubles away…hello typist courses and competing hair styles.
Fortunately, for all of the refugee stoners of the '70s, there was a man! A great man! A mysterious man! A man named…Jim Henson! Enter the world of Jim Henson, populated entirely by thousands of puppets who walk like men! Each one more absurd than the last! Pigs talk! Frogs walk! Dogs sing! Total raving madness, all from the comfort of your own television set without the need of an opiate! Amazing!
It was during this time that Mr. Henson created not one, but two hallmarks of the '80s, "The Dark Crystal" and "Labyrinth". These movies were destined to become cult classics. And what is a "cult classic" you might ask? Why, it's a movie that did pitiful in theaters and was hated by critics…and yet certain circles of nerds love anyway! In the wake of TokyoPop's revisit to the '80s, I bring to those of you who have never yet seen or heard of these hallmarks the following movie reviews. Come! See! And be amazed!
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"The Dark Crystal" (1982)
Years before Liv Tyler would don a pair of prosthetic ears, there was a movie that taught the perverts of tomorrow to love the elves of today…
There is a great story about the conception and path to reality of the enchanting fantasy that is called "The Dark Crystal"… A story of a young boy's dreams… The warmth of childhood… The epic eternal war against good and evil… Finding true strength in yourself… And one man's long and hard journey to bring these visions to light…
…That story is probably presented in great detail on the DVD, so here's a completely different and historically unfounded version of how it came to be.
A man wanted to make a fantasy movie! But…what kind of fantasy movie would he make? How could he ensure that it would be loved and cherished by millions? Then he got an idea! He compiled a list of all of the cool things about "The Lord of the Rings", and then took half of them to make a movie out of. The following is the list of what he chose:
- Two unlikely humanoid characters off to return a magical object to a special place
- Large, nature-dwelling/loving creatures who aren't hasty and have a love for little humanoids
- Small, Halfling creatures enjoying a peaceful rural existence
- Big dark beings who relentlessly hunt the one with the magical object
- An ugly, slimy, miserable creature who pretends to be friends but betrays our heroes
- The wonderful power of song
- Elves! (…Sort of)
Thus, "The Dark Crystal" was born!
The setup is as follows. Some omnipotent immortal beings used this great magical white crystal to create a very peaceful and nice world, and all was happy and dappy and sappy and wonderful. Then one day around the water cooler, one brought up an idea, "Hey! How about when our three suns align during this astrological event called 'The Great Conjunction', we break our crystal!" Having nothing better to do during lunch hour, the beings did so.
Unfortunately for them, breaking the crystal in two also broke them in two, turning the tall, peaceful, white-robed humanoids with coral reefs for hair into their good and evil halves. The good halves were something of a cross between Himalayan farmers and a diplodocus called "Mystics", while the bad halves looked like Big Bird's punk rocker brethren called "Skeksies". Needless to say, the two didn't jibe very well and soon split up. The Mystics took up holistic health and ecology courses in a commune far away from their old castle, while the Skeksies rejected the Triune God and adopted mad science.
Despite having shifted phylogenies from the Class Mammalia to the Class Aves, the Skeksies liked being the new head honchos of the world. Unfortunately, while one of them was out on a Sunday drive, he happened to pull up alongside a mural made by Gelflings. As the name implies, Gelflings are crosses between elves and goats, having the pointy ears and long hair of elves, but the snouts, moist rhinariums, and small sizes of goats. This particular mural said, in addition to some gibberish about Great Cthulhu dwelling in the sunken city of R'Legh, that a Gelfling would one day bring about the destruction of the Skeksies. In response, the head Skeksie enacted the "Final Solution", a program whereby all people with Gelfling blood in them were moved to ghettos, then to concentration camps, and finally the execution chambers where they met their fate at the hands of the Gartham. (A Gartham, by the way, is a mutant pill bug from Hell that delights in destroying everything around it, including harmless pots that were minding their own business. See the movie for more on this.)
Anyway, that's enough exposition. Now on to the present of the movie. Apparently, the Skeksies have found out centuries in the future that being separate from the Mystics isn't all that great of a thing, as they are now mortal. As a result, they've been slowly dying off over the years until there are only a handful left. The cloud to this silver lining? The Mystics and the Skeksies are still linked although they're not in one body. Everything that happens to one happens to the other one. (i.e. Skeksie gets a pimple, Mystic is the one who gets his date ruined.) So they've been dying in pairs.
