AN – Hey look! I'm not dead! *ducks the rotton vegetables* Ok, ok. So this hasn't been updated in . . . holy crap, two years? My how time flies. Anyhoo, I finally finished the next chapter. Hopefully there's a few of you still looking out for updates. Enjoy. The next installment shouldn't take near as long. At least I hope not. *sheepish wince* Thanks a ton for all the reviews in the meantime, and the encouragement to continue. Hopefully this lives up to the expectation.
Chapter Nineteen
Operation Sorceress
~~*~~
Seifer leaned boredly on one shoulder inside the gate house control room, doing his best to ignore Zell and Selphie as they chattered happily together like a couple of hyperactive magpies. Instead the tall gunblade specialist was staring out of the long, narrow opening, eyes roving restlessly across the glittering lights of the city beyond.
Soon, Quisty, he soothed himself gruffly, and the burning twinge of guilt that still ate at his chest. Soon we'll kill the bitch responsible. Then maybe we can both find some peace.
Absently, he couldn't help but wonder if it would really be that simple. Or would this oppressive feeling of guilt continue to haunt him forever.
He was musing over that bit of unpleasant possibility when Seifer suddenly tensed, having caught sight of a familiar dark-haired female slinking through the press below.
"Hyne-damned, son-of-a-bitch, fucking—! Hyne save me from head-strong, stubborn-ass females!" he roared, rather ineffectually, since Rinoa couldn't possibly hear him from this height. Selphie and Zell turned to him in astonishment at his outburst, then loped closer to see what the problem was. Zell blew out a stunned breath of disbelief.
"Holy crap, is she doing what I think she's doing?"
"What is she thinking!" Selphie exclaimed shortly after, eyes wide and wringing her hands. "She can't possibly hope to do anything worthwhile with that bangle by herself!"
"Except get her fool ass killed," Seifer growled testily. He hesitated a moment longer, then growled and spun around, heading for the door. "You two stay put," he snapped, "and pull that lever when it's time."
Neither one of them contested his decision, watching him leave with matching expressions of worry and doubt on their faces. "Good luck," was Selphie's concerned murmur before the door slammed shut behind him.
Outside, Irvine and Squall both tensed as the sorceress suddenly appeared at the podium above. The redheaded cowboy's face was strangely drawn, teal eyes troubled.
"Here she comes," he muttered needlessly.
Squall stared up at the dark-robed figure silently, wondering if everyone else in Deling was insane or just stone blind and stupid. A Sorceress was a being of unimaginable power—a mortal able to channel powerful, seemingly endless amounts of magic through their bodies with little or no repercussion. One had not been seen openly in the world since the days of the Sorceress War, when the deadly and malignant Sorceress Adele had wreaked her havoc on the land before she was finally put down. And here they were, all cheering and applauding wildly as if she were some kind of saint, when anyone with half a brain would recognize the sneering, cold . . . evil expression on the woman's face. Squall couldn't rightly say what kind of emotion gripped him exactly in staring at the undeniably powerful creature, only that it was laced with a liberal amount of caution and uncertainty.
The sorceress approached the podium, where President Vinzer Deling had just finished introducing her. Squall tensed further, however, as a small figure slowly followed her out onto the balcony. A pale, dark-haired girl swaying unnaturally on her feet, expression blank and those beautiful brown eyes completely glazed over.
"H-hey . . . that girl!" Irvine suddenly hissed beside him. Squall felt every muscle in his body lock up with a very unfamiliar sensation. One that felt very similar to cold, biting terror, for someone other than himself.
"Rinoa."
The Sorceress placed her hands on either side of the podium, her eyes scowling down at the congregated below her with little hidden scorn in their depths. "Lowlifes," she sneered, her voice a strangely hypnotic purr of undeniable power. "Shameless filthy wretches. How you celebrate my ascension with such joy. Hailing the very one whom you have condemned for generations. Have you no shame?" Squall noted that the president—standing beside her—was staring at the woman with wide-eyed disbelief on his face. Obviously this wasn't the speech they had gone over previously. Sorceress Edea continued, oblivious or—more likely—uncaring of his opinion on the matter. "What happened to the evil, ruthless sorceress from your fantasies? The cold-blooded tyrant that slaughtered countless men and destroyed many nations? Where is she now?" The black-clad woman motioned grandly with her arms. "She stands before your very eyes to become your new ruler!" Edea threw her head back and chortled with laughter, a strangely discordant sound that sent the hairs along the back of his neck standing on end. "A new era has just begun."
