Warnings: The battle commences so violence and blood. Oh, and Zack speaks.
Chapter 24 : Keeps Getting Better
The quiet in the tent was broken by the ringing of a PHS. It took a few rings for Zack to realize it was his. He'd forgotten that Seph had given him one last night—just last night? Fuck, it seemed a long time ago that he'd called Aerith to ask her permission to sleep with Cloud and Seph.
His life was so weird....
"Hello," he drawled into the sleek device, much smaller and cooler than they'd been three years ago.
"Hello, Zack," said a sweet, light voice that instantly brightened his day. "Did you get any sleep last night?" she asked. Her voice was full of teasing and curiosity.
Zack looked at Kunsel, his friend with the ultra-sharp hearing and the propensity for gossip, and decided he wanted some privacy before talking about the events of last night with anyone. "Hey, gorgeous! Whatcha doing up at this hour?" He walked around the table and out the door of the tent. Completely setting aside the concerns of being the General's SiC in favour of being Aerith's boyfriend. She was more fun anyway.
"Silly," she giggled, "I'm thinking of you."
"Yeah, nice thoughts?" he grinned, "Wait, what am I saying. They're about me so of course they're nice!"
She chuckled lightly and her voice still light and teasing, "I was thinking about what you and the General were planning last night. Did you remember to take my pictures?"
"No," he said firmly, "I did not take pictures. It was a rescue mission, not a porn movie."
"Mm-mm-mmm," she mused. "No pictures, no pie. Does that sound fair?"
"Ae-rith!" he whined.
"Just teasing," she paused and Zack braced himself, "You three can put on a live demonstration for me when you get back... to make up for it" He could practically hear the lascivious eyebrow wiggle that accompanied that remark.
He was blushing. He, Zack Fair, was fucking blushing. He was so glad he'd left Kunsel back in the tent. "I can't believe you said that. What happened to the innocent flower-girl I nearly fell on so many years ago?" he asked plaintively.
She laughed at his distress. "She spent too much time with you, of course." At Zack's groan she laughed some more, light-hearted and happy. He fucking loved this woman. He loved the General and Spike, but he was in love with Aerith. She was one of his 'best thoughts'.
"I love you too, Zack," she said and Zack realized he'd been talking out loud again.
"Shit! I said that?" He covered his face with his free hand. After three years having to watch everything he said and thought you'd think he'd have better control of his mouth.
Aerith was silent for a long moment. "Didn't you mean it?" she asked hesitantly.
"Fuck, yeah I meant it," he answered firmly, "Shit, sorry, swearing again." He was so glad nobody was listening to this. He gave the surrounding area another thorough inspection. "I just was, y'know, going to do it properly when I got back to Junon. I was planning on flowers and dinner, and maybe a park bench where I could kiss you and stuff."
She chuckled, "You're such a romantic, Zack, but I think this was better because you didn't plan it. It just... fell out of your mouth because you were thinking it. And" she continued, "with you over there and me over here, I know, for sure, that you didn't say it just to get me out of my underwear. So... don't you think that's better?"
"Nothing's fucking better than you out of your panties. Shit, sorry... again. Twice." Crap, he was getting hard, he realized, just from thinking about Aerith without underwear. He was such a perv... except that the idea was totally hot. And thinking like that wasn't helping. It got worse when she laughed a mix of delight and invitation. Time for a change of topic. "So, I hear your garden's kind of famous."
"I don't know about that, but people seem to like it," she said demurely.
He knew it would make her happy that other people enjoyed her garden but he was also aware that she knew not everyone was fond of green and growing things. Zack, for instance, put up with it for her. As far as he was concerned, nothing coming out of the ground could look near as pretty as she did.
"It's funny you should mention my garden…" she started then trailed off into an awkward silence.
"What is it, babe?" Zack leaned against a sturdy post. He didn't like it when she turned serious.
"Well… you know I've always been a little different," she stopped again. A lot of people under the plate had been nice to her, but a lot of them hadn't. Having a ShinRa SOLDIER as a boyfriend hadn't helped her get accepted but at least it had kept her a bit more protected from the ones who hadn't liked her in the first place.