At this point, there are only two Gelflings left, but they're a boy and a girl so it should work out. (Actually, they could be a man and a woman. I'm not sure if those are what adult Gelflings look like.) Jem, the boy, and no relation to the Barbie-esque singer of the same era, was taken in by the Mystics when he was a baby. Kira, the girl, and no relation to the Bajorian from Deep Space Nine, was taken in by the song/swamp-loving Podlings. The Mystics have taught Jem how to write and count and play their Gregorian chants on his pan flute. The Podlings are more into singing and dancing and making friends with all of the local floral and fauna in their world…which is good because every single rock, tree, reed, and innocent-looking hill in this movie is alive and potentially carnivorous. They lead a pretty happy existence in their peat bog, aside from the fact that Gartham occasionally come by and abduct a dozen of them to take back to the Skeksie scientist, who drains their essences and turns them into incredibly strange creatures who stopped living and became mixed-up zombies…or slaves, for short.
However, the time for the next Great Conjunction is at hand, and the Mystics dispatch Jem to carry out the Gelfling prophecy: return the broken piece of the dark crystal back to it, to once again make it whole and cause the Mystics and Skeksies to reunite.
Along the way, he'll pair up with Kira and her rabid tribble named Fizzgig. They make a great team, what with Jem's ability to read and, um…play the pan flute…and Kira's ability to do…well, everything else, including medic, weapon user, guide, beast tamer, singer, emotional crutch, and glider. Yes, glider.
They'll also encounter our resident wise person for this fantasy, a hag who looks like year-old hamburger gristle who comes with a detachable eye (think the Fates in Greek Mythology) named Augra, who is so old that she sounds like she suffers from constipation every time she attempts to sit down.
They'll also encounter the treacherous Chamberlain. (FYI, none of the Skeksies or Mystics have names. They're simply called what their occupation is. Oh well. Makes it easier to keep track of them.) Chamberlain is a Skeksie who was banished by his/her fellow anthropomorphic birds for losing a trial to become the next Skeksie Emperor (although there are only about eight of them to rule over at this point…). At least, that's the impression. Part of it might also have to do with the fact that Chamberlain is about the most annoying puppet ever to grace the silver screen (Jar Jar Binks was CGI). S/he is voiced by the immortal Frank Oz, but it appears that at some point either the director or the screenwriter approached him and said, "You know that little "hrm?" thing that Yoda keeps doing? Do that for Chamberlain…only make it a lot more annoying and do it five times for every line s/he has." At any rate, Chamberlain is now earnest to befriend the two Gelflings…but only so that s/he can swap them for his/her office. You know. Kind of what senators do.
Adventures will ensue! Marvel at the massive 3D real time model of the universe! Feel the exhilaration of riding atop a ten-foot tall stilt rabbit! Witness the power of the mighty Single Note Chant ™! Gasp at the most over-elaborate dining scene since Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom! Be amazed at the fantastic Gelfling Mind-Meld! Feel your heart break ten minutes until the end of the movie at the most tragic scene since the death of Bambi's mother! (Damn you, Skeksies!) Then feel your spirits lift for the most surprising happy ending since "The Shawshank Redemption"! (…Ok, maybe not that extreme, but to a six-year old kid it was a pretty happy turn.)
See "The Dark Crystal"!
Memorable Quote: Jem should have paid more attention in Gelfling Sex Ed 101…
JEM: Wings? I don't have wings!
KIRA: Of course not. You're a boy.
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"Labyrinth" (1986)
Moving on to the later periods of the '80s…we see one of the great staples of that day and age. There was a new wave of thought in this mighty Age of Reason known only to scholars as the 1980s... The logic they followed was this, "If a person is a great rock star…then obviously he or she is a great actor too!" Thus came films such as "Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome", "The Wiz", "Freejack" (…Ok, that one might have been '90s, but it felt like an '80s film.), and, of course, the immortal "Labyrinth". This could be David Bowie's strangest work since his duet with Bing Crosby of "The Little Drummer Boy"…
Most people think that "Labyrinth" only has pure entertainment value. What they don't realize is that if you dubbed over the first five or ten minutes you could turn this movie into a documentary for high schools, giving a stern warning against the dangers of hallucinogens.
"Remember kids! Never take copious amounts of LSD prior to babysitting your siblings! Otherwise, the next thirteen hours of your life might go like…this!"
We start off with our heroine, Sarah, played by none other than Jennifer Connelly. Although this was merely an early stepping stone in her career, in the future, she'll go on to win acclaim for her parts in…um…er…hmm. Well…she's been in acclaimed movies at least. Moving on… Though there are many teenagers in the world who are homeless, hungry, cold, with child, and forced into prostitution, we must pity this unfortunate lass because (ready hankies) she's an American teen with a stepmother who has to watch her baby brother! Oh no…I'm getting forclemped. Talk amongst yourselves. I'll give you a topic. A Labyrinth is neither a lab nor a yrinth.