Deling finally managed to wrest himself out of his shock. He stepped forward, and they could just barely hear his voice through the speakers. "E-Edea . . . Are you alright? Ed—," The president's words ended in a stunned, pained gurgle as the female beside him suddenly shot her arm out and the clawed ends of her hand stabbed deeply into his chest. The president's eyes bugged an instant before he slumped, and then his body was engulfed in a strange swirl of magical energy.
And still, the crowds around them cheered. Were they all under some sort of spell?
"This is the truth," Edea called coldly. "No one can help you. Sit back and enjoy the show." The Sorceress slung the former president's body from her with a negligent flip of her wrist. The body thumped somewhat sickeningly onto the ground, where it then began to disintegrate into gurgling, noxious yellow gases. "Rest assured, you fools. Your time will come," Edea promised in a deadly purr. "This is only the beginning. Let us start a new reign of terror. I will let you live a fantasy beyond your imagination." And with that she finally spun around and left the podium, leaving Rinoa swaying there helplessly.
Sorceress Edea paused in the hallway, her beautiful face twisting into an unholy smirk of amused evil. "Let us end this ceremony with a sacrifice."
Below, Squall and Irvine watched in horrified disbelief as two monstrous creatures suddenly darted through the crowd and then leapt up onto the balcony high above. Rinoa seemed to snap out of her strange trance an instant too late. She let out a terrified scream, falling back on her rear to avoid one of the beasts as it leapt at her.
Irvine grabbed Squall's shoulder and shook him hard. "Hey, hey, hey! She's in trouble, big-time! We gotta go help Rinoa!"
Because everything inside of him was screaming a shrill agreement, Squall forced himself to pull his shoulder out of the gunman's grasp and scowl.
"The parade hasn't started yet," he pointed out tonelessly. "Gate's not open."
Irvine just stared at him in shock, jaw dropping. "You gotta be kidding me!"
Seifer pushed and shoved his way through the oppressive throng, too worried about Rinoa at the moment to put too much thought toward the bizarre way the Galbadians were reacting to the witch-bitch's chilling statements. You'd think they would've been incited into a mass panic, not a drunken orgy-like euphoria. All in all, something weird was definitely going on around here.
As the parade began, Seifer was forced to duck into the street—the only half-way clear avenue of movement—ducking through dancers and revelers, doing his best to remain as inconspicuous as possible while brilliant fireworks lit up the skies above and massive flaming braziers cast everything into an eerie red relief.
A moment later he was daring past the huge float that carried the Sorceress Edea, where she sat on a throne and looked for all the world to be the powerful queen she'd just proclaimed herself to be. But that wasn't what caused Seifer to stumble to a stop so fast he nearly lost his footing, or to straighten completely to his full height—completely forgetting his desire to stay hidden—his eyes wide in abject disbelief and his mouth opening to voice a protest that refused to leave his suddenly constricted throat.
A tall, slim, pale-skinned girl stood at the Sorceress's side, like a guardian. Her willowy frame was encased in a swath of richly made, delicate blue silk, the fine fabric hugging her lean frame and draping beautifully off her subtle curves—giving her an almost ethereal, otherworldly quality. Pale lemon-blonde hair spilled loose down her back, glinting gold in the light of the torches on either side of the dais. A deadly silver whip was clasped to the matching belt that framed her surprisingly curvy hips. All in all, she was beautiful. Hauntingly so. And so achingly familiar it hurt him to stare.
"Hyne . . ." Seifer breathed, in a voice that was barely audible through his shock. "Quistis."
She was alive. It was her . . . and yet . . . it wasn't. There was a chilling, wholly evil expression that twisted her pretty alabaster face as she stood tall and proudly beside the Sorceress, and the cold apathy now shining from her diamond-blue eyes as they swept over the teeming crowd.
