Part II Chapter VII

The marshes, Sephiroth decided, were not a fun place to be. He'd never really paid attention to the small, murky swath of land between the Chocobo Farm and the Mythril Mines. He'd never actually had to travel through it, being the general, he was saved the long, hard trek over plains and through caves by being flown directly over the mountains. It was not something he missed doing, not if the heavy, murky air and constant insect pests were any indication. Sephiroth swatted at a particularly annoying bug, quite annoyed that the pests seemed drawn to the bright silver sheen of his hair. The soft mud squelched beneath his heavy boots, the brown dirt clinging to the formerly spotless black leather. Behind him he could hear similar sounds from his silent, somewhat downtrodden squad, following behind him like a bunch of chicabos toddling after their mother.

Sephiroth couldn't help the small snort at that mental image, thinking back to the birds they'd left in the care of one Chocobo Bill, the owner of the Chocobo Ranch. He was sure the cadets were cursing his decision, probably considering it an act of personal torture. Sephiroth had entertained such ideas himself; he did not enjoy plodding through ankle deep mud, or needing to tie up his hair to avoid it getting caught in small, but painful, bushes. Unfortunately, chocobos were quite expensive, and since half the birds were rented they couldn't afford the death or injury of one of the animals during this test.

There'd been no sign of their target, nothing besides broken trees and large grooves left in the mud; an obvious sign to the snake's passing. On the whole the cadets didn't seem to notice the implication of the huge track, Cloud gave it a second look, but Sephiroth never could exactly read that boy's thoughts so he didn't know if he'd realized just what it was.

His thoughts were pulled away from the cadets, spreading his awareness out as much as possible to keep on the lookout for their prey. His sense of smell, although more powerful than that of a normal person, would not be much help this time. The putrid smell of rotting plants seemed to permeate the marshes, along with something that reminded him vaguely of rotting flesh…the Zolom had probably left a meal lying around somewhere. Either that, or it was an unfortunate traveler that'd gotten caught in the sticky fingers of the marshes.

Sound didn't have much to report either, aside from the expected thrum of insects buzzing lightly through the air, there was only the ever present sucking sound of a boot being pulled out of the mud, followed by the earlier mentioned 'squelch' of it sinking as soon as the step was taken. Sight wasn't helping much either, he could see nothing but miles of hazy marshland, flat and featureless unless one counted the sparse spattering of dead trees or the knee-high marsh-grasses.

Unfortunately all they had left to go on was the huge furrow they were currently trekking trough, Sephiroth figured it would lead them to the beast eventually. Either that or the sound of their passing would do the work for them and seduce the insatiable appetite that all wild monsters seemed to share.

Yamir had taken up the rear guard, one pale hand hovering near his short-sword at his side—or was it the gun that was holstered in nearly the exact same place? Sephiroth could see the tension in the unspoken squad-leader's movements, ever on the alert…

'He has a leader's air.' Sephiroth mused, using this chance to observe the cadets, 'Instinctive probably. A rare trait. The others noticed it earlier and deferred to it.'

Strife was next in line, situated a little to the left of the right-handed Yamir and talking to the Wutaian in a low, whispering voice. Sephiroth could have heard the words if he so desired, but decided to let the cadets have their secrets. He turned a critical eye on the blonde's stance. It was loose, and to a lesser man would have seemed completely off-guard. But he saw, he saw the readiness thrumming in every motion made. Strapped to his back was a smaller version of Zack's favored sword, apparently the use of the over-large blades had been passed from teacher to pupil.

'He's so much like Zack…' Not just in choice of weapons either, but in the way he carried himself, and even a couple mannerisms he'd observed on the trip from Midgar to the Marshes. He wondered if Zack realized just how much he'd affected his student—probably not. Zack, although he had his moments, was not the most observant of the bunch, usually letting other people do the watching while he did the talking. 'Yet different. Strife hardly speaks, and when he does, it is never the unnecessary prattle that spouts from Zachary."

First in the little gaggle of ducklings, Bedros was nearly overflowing with nervous energy, alternating between jogging up directly behind Sephiroth and lagging back to the other two cadets. He was constantly cracking his knuckles, even going so far as to throw a few phantom punches in the air. Sephiroth figured that his main weapon was his fists, judging by the leather gloves pulled over his fists, and just the anxious display—

"It's here.'

Strife's soft yet sure voice mirrored the general's thoughts exactly, just before the ground behind them exploded, raining chunks of mud and streams of water down on the small group.