Zack thought he knew what her shyness was about. "You're an Ancient, right? Or at least partly." She'd told him that on a long ago night, they'd spent holding hands and stealing kisses.
"That's right. My mother, my real mother, was half."
"It's another word for Cetra, isn't it? The same people who used to inhabit the planet millennia ago?"
"That's right," she sounded surprised, "How did you know?"
"I heard it somewhere. In the lab, I think. Anyway," he waved it away as not important, "You have something to tell me, something that involves being part-Cetra."
"Well, Cetras had a different relationship with the planet than other people, normal people." He made an encouraging noise. "Sometimes it talks to me," she paused, waiting to be mocked but Zack just grunted for her to continue. "Okay. Well. This morning I was in my garden and I heard something. It was actually quite strong. Actually, it seemed to be a lot of voices combining to say the same thing so I heard it pretty clear. It was a message and I think I'm supposed to give it to you."
"Sure, not a problem. I'm listening."
"You believe me? That the planet is, you know, using me to pass messages to you like a secretary or something."
"Well, ya-ah. Of course I fucking believe you. Sorry." He thought of a small, blond boy in footie PJs and friends who visited him in test tubes and party rooms and told him not to give up his honour. He laughed lightly, "I have so much to tell you, babe. It's been a weird three years. Wait. You said you were in your garden. Like with 'green things'."
"They're called 'plants', Zack." She giggled, all her painful hesitancy erased like it had never been.
"Green, plant things that you make… grow." Zack shook his head at the bizarre turn his day had taken. She was Raincloud's 'Growing Lady'. At least that was one metaphoric brain-puzzler solved.
He could feel her smile even if he couldn't see it. "That's generally what you do with plants, unless, of course, you eat them. Did you want the message?"
He covered his eyes, "Might as well."
"The voices said 'the Planet's Jewels can stop the Heaven's Stone, but the Squire needs to fight the End Weapon'." She stopped. He waited.
"That's it?"
"Yup." Silence.
"The Planet's Jewels can stop the Heaven's Stone, but the Squire needs to fight the End Weapon."
"Right," she confirmed.
He sighed, heavy and deep. "Shit... sorry. More metaphors," They were fucking swarming him. He massaged his temple. He was sure he had a headache coming on.
Aerith was laughing, teasing and comforting at the same time. "Poor Zack. As the See-er you get all the strange messages and have to figure them out."
"Too right," he agreed. Why couldn't he be surrounded by deathclaws, or strange bugs, or something he could kick the ever-lovin' shit out of? "Wait. What did you call me?"
Whatever she might have said was lost under a huge, hollow boom that echoed through the camp. His curiosity disappeared as he snapped alert. He straightened, eyes searching, trying to locate the source of the explosion. Had a heating fuel unit gone up or something? There was a flash to the south and the boom sounded again. What was to the south, he asked himself, quickly reviewing the camp plans he'd glanced at earlier. The landing strip was there.
Tifa and the undead dude, Vinny, were supposed to be sparring at the airfield. Another flash, another boom. Fuck sparring, he decided, they were under attack.
"Doll, I gotta go. I promise I'll remember what you said and I'll try to make sense of it. You take care of yourself okay?" He barely waited for her assurance before closing the PHS and pocketing it. He was already running into the tent to collect the Buster. "You," he pointed to one of the techno-grunts, "The airfield's under attack. Inform whoever you need to and get them to activate the alarm. Kunsel," he pointed at the door to Sephiroth's private quarters, "make sure they're not disturbed. They've got until noon, make sure they get all that time."
"What?" The Second was astonished. The camp was under attack and they weren't going to wake the General?
"I know it sounds odd but, if they get disturbed now, I'm not sure Cloud will ever make it back. So nobody disturbs them. I don't care if it's Odin himself, okay?" He waited until Kunsel nodded acceptance. He gave his friend's arm a whack. "Thanks, man." Then it was grab the Buster and run to the field and hope to all the gods that he wasn't getting all panicked over a little sparring match.
Their light practice session had turned into a full out, full contact contest. Tifa was small but strong. Her moves were smooth and her hits were powerful. Vincent's moves were ordinary but he was much, much faster than she was. She preferred her fists, he preferred his feet. They were both trained and determined. The airfield was barely large enough to contain them, especially once the word spread throughout the camp and the crowd started gathering.