Hyne . . . shit . . . what did that bitch do to you? the tall warrior wondered dully, horrified. A faint, horrified scream suddenly wrenched Seifer from his stupor. Sorceress Edea's float had drifted off down the street on its planned path, leaving him staring at nothing. And at the sound of that far-off screech, Seifer was forcefully reminded of his original purpose. He whirled away from the parade for now, expression hardening. He'd figure out what to do about Quistis in a minute. For now, he had to get to Rinoa before she got eaten by those two lizard-lion reject things that the Sorceress had summoned on her.
Seifer rushed up to the gate, and adjusted his trajectory when he recognized Squall and Irvine standing near it.
"Now's our chance!" Irvine was yelling, in order to be heard over the music and the crowd. "Come on!" And then the tall cowboy turned and started running for the open gate. Squall, for whatever reason, didn't immediately follow. Seifer just let out a growl and rushed forward, snatching him up by the back of his jacket and physically hauling him forward.
"What're you waiting for, Pubes?" he snapped roughly. "A gilded invitation?"
Squall wrestled himself out of Seifer's hold, but continued running side-by-side as they made their way toward the back of the manor. "What in the hell are you doing here?" he snapped testily. "Aren't you supposed to be pulling a lever or something soon?"
Seifer just growled under his breath as the three men skid to a stop in front of a truck loaded down with crates. Parked conveniently close enough to use as leverage to get up onto the roof.
"Quistis is on that float," he announced softly as they started to climb. Squall shot him a sharp look at that, and Irvine gave a confused—and strangely startled—one. "I dunno what the fuck is going on," he continued gravelly, "but after we save Rin and kill that bitch, I intend to find out." Squall just nodded his agreement before they all turned their attention toward getting onto the roof in all possible haste.
The three raced across the balcony and then down the hall, into a large antechamber where Rinoa had managed to retreat to. The girl cowered now on the floor, curling into a helpless fetal position while the two Iguions crouched over her, looking ready to pounce any minute.
Despite his reluctance earlier, Squall was the first one forward, Shear Trigger raised and bellowing out her name as he charged. Behind him Seifer snorted a little he drew Hyperion and followed suit. Pubes had it bad, whether he was ready to admit it or not.
Both gunblade specialists singled out an Iguion, simultaneously slashing and firing and drawing their attention away from Rinoa, while Irvine hung back and laid down plenty of cover fire. A few bloody moments later they managed to fell them completely. Seifer grimaced a little, wincing and shifting his coat to stare at a new singed spot along the hem, courtesy of that damned lizard's fire-breath.
"Dammit."
Meanwhile Squall rushed forward and knelt down to Rinoa, who was still curled up on the ground. Slowly, as he neared, she carefully sat up and turned to him. Her face was pale, dark eyes widened, but alive and little worse for wear considering the very precarious situation she'd just been in. A breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding rushed out of him in a thankful hiss.
The girl swallowed somewhat thickly, her gaze—shimmering somewhat with unshed tears—turned up to him solemnly. "I was scared," she whispered softly.
Suddenly extremely uncomfortable now that the immediate danger was past—having no idea how he was supposed to deal with the aftermath of this kind of situation—Squall cleared his throat and straightened back to his feet again. Rinoa just lifted up onto her knees however, her tiny hands clutching at one of his arms.
"Really scared," she reiterated, tone still trembling somewhat with shock.
The SeeD tensed, even more confused than before. "It's over now," he reminded her somewhat bluntly. Meanwhile his gaze was caught by Irvine, who was standing near Seifer and jerking his head to one side, giving him some sort of expectant look. Squall just shook his head in return, his own expression confused and faintly annoyed.
Rinoa started shaking his arm then, regaining his attention and forcing Squall to look back down at her. "I was scared," she repeated somewhat desperately. "I was really, really scared."
"You're used to battles aren't you?" he demanded at length, tone a little on the gruff side with his continued uncomfortable confusion. In the background, Irvine had wrapped both arms around himself and was jerking his head even harder. Squall glared at him, wondering what the hell he was going on about.