Sephiroth drew back, letting the small squad of three assemble to confront the monster looming above them. The General stood silent, arms crossed, green eyes locked on the black silhouette that would determine the fate of the trio of boys who stood in its shadow. The snake, what Cloud had called the Midgar Zolom, swayed, standing nearly twelve feet in the air—twice as tall as Sephiroth himself. The cadets couldn't see it, but enhanced eyes could, the Zolom was testing the air, long serpentine tongue flickering in and out of a scaled jaw, drawing in all the information available to it.

Sephiroth snorted, shaking his head a little. If he'd been the one taking on this monster it would not last very long to decapitate it. His seasoned eyes easily picked up on the Zolom's weak spots; the softer hide on the underside of the jaw and neck, although the more reachable underbelly was covered in what seemed to be heavily armored scales. All it would take would be something sharp driven right up through the jaw and into the brain, instant kill.

Of course, he couldn't tell the cadets that.

"Now's your chance." He told them, raising his voice to be heard above the constant hissing emanating from the snake, "Remember your objectives."

A chorus of 'yes-sirs' around the group.

-

Preeeey. It smelt prey. The two-legged ones again—why do they keep invading its territory? Food! To be food. All existed to be its food.

Unable to stand the hunger any longer, the snake lunged, throwing all of its bulk forward as it snapped at the humans before it. Great jaws met air as they scattered, and the snake hissed in agitation—how dare the prey resist!? Yellow reptilian eyes watched as the little ones took up positions both beside and in front of the large body, weapons at the ready. A word from the black-haired one had them throwing themselves at the Zolom, weapons clashing uselessly against its protective scales. The snake watched the proceedings with amusement, a deep rumbling in its chest the only way to show the emotion. It swatted at the nearest human with its long tail, knocking the smallest into the black-haired one and leaving them an easy target for snapping teeth.

Not one to miss an opportunity, the monster lunged, almost lightning fast as it moved toward the pile of black and yellow that shone like a beacon in the grey swamp. Just as it was about to close its jaws, trapping the two children inside, it felt its jaws caught by something, a brown blur dancing in front of its eyes and then the teeth snapped shut, closing on empty air one more.

Infuriated, it reared back again, eyes roving for the snack that should be on its way to be digested by now. At length it spotted them again, they were joined by the third child, and the black one was speaking again. The Zolom could easily hear the sounds made, but cared little for the squeals made by its prey.

Even if it was annoying prey.

Suddenly something hot and burning hit it in the side of the snout, causing the great head to rear back in surprise and more than a little confusion. Was it raining fire? It wasn't painful, just uncomfortable, especially when it was followed almost immediately by freezing cold and a stinging shock. The snake hissed in annoyance, its tail thrashing and throwing up mud around it. As the prey ducked to avoid the falling dirt and a few broken tree-limbs that had been thrown into the mix the strange attack abated, and its source was suddenly made clear to the semi-intelligent monster. The prey threw fire at it? Lightning and ice? Why? How?

Why? Why was the prey resisting so?

-

'So materia is no good.' Nayan filed the thought away, remembering how the magic seemed to merely tickle the gigantic beast. Normal attacks hadn't done anything either, except leave them open for a counterattack. The Wutaian boy grimaced, remembering the attack that would have ended his life and that of his teammate—Cloud, he thought—if it weren't for the astonishing speed and strength that Damon had shown when dragging them out of the there, tossing off a set of weights and reaching a speed that Nayan thought was only achieved through mako enhancement.

Regardless, they had shifted attack patterns, deciding to circle through their different weapons until they found something that would do more than annoy the monster. Nayan lightly touched the sense materia nestled in his pistol each time one of his teammates threw one of their spells at it, judging just how badly it was hurt each time. The results were disheartening, the main elemental spells they had were nothing more than a light sting, and the status magic did nothing more than tickle it.

Black eyes glanced behind him, alighting on the General that still stood off to the side a bit, watching the fighting with an appraising eye. Did he expect them, three cadets who have only been in training for a year, to take down a monster of the level before them? This so-called Midgar Zolom was far more powerful than anything that Nayan had ever fought before, and that included the SOLDIER Third class that he'd often sparred with during his spare time. The Wutaian boy was anything but humble, and knew full well that he was far more powerful than the average cadet…

Yet the beast before him wasn't even flinching. It was just yawning and showing the wickedly sharp fangs that had almost closed around him once before, sending a stream of cold dread running through him, just as the poison likely slowly dripped down the long fangs.