Phew, I'm better now. Anyway, like I said, Sarah has a stepmother and a baby brother she has to look after when her parents go out. So we can understand totally that she'd like to escape into her own little fantasy world of fantasy drama and hates her little brother Toby's guts for wanting affection at such a tender age. She hates him so much, in fact, that she decides to practice a line from her play on him, wishing that the Goblin King would come and take him away.
Let this be a lesson to you all never to quote fantasy plays carelessly. You never know when, say, an army of goblins could be hiding in your closet overhearing you wish for your little brother to be spirited away by the Goblin King. Before Sarah knows it, a bunch of hideous little imps are carting Toby away to their monarch's castle. The Goblin King himself, Jareth, must use a lot of moisturizer, get frequent sun, and had an adequate diet growing up…because rather than being a gross little spawn of the wet grass clumps from under your lawnmower, he's a full grown rock singer (played by David Bowie) whose most supernatural characteristics are his Vulcan-like eyebrows and non-curly afro.
Apparently, Jareth keeps an ear out for vain teenage girls with baby brothers who quote fantasy plays. And since mating to get an heir would mean having to resort to one of the mold-encrusted two-foot tall members of his own kingdom, he's looking to make Toby a little goblin prince. Luckily for Sarah, there's a California Statute No. 478 that strictly states:
"In the event of teenagers under and up to the age of 18 stating an oral yet legally binding request for the nearest mythical creature monarch to come and sequester a younger family member for an indefinite period, such requests will be considered null and void if said teenagers are able to successfully reach the mythical creature monarch's place of residence within thirteen hours of the oral statement."
Unfortunately for Sarah, Jareth's castle seems to be located in the center of an aptly named part of the world called the Labyrinth, where if the maze and goblin armies don't kill you, one or more of the residents should get around to it. It's filled with domesticated worms, Africanized killer fairies (feel free to pull the wings off these guys), talking masonry, living pits, and lots of bird creatures whose favorite pastimes are singing, dancing, and dismembering themselves.
Yet not all the oversized, monstrous-looking puppets are bad. There's Hoggle, a dwarfish creature who's been stung on the face by one too many bees, but is nice so long as you don't eat his fruit (you don't want to know what's inside that peach). There's Ludo, one of the most loveable (if not butt-ugly) furballs since Chewbacca the 8-foot Wookie, who is lifelong friends with…rocks. That's right, rocks. (Don't laugh. You piss the rocks off, and they'll go nuts on you, man. The Mob…the FBI…the CIA… They're bad, but how would Osama Bin Laden be able to hide from rocks, I ask you?) Finally, there's Sir Didymus, the bravest little anthropomorphic Pomerian of them all, who with his faithful mount, the sheepdog Ambrosius, can slay mighty goblins up to 36 inches tall!
This movie is likely supposed to be a modern spin on a classic fairy tale…but as Sarah and her merry men delve deeper into the Labyrinth, you'll probably start to wonder more and more if some of the next door neighbor's "incense" is blowing into your ventilation shaft again. Personally, when I first saw this movie, it scared the hell out of me. Assuming your own little kids aren't desensitized like my nephews, David Bowie's face will probably be more than enough to make them board up every opening in their rooms. Jareth makes more than enough little stops along the road to throw a few speed bumps in Sarah's progress, including trying to drop her into the Bog of Eternal Stench. (You know that smell when you're walking through an apartment building, and on like each floor you smell all the different types of food that everyone is cooking for dinner? It's like that, plus crap.) Although considering his acting and some of the sequences, at times you have to wonder if Jareth is really trying to impede her progress or seduce her (Again, consider the fact… Two foot tall, mold encrusted women is all he's got…).
I won't give away the heart-pounding ending, where a little PCP is mixed in with the LSD for big nightmarish action sequences, but the film does give a valuable lesson. Blood is thicker than water? No. There's no dearer friend than your sibling? Nope. Friendship is the ultimate virtue? Uh-uh. The best things in life aren't things? No cigar.
It is, "Always remember your lines at a critical point in the plot". "Manos: The Hands of Fate" could have learned something from that.
Phew, glad that's over. Back to boring old suburbia where…eh? What? Oh no! Sarah's reaching for the LSD again! Stop her before…too late! They're in the mirror! Sober up before…No! Argh! THEY'RE BACK! THEY'RE ON THE BED! THEY'RE IN MY CLOSET! THEY WANT TO PLAY SCRABBLE! AAAH!
Memorable Quote: That Jareth really knows how to threaten his subordinates into submission…
JARETH: If she kisses you, I'll turn you into a prince…of stench!
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Speaking of drug induced behavior, I'm glad I got that out of my system.