Beside him, Rinoa slumped a little, her dark hair sliding around her pale face like a shroud. "I couldn't . . . I just couldn't. I couldn't fight alone."
Squall stared down at her bowed head for a moment, feeling something in his chest squeeze almost painfully. You're not ready for this. Unsettled by the foreign feeling, he cleared his throat again and carefully shook her hand off his arm. "Better get going."
At that Irvine threw his arms up into the air with a disgusted growling sigh and spun away, and Seifer just shook his head beside him. "And I thought Chicken Wuss was dense," he muttered half under his breath.
Rinoa got to her feet slowly, but when Squall made to start moving away she pounced forward and grabbed onto his arm again. The brunette froze in place, expression tightening. "I haven't forgotten your order," he assured her. Yet still she wouldn't let go, continuing to stare up at him imploringly. Finally Squall rolled his eyes somewhat and sighed rather heavily. "Just stay close to me." Finally soothed with that, Rinoa nodded shakily and let out a shuddering breath, finally releasing her death-grip on his arm. As Squall moved back out into the hallway and toward the hatch that the General had mentioned, she didn't allow him more than an arm's length ahead of her either.
The four of them made their way through the hatch and onto the darkened carousel clock currently underground. Squall spotted the huge, deadly black sniper rifle laying nearby and moved to grab it, then turned back to the others. He held it out to the suddenly solemn-faced redhead. "Irvine Kinneas, it's in your hands now."
Irvine hesitated only a moment before he reached out to take the weapon. Silent, he bowed his head and moved off to the other side of the clock, where he slowly sat down with his back to the wall, chin to his chest and knees drawn up, the rifle balanced against one of his shoulders.
The others exchanged a look of curious confusion. Huh . . . Why'd he get all quiet? Squall wondered to himself. Squall leaned up against one of the pillars on one shoulder while Seifer and Rinoa stepped forward and sat down on one of the fake drums. Must be concentrating, he finally decided. Loneliness of a sharpshooter . . . I guess he has a point. The brunette sighed somewhat, glancing around at their darkened surroundings, somewhat unnerved by the unnatural quiet. Can't hear anything from in here . . . What's going on with the parade, I wonder? Squall found his gaze sliding over to where Seifer had hunched slightly, leaning back against the wall and glaring off at nothing. Quistis . . . so she's alive.
"You're certain it was her, Seifer?" he demanded at length. The blonde glanced at him, a shadow of his usual sneer pulling at his lips.
"I was standing less than ten feet away from the damn float, Pubes. Yeah. I'm pretty damned certain."
"Of what?" Rinoa questioned softly.
"Quistis," Seifer heaved, mostly sounding tired now. "She's alive." Rinoa's eyes widened with a gasp, but her budding excitement was soon quelled by his next words. "She's taken up with that witch-bitch for some reason, though. She was on the parade float with her. Like some sort of damned bodyguard or something."
Rinoa winced, then after a brief hesitation she reached out and put her hand over one of his resting on his knee. Squall glared at that hand, feeling an immeasurable amount of anger that it was sitting there and having no damned good reason why he should feel that way.
"What does it mean?" she questioned softly. It was Squall who found himself answering.
"Who knows," he muttered darkly, causing both of them to turn to him. Rinoa's gaze was sad, Seifer's dark. Likely he was thinking the same thing that Squall was. If I were to face the sorceress directly . . . . Would I have to go through Quistis? He scowled slightly, resentful of the painful tug in his chest. That's the way it goes when you're SeeD, he reminded himself bitterly. You can't choose your enemies. He lifted his gaze and met Seifer's again, the steel blue of his eyes flat and steady and betraying none of the inner turmoil within. "I may end up killing her."
Seifer's jaw seemed to tighten a fraction, but he said nothing, merely nodded his head. Rinoa stared down at the floor.
"You're both . . . prepared, right?" she questioned at length. Her eyes lifted up after a moment, and for some reason Squall found it very hard to maintain that stare. "That's the kind of world you live in. You've had a lot of emotional training." With the way she said it, Squall wasn't entirely sure if she found that to be a good thing, either. The dark-haired girl blew out a heavy sigh after that, wrapping her arms around herself as if chilled. "Of course, I hope it doesn't come to that."