The two warriors barely noticed their audience. The longer the 'sparring' had gone on, the more their focus had concentrated on each other. The gunman had a smear of dried blood on his cheek where she'd managed to land a good, solid hit and the clasp on his collar had broken the skin. They'd stopped once for Tifa to use her Cure on her ribs, damaged when Vincent accidently tossed her onto an exposed tree root. Aside from that the contest had been almost constant. Brief pauses between engagements were all they'd given themselves, both of them enjoying themselves too much.
Of course they had an audience. Off duty personnel, or those who managed to sneak away, lined the edge of the field next to the camp. Most of the betting had started out on Tifa's side. Many of the soldiers had fought with her and seen her in action and most of the rest had at least heard of her abilities. Nobody really knew what the spooky ex-Turk was capable of. As the fight went on with neither of the combatants dominating the odds became more even, and the post-bout dissections more intense.
It was just as well the watching crowd didn't know that Vincent wasn't using all of his abilities.
Despite her assurances, Tifa was still human. If he'd allowed himself full use of all his enhancements; innate or one of his beast's, she would have been much worse off than a couple damaged ribs. Still, she was far tougher than he'd originally thought and far stronger than his second assessment had led him to believe. So he was using more of himself. He was letting some his unnatural speed and enhanced senses give him a bit of an edge, making her work for every win but he couldn't relax completely because Chaos was enjoying this far too much. The demon was enjoying it because Tifa was enjoying it and that kind of joy in mayhem was bound to appeal to a creature who called himself 'Chaos'.
As if she knew they were thinking about her, Tifa gave a wide, happy smile. She had a large, ugly bruise forming on her jaw from where his heel had connected in the last round. She didn't care. Her smile reminded Vincent of Lucrecia in the early days, before guilt had given her a haunted look.
*This one is nothing like that hypocritical, female,* Chaos sneered, *This one wouldn't get involved with a male who didn't value her as he should.*
Comments like that, simple compliments, honest admiration from the demon for the dark-eyed fighter, were part of the reason that Tifa had managed to get past his guard. He wasn't used to hearing such things from the creature. It made him worried. What Chaos liked, Chaos usually took.
She ran at him, sliding the last few steps, forcing him to jump over her. She was expecting that and Vincent barely had time to duck the flying kick that she aimed at his head. He turned his dodge into a back flip which forced her to bend back to avoid getting caught on the chin, once again, by his fast moving feet. She managed to catch his ankle so she twisted it and he had to spin with it or risk a dislocated ankle. As he spun he managed to clip her shoulder with his free leg and knocked her to the ground. As she still had hold of his foot, she pulled him down with her but she'd hit the ground first and had therefore lost the round. Tifa rolled to her feet first so she extended her hand to Vincent. He no longer thought it odd that the small fighter could pull the much taller gunman to his feet.
There was cheering and jeering from the crowd as the people calculated what they'd won or lost. The noise and movement nearly covered a 'snap' like a thunderclap. For a moment the air felt odd, pressurized and, for a moment, it seemed darker than it should. Silence fell on the crowd except for one person who clapped and laughed but not in enjoyment, this was a harsh, mocking sound. Both he and Tifa spun to face whoever was approaching.
There were two coming toward them: a huge, over-muscled man with steel-blue hair and blue lines on his face, and a slim woman with red hair and red eyes. It was the woman who was clapping but the big man had a mocking sneer on his slab-like face. The way they walked showed that they were used to using their bodies as weapons.
"Damn," Tifa muttered, "Tsviets. How did they get here?"
Vincent heard her of course and he looked at the warriors the soldiers in camp had talked about with awe and fear. These were Deepground's elite warriors. It was obvious they'd been altered. If their unnaturally glowing eyes and armour weren't enough of a clue, then all he needed to see was the man's huge size and the female's knife-like fingernails.