Squall just glanced away, over to where the gunman still sat alone. "It's all up to Irvine," he heaved. The gunblade specialist had to pause slightly after a moment of staring, his eyes narrowing.
Was that gun shaking?
In three quick strides Squall closed the distance between them and knelt. And tensed when he realized that Irvine was shaking like the last autumn leaf clinging to a tree branch in the face of a winter storm. Is he freakin' out?! Squall scowled.
"Don't tell me you're getting the jitters," he growled, causing Seifer and Rinoa to turn to them as well. Irvine slowly raised his head, a strange heaviness in his teal colored eyes before he tilted completely back and stared up at the ceiling.
"I-I . . . I can't do it."
Squall smacked his face into his palm, while Seifer let out a barking growl of disbelieving laughter.
"You gotta be shitting me."
Zell, who had been keeping an eye out through the window slat, tensed as the carousel clock slowly raised up out of the president's residence, the huge red digital numbers across its surface reading 20:00, just as the parade float made its way underneath them.
"Now, Selphie!" he called. "Hit it!"
The energetic female grabbed the switch and yanked with all her might. There was a thudding rumble, and then below them the portcullis screeched downward, thudding deep into the pavement with a crash on both ends. Trapping the float inside.
The sorceress got to her feet immediately, her beautiful face twisted into a scowl. Beside her Quistis whirled this way and that in search of the threat, a hand snatching up the handle of her wicked silver whip, blue eyes narrowed into icy slits.
"Irvine Kinneas!" Squall snarled, trying to snap the bastard out of it.
"C'mon you braggart piece of shit!" Seifer was quick to follow up. "Just shoot the damn thing!"
"I-I . . . I can't," the redhead forced out, his face near ghost-white, teal eyes haunted. "I'm sorry, I can't do it. I always choke like this," he revealed miserably. "I try to act cool, joke around, but I just can't handle the pressure."
"I am going to shove that rifle straight up your ass if you don't get up and shoot," was Seifer's snarling assessment.
"Seifer!" was Rinoa's aghast protest just after.
"Forget it," Squall snapped, tuning the both of them out, "Just shoot."
"My bullet," Irvine mumbled. "The sorceress . . . I'll go down in history," he whispered. "I'd change the history of Galbadia . . . Of the world!" He grit his teeth, turning away slightly and clutching at the gun still resting against his shoulder. "It's all too much."
Quickly growing exasperated himself—knowing precious seconds were ticking by, seconds they couldn't afford to waste—Squall snarled, "Enough! Just shoot!"
"I can't, dammit!" Irvine growled back, tone raw.
Squall forced himself to try and calm down at that. Losing his cool wasn't going to help Irvine regain his. "Irvine, calm down," he advised softly, then. The steady, confident tone of his voice immediately caused the spark of panic to ease in the gunman's eyes. Instead he put his face in his hands, slumping slightly and shaking his head. "Everyone's waiting on you," Squall reminded him as gently as he could. "I don't care if you miss," he announced. "Whatever happens, just leave the rest to us. Just think of it as a signal," he finally pronounced somewhat desperately when Irvine still hadn't moved. "A sign for us to move."
Finally the gunman turned slightly, his head cocking back in Squall's direction. "Just a signal . . . ."
That's it. "Please," Squall murmured then, voice shaking slightly with the tension he was trying so hard to suppress.
Irvine took a deep breath, then finally got to his knees and spun around, lifting the rifle and balancing it against the edge of the clock. "Just a sign," he seemed to whisper to himself, almost like a prayer, before he chambered a bullet with a sharp, precise motion and then took aim. A second later the barrel of the sniper rifle exploded in fire as the bullet launched from the weapon.
Only to fall short of its mark, as the sorceress quickly threw up some sort of magical barrier that blocked the deadly projectile with a motion of her arm and a sneer of her lips.
Irvine slumped at that, head bowing. "I'm sorry."
Squall just shook his head. "It's okay," he found himself moved to sooth. "Your aim was perfect. Just leave the rest up to me." He stood, swinging around to stare at Seifer. "Be ready to back me up."
"You're delusional if you think I'm sitting up here twiddling my thumbs, Pube Boy," was the taller teen's sneering retort. Not having the time to argue, Squall just turned back to Irvine, who was slowly getting to his feet as well. "Take care of Rinoa."
Seifer drew Hyperion and launched himself after Squall as the brunette took off out of the carousel clock at a dead run. The two SeeDs darted out to the balcony, then leapt up over the podium and plummeted to the pavement below. Seifer dive-rolled somewhat to break his momentum, seamlessly regaining his feet and tearing into a small regiment of Galbadian soldiers who had come forward to stop them with a snarl. Squall did much of the same beside him.
Puberty turned after the last one was dropped and launched himself toward a little blue speedster. Seifer wasn't two steps behind him, and leapt into the passenger seat just as Squall dropped the clutch and took off with a screeching squeal of tires. Squall maneuvered them through the milling mass of bodies, launching them straight at one of the closed portcullis. Seifer braced himself for the impact, and barely moved when the front end of the car smashed completely through the iron grate.
Immediately the two leapt out of the car, gunblades drawn, and up onto the float inside. Only to come face to face with where Quistis was kneeling in front of the sorceress, pale face twisted into a predatory smirk, slowly running the handle of her whip along the curve of her jaw.
"Aw, the little boys want to play," she purred softly. "Hm-m. This should be . . . interesting."
She slowly straightened then, her whip uncoiling and writhing the ground beside her like a molten-silver snake just itching for the chance to strike.
"Quistis, snap out of it," Squall snapped beside him, scowling.
"What in the fuck do you call yourself doing, taking up with psycho-bitch over here?" Seifer demanded just after.
Her pale blue eyes narrowed dangerously, her former smiling face twisting into a look of resentful hatred.
"I am following my true calling," she hissed. For a moment, Seifer could have sworn he saw her eyes start to glow faintly, and the hair along his arms and the back of his neck started to raise on end as he felt a sudden upsurge of something in the air around him. Almost like the charged energy in the air just before a lightning strike. Her golden hair twisted upward, swaying and floating somewhat unnaturally as if she were caught in some sort of gravity field. "I am a god among insects!"
Seifer and Squall barely had enough time to react, diving in opposite directions as a massive fork of energy suddenly erupted from her free arm and exploded the ground where they had just been standing. Seifer rolled back to his knees, his body continuing to do as it had been trained even while his brain had completely shut down from shock.
"Holy . . . fuck."
That wasn't any thunder spell that he knew of. That hadn't been like any kind of magic that a normal SeeD could produce . . . it seemed more like the sort of innate stuff . . . that he'd seen that black-clad psycho-bitch produce.
Quistis—or rather the mysteriously powerful creature she had become—let out a low, purring chuckle of pleasure before her deadly whip slashed out with a surgeon's precision. Opening up a deep, bloody furrow across Squall's right thigh before the teen had a chance to get out of the way. He hissed in pain, stumbling slightly.
Get up and fight, jackass, Seifer snarled at himself. She's obviously twisted off her damned rocker. It's not Quistis anymore. It's the enemy. Quistis is dead. Get the fuck up!
The last desperate inner-snarl managed to help him leap out of the way just before another massive bolt of energy came sizzling in his direction.
Acting on some sort of eerie, unspoken agreement, Seifer and Squall both raised their gunblades at the same time and launched forward to engage Quistis fully. As strong and as good with that whip as she had been, the former Instructor would not have been able to hold them both at bay. Yet this new creature did so, if not easily than at least decently enough. Her deadly silver weapon slashed and cracked the air around her, catching the both of them more than once. In between that she reared back and then seemed to roar in his direction. Seifer almost didn't avoid the huge gout of flame that thundered past—eerily reminiscent of the ability the Iguion had unleashed. Stunned, Seifer rolled back to his feet, slowly putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Somehow, someway . . . Quistis was using monster magic. Without a GF. And there were absolutely no signs of mag-fatigue wracking that deadly body of hers, either.
Shit. Quistis was a sorceress, too. That was why Edea had taken her, back in Timber. That's what the freak show had meant when she'd mentioned Quistis' 'true potential.'