It was the woman who started the conversation. She sauntered closer, flashing long slim legs in improbably high boots whose heels could be used as weapons in their own right. "So you're Vincent Valentine. Keeper of the Protomateria." She had an accent he'd never heard before, husky and slow. She was shaped, and acted, like deadly sin, like some of the female Turks he'd known before. The ones who would kiss you deeply while sliding the knife in under the ribs and up to the heart. He'd never been attracted to that type. Lucrecia's child-like wonder had been much more to his liking.
*This once, I will allow that to be a good thing,* commented his resident demon.
He backed away. "Protomateria?" he asked loudly. Lucrecia's notes had mentioned the substance but hadn't really explained what it was. If this pair knew anything more about it he had to try and discover it.
"That's Rosso the Crimson," Tifa whispered, "Likes fire. Uses a bowgun with bladed wings. Good mêlée fighter. Very fast. Likes pain and blood, even her own."
The big one spoke, "Just as I thought. You are ignorant of your own destiny." His voice was growly and slurred. It was hard to understand what he was saying—the contempt was very clear.
"Azul the Cerulean," Tifa informed him under her breath, "Former ShinRa army and SOLDIER candidate. He likes really big guns. Rumour is, if he takes enough damage or gets pissed off, he turns into a mini-behemoth."
*A behemoth. I haven't fought one of those before,* Chaos sounded cheerful. Vincent told it to be quiet and let him concentrate. They would be fighting these two; they needed to assess them for weaknesses.
The Deepground elites were moving forward. Vincent kept backing away and noticed that Tifa moved with him. He was both glad and afraid that she would be fighting with him: glad, because she was an exceptional fighter; and afraid, because these two would not hold back. They would hurt her, even kill her, if it achieved their purpose. Actually, the two Tsviets looked like they would plow through a thousand warriors just for the fun of it. It was a good thing that Tifa was waving away the soldiers in the crowd who looked ready to attack, guns blazing. No need to bring their attention to the vulnerable crowd.
"He may be ignorant," Rosso agreed with her companion, "but that is good here, no? Even though I like a little spice with my meal sometimes it's better just to eat it raw." She laughed and Vincent realized that she was completely insane. She also reminded him of Chaos a little which was a disturbing thought.
"What is protomateria," he asked again.
Rosso the Crimson tapped her cheek with one long finger, tilting her head flirtatiously. "Protomateria is the key to controlling Omega." Chaos roused at the mention of Omega. The creature knew that it was somehow bound to Omega but the how's and why's were lost in the millennia of years since he'd been created. "We know you have it."
"Deepground knows or Hojo?" he asked loudly. "Can we take them?" he whispered to Tifa.
"Does it matter, my dove?" Rosso flicked her long fingernails and looked predatory. "Hand it over now, and I'll kill you quickly. I'll even be kind and let the female live."
"Probably not," Tifa whispered back, giving him the answer he expected. This pair was murderously dangerous.
The innocent crowd, gathered to watch a fight was dispersing or organizing, depending on their training. From what Tifa had just said, they would need more trained soldiers to fight these two. There were SOLDIERs here, like Sephiroth who was apparently the best fighter ever seen on Gaia. All he had to do was keep these mutants talking until they showed up. He needed to buy more time.
"What does Deepground want with Omega?" he asked, hoping for a Hojo-type rant about 'inspired purpose' and 'grand vision'. Instead, Rosso shrugged.
"I don't know and to be honest, I don't care." She waved her hand casually, as if brushing away a fly.
"What?" He was shocked by her attitude. Although, maybe he shouldn't be; Hojo had never encouraged his flunkies to question his orders or his purpose.
"This is what Weiss desires," Azul stated,
"What Weiss orders, we do. It is very simple. Hail Weiss," the female said. She was smiling lazily and her tone was bored rather than reverent.
"If he desires the awakening of Omega, then that is what all of Deepground desires," Azul continued.
Rosso laughed in sick delight, "It is not every day you are granted the chance to cleanse the world of all life."
"Enough talking," Azul interrupted, "Give us the protomateria and live."
Even if he knew what or where the stuff was, Vincent wasn't inclined to hand it over. It would be a fight for real this time. He could feel Chaos smiling in anticipation. "No."
Rosso laughed, also happy at prospect of violence, "Not one to bargain, are we? Then I'll make sure you suffer—that you all suffer."
Azul's declaration was simpler, "Time to die." Suddenly a huge gun, resembling the cannon usually found on a tank, appeared in the big man's hands. Between appearance and shooting there was barely a heartbeat. Vincent jumped up and over the fired rounds. He drew Outsider, cursing that he hadn't taken the time to practice with it, and began returning fire. His bullets were impacting, he could see the entry wounds forming and a strange purple liquid that must be his blood, but it had little effect. They barely made the altered fighter grunt.
Tifa dove to the side, coming up from the roll braced and ready to fight which was good because Rosso the Crimson was right in front of her, bladed bowgun slicing toward her face. The Tsviet was sloppy though, and left herself open. Instead of blocking Tifa dropped to the ground and kicked up with all her strength. She caught Rosso the Crimson in the stomach and lifted the female off her feet, throwing her back.
She jumped up with a twist and posed nonchalantly, "Oh, I do like them spicy." Her words were unconcerned but her red eyes were flashing. She moved back to the attack. This time the Deepground warrior didn't underestimate her human opponent.
There was nothing Vincent could do to help the dark-eyed fighter because Azul was not to be ignored. Not only did he wield the big cannon as if it were a stick, but he was quicker than a man his size should be. The Tsviet lifted the gun and brought it down with a hollow boom. Shock waves rolled out from the impact sight and the ex-Turk was forced to borrow powers from his beasts to jump up and over them. Vincent saw some of the ground troops lift their assault rifles, getting ready to fire. He instantly knew it would be both disastrous and futile. From up here, he could already see an unnaturally fast fighter running towards them. He borrowed some more power and ordered, "WAIT FOR THE SOLDIERS. PROTECT THE CAMP."
He kept firing as he dropped back to the ground, firing and reloading, dodging Azul's gunfire and waiting for backup. He'd seen Tifa, while he'd been in the air. She was a strong fighter, and she was doing well against the female Tsviet, but she'd already been sparring with Vincent for nearly an hour. Rosso the Crimson's elaborate outfit was getting torn and ragged, but she had no serious damage. She still laughed and moved as fast as she had at the start of the fight. Tifa had blood running from a nasty slice on her left arm, and her leather vest was dangling low on one side where it had nearly been cut off. The mountain girl was simply no match for the Tsviet's altered body and enhanced speed.
She would actually be of more use against Azul who was tough but slow. Vincent reloaded and continued to fire round after round into the huge man. He wished that he hadn't taken off his sabatons; the boots' elongated, brass toes were impressive weapons in their own right. Plus, he may be the result of years of experimentation, but pointy stones still hurt his feet.
*I can't believe you're whining about something so small. Oh how delightful you are, my host,* Chaos laughed. Then added in a completely different tone, *The creature's shield is weakened in the SSW facet.* Vincent obediently altered his aim.
"This is how a battle should be. Don't you think?" Azul commented, but didn't wait for an answer which was good as Vincent had no intention of responding. "Two warriors facing each other. Stripping away the surface to expose the essence of who they are. Do you know who you are, Vincent Valentine?"
Vincent wished the large man would be quiet. That kind of bravado and posturing had never been his style. Besides killing exposed nothing of the person inside; as a former Turk he knew too well how a smiling face could be as true as the emotionless
*He is very annoying. It would please me greatly, my immortalis, if you just let me kill him.*
Vincent ignored them both and asked his own questions instead. "How did you know I was here? Why do you think I have what you need?" he asked, voice calm and unhurried, "What is your purpose?" These two mutated warriors had appeared in the middle of a busy army camp and their only goal seemed to be to get something from him.
"The Deepground soldiers were born and bred to kill." Azul charged forward and lashed out with one huge boot. Vincent was forced to dodge and run. "We were chained to a destiny of servitude. All that we desire is to fulfill the destiny that is writ for Weiss. Hail Weiss." Another slam of the gun into the ground, another rolling shock wave, another deafening boom. "Nothing will be allowed to interfere with that. Not even you, Vincent Valentine."
"CLEAR A PATH!"