Holy Hyne.
From the pale-faced look on Squall's face, it seemed he'd come to the same conclusion as well.
Irvine and Rinoa chose that moment to suddenly launch themselves up onto the float beside them. Quistis took a measuring step backward, eyes narrowing again and her whip cracking agitatedly.
Behind her, Sorceress Edea sneered. "SeeDs," she sneered, violet-black lips curling. "Planted in a run-down garden."
"You three, finish the mission," Seifer found himself barking, lifting Hyperion and trying to ignore the myriad painful slashes now striping his arms and chest. Just deep enough to distract him. "I'll hold Quistis."
The blonde in question just threw her head back and cackled, but allowed the other three to dart past her. She closed the distance between them instead, her whip lashing lazily in her wake. "My mistress will make quick work of your friends," she assured in a deadly purr. As she got closer, Seifer suddenly realized that the pupils of her ice-blue eyes were no longer round, but strangely club-shaped. "I am going to enjoy choking the life from you, insect," she announced, then.
"Then stop runnin' your mouth and come get some, crazy-bitch," he snapped.
When her whip slashed up Seifer was ready, raising his hand and catching the end of the deadly weapon before it could coil around his neck. He allowed himself a brief second to relish in the startled expression that flickered across her pale face before he wrapped the whip around his fist and then yanked as hard as he could. Quistis stumbled forward, thrown off balance, and ended up taking the fist he had curled around the handle of his gunblade that much harder across her cheek.
The female let out a slight cry, whirling with the force of the blow and stumbling again. Yet she was quick to recover, forcing Seifer to duck to avoid the next vicious lash of that whip. Her face was fixed into a deadly snarl now, somewhat ruined by the stream of crimson staining the front of her chin from her now-split lip. Seifer was forced to ignore anything that might be taking place in the climactic battle with Edea beyond, his entire being focused on the deadly creature directly in front of him now hell-bent on slaughtering him in the most painful way possible.
Seifer dodged another blast of electricity, but was forced to take the shards of ice that came hurling at him right afterward in the side with a slight roar of pain. He managed to fend her off with a few swings of Hyperion, but he stumbled dangerously afterward. He was losing too much blood, sapping his strength and concentration fast.
Sensing her victory, Quistis' expression twisted into a triumphant grin as her whip lashed up and this time snapped around his neck like a boa constrictor. Immediately Seifer choked, his airways violently snapped shut. Hyperion clattered to the ground as he raised both hands to his neck, clutching at the weapon in a desperate attempt to dislodge it. But he was already too weak from his other injuries and blood loss, and didn't accomplish much before he was jerked off his feet. The force of the landing shoved what little air was left out of his lungs. Seifer struggled harder, more futile, the edges of his vision starting to turn black.
Quistis suddenly hovered into his field of vision, holding the end of her deadly silver whip cruelly taut, expression triumphant. Seifer stared up into those cold blue eyes, desperately searching for some small shred of recognition.
Beyond them, Edea slumped, seemingly defeated. Yet suddenly she straightened again and a gigantic spike of ice formed above her raised palm. Before anyone had a chance to react, she sent the projectile hurtling toward Squall with the speed of a bullet. The icicle speared him straight through the chest, sending the teen flying backward. Expression twisted somewhere between shock and pain, he toppled back over the rail of the bridge and plummeted down to the river below, Rinoa's shrill scream following him down.
Seifer choked again. "Q . . . Q-Quisty," he somehow managed to force out, his brain starting to shut down from lack of oxygen.
Amazingly Quistis seemed to tense above him at that hoarse plea. She blinked several times, her head twitching slightly to the side, and then her crazed expression slowly melted into an extremely confused one. And then that quickly shifted into a look of pure horror and disbelief.
"Oh Hyne! Seifer!"
The whip was quickly snatched away from his neck then with a flick of her wrist. Seifer took in a deep, ragged breath that came back out in a rush of coughing and choking. He was bleeding too heavily now however, his body too weak. Though he desperately fought it, blackness soon swept over him afterward. Throwing Seifer into the cold, unforgiving realm of unconsciousness.