The voice was easily heard over the noise of the crowd, the guns, and the impact of flesh on flesh. The shout and the movement pulled attention to the side of the battlefield where gawkers, medics and troopers dove left and right to open up a trail. Charging through them was the dark-haired SOLDIER that Sephiroth had rescued yesterday. From where he stood, half the field away, Vincent could see the mako blazing blue in his eyes, so bright they were almost blinding. They only slightly overwhelmed the First's wide grin.
*Well,* Chaos hummed, *Isn't this an interesting addition to the battle.* Chaos liked Zack Fair. He'd added an element of playful randomness to their encounter with the spider guard back in the mansion. Chaos could admire that. Plus, apparently, the SOLDIER had a nice ass. An observation the demon had added just to enjoy Vincent's discomfort.
Zack barely paused before rushing Azul. The big Tsviet didn't have time to aim his huge gun or dodge out of the way before the SOLDIER ran his Buster sword along his arm and opened up muscles and tendons. The limb was now useless and unable to hold the cannon. It dropped to the ground just like Zack had hoped. He spun and swung the large blade at the barrel and sliced it into pieces. Once again, he thanked Angeal's father who had spared no expense when ordering the sword for his only son.
It only took him moments to dismember Huge Blue's gun but in that short period of time the Deepground elite's arm had stopped bleeding—if that indigo blue stuff was blood, and began to seal itself back up. Mutant healing at its finest thanks to nutjobs like Hojo, Zack thought bitterly.
He felt the air shift behind him and flipped the Buster to guard his back. Good thing, because the other one was attacking him with that of bladed crossbow thingy she used. Before she could regroup from his block, he spun and punched her in the face. She obviously wasn't expecting that because she let out a shriek of outrage even as she staggered back.
Zack had to take a moment to appreciate her costume... or lack of it. Holy shit would he love to see Aerith in something like that! Of course, she looked like a slutty evil pirate wench or something but still... Maybe just the boots would be enough. He'd definitely have to see about getting a pair of those boots for his flower girl once he was back in Junon.
"Zack, she's not a prospective girlfriend!" Tifa called, "Focus here."
He ducked under Azul's punch, not even having to see the big man move to know what he was doing. Fuck, he really needed to control his mouth. "Who do you want to take out first?" he called back
"Rosso," Tifa called.
Zack wondered why—Azul had pulled out a smaller, but still bigger than a small tree, laser weapon and was tearing up the airstrip with it, but then the Mutant Pirate Wench shifted into some kind of hyper-haste mode, and became almost impossible to detect. She closed in on the dark-eyed fighter in a spinning blur. From Tifa's stance, Zack figured she didn't know that the Tsviet was targeting her. He wasn't sure how he knew but he could feel the wacko's movement through the air. He had to stop the Tsviet before she sliced up the small fighter. Cloud would never forgive him if something happened to his first crush. Mind you, he wouldn't be too happy with himself either.
He used his own enhanced speed to intercept the Tsviet. He brought up his blade and slammed it into the wings of her bowgun. Not what he'd been aiming for but Rosso managed to bring the weapon down to protect her mostly exposed belly. Still the force of his swing was enough to knock her back several meters. He kept his eyes on Mutant Pirate Wench but still alert to any change in the Huge Blue's position. However, Vinny seemed to be keeping him occupied. He could hear the steady discharge of the creepy dude's weapon: six shots, pause to reload, six shots, pause to reload. The man was a fucking machine.
"I have no mechanical parts," Vincent said dismissively even as he ignored Chaos' delighted chortle. Azul shot out another sizzling laser and Vincent was forced to dodge over and around it. The action didn't alter his rate of fire.
Shitpissfuck, Zack cursed—hopefully to himself. He really needed to learn how not to spew every thought in his head out of his mouth. "You okay Tifa?" he asked, deciding to change the subject.
"Doing okay," she said calmly even as he felt her cast a Cura on herself. Zack had to smile a little. This Tifa Lockhart was eons away from the spoiled little Mayor's daughter he'd met before.
"Foolish boy," their opponent called, "Your actions will have no effect on this battle. You have sacrificed yourself in vain." Her voice was weird, like she was forcing it lower and huskier than it should be. "Do you know who I am?"
"Well... I'm calling you 'Mutant Pirate Wench' but that's probably not correct." He didn't let her comment, "Look, before somebody gets killed, can you tell me where you got those boots? I seriously think they'd look totally hot on my girlfriend."
Vincent was close enough for Chaos to overhear Zack's taunting. *You know, my host, the lab rat has a certain sense of style that you lack.* Vincent ignored it and continued shooting. *Of course, this 'Azul' isn't dressed as provocatively as the red one. It would be harder to make salacious comments about his attire.* Vincent decided that sighing plaintively had no place on the battlefield.
"Idiot!" the Deepground warrior yelled at Zack, thoroughly pissed now. Her eyes blazed. "I am Rosso the Crimson! I have bathed in the blood of a thousand soldiers. I enjoyed it. I revelled in it."
"Okay, Mutant Crazy Wench. Still doesn't tell me where you got those boots." She was powering up for the attack, taking it to the next level. Zack could feel her energy bump up a notch. "Tifa," he said quietly, "Go help Vincent."
Maybe she would've argued but there was something in the First's voice that wouldn't allow her to. "Got it."
"I am not a pirate nor a wench!" She was practically vibrating in anger, "I am Tsviet! I am Rosso the Crimson." Rosso was so focussed on Zack, at glaring holes in him and shooting at him rapid-fire, that she barely noticed when Tifa moved away, which was exactly what Zack had counted on. Everything he'd read about the Tsviets talked about huge egos and the inability to turn down a challenge. He'd just dismissed her power as negligible by harping on her boots. No way a crazy chick like her would be able to forgive that. She would concentrate on Zack, trying to 'teach him a lesson' and Tifa and Vin could work on wearing down the big guy's defences.
He grinned and bounced on his toes, both to irritate the Tsviet and because, y'know, it really was fun, certainly better than doing paperwork and drinking bad coffee. He knew what he looked like when he did this, he'd been told by plenty of people plenty of times, and it was amazing how many bad guys underestimated him because he looked like an eager puppy. Since Rosso the Crimson Wench was supposed to be a powerhouse, he'd take any advantage he could get.
And he sure as fuck hoped he'd remembered to keep his mouth shut while he was thinking all that.
"Do you know why they call me 'the Crimson', darling?" she sneered, stalking over the field like a hunting cat, "Let me show you!"
As he expected she attacked. Unfortunately, she didn't come at him directly but shot fire... disk... thingies out of her bowgun. They were easy enough to dodge but they continued on their trajectory which meant they were heading into the crowd of regular soldiers. They were unenhanced so, even if they could dive out of the way in time—which they couldn't, their fragile bodies would be incinerated.
"Yes they will, darling. What shall the little lapdog do?" she mocked and moved to the attack, thinking her opponent's attention would be split. It wasn't. Zack had jumped up over the last fire shot and he'd seen the ripple of movement that signalled the arrival of the other SOLDIERs. They moved to the front of the crowd and immediately began deflecting Rosso's magical ammo with their materia and weapons.
Of course, sometimes deflections were just as dangerous as the original shot.
A fiery disk thing came flying back at them. He jumped, and the shot caught the Crimson Wench right in the chest. She staggered in shock. Zack focussed himself, coming down with all the power of a Death Blow. Unfortunately, being enhanced didn't mean you could change the Law of Gravity. He didn't fall any faster than any other human and Rosso didn't wait for him to come down. She ran away and got busy shooting more of her fire things at him. He dropped normally, not wasting the power of the strike since she wasn't close enough to be affected, and took after her. She moved in a blur, laughing and shooting at him. He dodged the bullets and followed. She laughed and zipped away again. He did that a couple more times, skirting around Tifa and Vin's fight with Huge Blue in the middle of the airfield.
The SOLDIER couldn't help but notice that Vincent and Tifa made a good attack team. They'd taken positions on opposite sides of the huge Tsviet. The gunman kept up his steady rate of fire wearing holes in Azul's cast shield. When he moved to defend himself against the gunfire, Tifa moved in and, with amazing skill and determination, landed blows that would be powerful enough to kill lesser opponents. She had some pretty fine moves on her. That somersaulting kick while she was in the air had knocked the big guy's head back on his non-existent neck.
She was tiring though.
"We need to end this," he said loud enough for the spooky gunman to hear him.
"Yes!" Vincent called back.
"You could always give us the protomateria, Vincent Valentine," Azul said, "That would end this battle."
"What the fuck is protomateria?" Zack asked bewildered taking the opportunity to slash at the Tsviet in passing. He sliced to the bone on the guy's leg but it hardly slowed him down.
"They've been unclear," Vincent said. "The key to controlling Omega," Tifa added.
"And this concerns us... how?" Wait, Omega... that was sparking something in his brain.
"I don't know," Tifa responded, jumping back out of range of Azul's tree root sized fists, "but they want it and they think Vincent has it." Rosso chose that moment to sweep in to attack the dark-eyed fighter. Zack leapt forward in a fancy Assault Twister he'd learned from Genesis. He didn't think it would connect but it would force the Crimson Wench away from Tifa. Sure enough, Rosso laughed and easily avoided the move.
"Worry about it later," Vincent instructed. The ex-Turk rolled away from a beam fired from Azul's weapon yet continuing his steady patter of six shots, reload; six shots, reload. Vincent hadn't run out of bullets yet—maybe he manufactured them under his cloak. The big guy lifted his weapon and thumped the ground with it again. Everyone, even his fellow DGS member, was forced to jump to avoid the shock waves.
At least, they were getting help from the troopers at the side of the battleground. They were being careful of their targets, aiming with care to avoid hitting the trio of fighters facing down the Tsviets. Zack was impressed with their discipline—he could tell these guys had trained under Sephiroth, but he was less happy with the effect of their fire. Neither of the bad guys seemed to even notice being hit. The SOLDIERs castings had more effect. The Seconds were using Poison and Dispels and whatever else they had in their arsenals. It was helpful, but not likely to end the contest. He knew why they were limiting themselves to passive materia; they couldn't risk hitting Vincent, Tifa or himself by a badly cast elemental attack. So best case scenario, the contest would come down to brute strength and endurance.
Zack heard the distinctive cough of a heavy-calibre sniper rifle from somewhere in the camp. He knew it was a big gun because Rosso was knocked back a couple steps and a hole appeared in her shoulder. It was already sealing itself up even as she turned to shoot a couple revenge shots into the mass of vulnerable troops. He stopped moving and let himself pant a bit.
"You know, Rosso the Crimson Wench, I wasn't impressed by you before but, anybody who can move as fast as you do in boots like those, deserves some respect." Then he grinned at her.
"Zevzec!" she shouted and shot at him instead.
Great—bullets he didn't mind, but now she was swearing at him in another language. How very rude... and he didn't care if he'd said that out loud. He probably had because she swore at him some more and shot at him a couple times. Then they chased each other around the field a few more times; Rosso retreating every time Zack got close. He was getting really fucking tired of this. He needed a different plan. Zack absently dodged Rosso's bullets but stayed where he was on the field while he thought.
From his corner of the battlefield, Vincent had been keeping an eye on the dark-haired First's contest with the female Tsviet. He wasn't impressed, running after her as if this was some kind of sprinting contest. It was inefficient, but Tifa trusted the man to deal with Rosso the Crimson so Vincent wouldn't interfere... yet
*Oh come now, my immortalis, I find him quite adorable. The way his thoughts fall out of his mouth is very... chaotic, don't you think?* First Tifa, now Zack. Chaos really didn't have any preferences when it came to who, or what, it was attracted to.
"Are you tired, little SOLDIER?" Rosso taunted, "Can't keep up to a mere female?"
Zack didn't even bother to respond verbally, he just blew her a kiss. He wasn't tired but he was pissed. She obviously wouldn't mind running around this stupid field until the End of Days, and it was also obvious that he couldn't catch her, even in those stupid boots. Fuckin' mutant Haste, he growled.
He blocked Rosso's shots automatically while he did another quick visual to check on how Tifa and Vin were doing against the blue Tsviet. They were okay but there was something about that Azul that made his hair stand up, a vibration or some change in the air around him. Huge Blue was building up to something and it probably wasn't going to be nice. Another sick mutated fucker.
Well he had his own mutations and it sure as shit was time to use them.