An idea came to mind, and Nayan shot at the creature's eyes, hoping to blind it in an attempt to buy his team time. Cloud and Bedros were carefully checking each area of the snake's body for any kind of weak point, dodging the monster's slow, but heavy bulk. If he could blind the snake, it might rear up, and give them ample opportunity to see if the underbelly was any easier to pierce through.

Unfortunately, the beast merely blinked when the bullets came too near, covering the soft optical organ with much harder, and near bullet proof hide. Nayan groaned in frustration, and maybe even a little bit of fear. In terms of strength, they were behind. The monster seemed to be at least somewhat intelligent as well, so there was no way of turning its stupidity back around at it. It was even immune (or so it seemed by the lack of reaction that came from the low-leveled materia they'd brought along) to all the spells within their arsenal! They were way outclassed, so how could they be expected to kill this thing!?

And then, all of a sudden, the General's words came back to him, pulling forward the instructions that had been tossed aside by the cocky boy's disbelief. A small smile crept onto his face.

They didn't necessarily have to beat it. Just discover its weak point.

With a shout and a hand motion, Nayan drew in both Cloud and Damon, keeping half an eye on the snake as he outlined what he'd just discovered, almost missing the knowing look cross the blonde cadet's face. Had he known? If so, then why hadn't he brought it up?

--

Sephiroth nodded in satisfaction once the three broke apart again. They finally understood.

--

The prey was just being a pest now, why wouldn't it just hurry up and allow itself to be eaten? Most other prey gave in by now, and it was leading the snake to believe they were more trouble than they were worth. It probably could have caught a dozen other meals by now; been sated and sleeping contently in its den during the amount of time it had been trying to catch the three pests. They weren't even large pests, small and skinny, and probably not filling enough to be worth the trouble—it was even hungrier than it used to be!

It eyed the three humans distastefully, weighing the pros and cons of continuing the battle. Sure it was hungry, but was it worth the trouble the trio was giving it? The snake took in a quick survey of the surrounding area, wondering if there was any easier prey.

There, hiding behind the three annoyances was another human. This one was a lot greyer, taller, and just overall older than the little ones. It was leaning on what looked like a shining stick, which was plunged into the muddy swampland that made up its home. The Zolom's limited intelligence quickly categorized the unknown male as an elder, probably defenseless due to the protective intensity portrayed by the three younglings.

The elder would be a much better target.

--

It all happened so fast. One second the thrice be-damned snake was trying to make mincemeat out of the three cadets, and then the next it was suddenly lunging away, making for a completely different, unexpected target.

"Sir!" Yamir yelled, the first to notice the snake converging on the distant silver and black watcher that was the General of ShinRa's armed forces. The other two cadets started at the yell, but the reation was completely different. While Damon, speed demon that he was, was still trying to figure out the situation, Cloud was already moving. The small blonde was moving with a speed that seemed uncanny while he was carrying the wide, heavy sword. He landed in front of the general just as the large snake neared the man, holding his sword out in an attempted to catch the beast.

The scaled stomach fell abruptly into the ground, spraying water and mud everywhere. Nayan took cover; the large bulk of the monster had smashed into a small thicket of trees and bushes, setting off a set of potentially harmful projectiles because of the speed they were traveling at. The Wutaian lay face down in the mud for a moment, holding his breath as he felt a few stones and pieces of wood dig painfully into his back. He was on his feet as soon as things had settled, wiping the disgusting slime off his face as he ran toward where the General and his teammate were having a staring contest with a snake that was at least twenty-four feet long, from the tip of its snout to the end of the scale covered tail.

The General stood straight and tall, exactly where the boy had seen him last, the only difference was his outstretched arm (his left, Nayan noticed with confusion, didn't the general prefer his right?) that held the bottom of the Zolom's jaw in a tight grip, not allowing the enormous reptile to continue its approach. The Zolom was obviously trying, the strain could be seen in its thrashing motions, and once or twice Nayan had to duck or jump to avoid the flailing tail that would most likely knock him unconcious if it caught him unawares.

Cloud still held his ground, sword disappearing behind the beast's armored bulk, and for a moment the Wutaian thought that perhaps the metal had snapped. But coming even with the group revealed the truth—several inches of the mini-buster were embedded into the snake's neck.

--

Several hours later, the mud-covered, exhausted team of cadets could see the gates of Midgar before them. Bedros gave an excited whoop, spurring his chocobo on with a quick kick of his heels. Where he pulled the energy from was anyone's guess, he'd seemed like the living dead since they'd left the marshes. The other two didn't seem to get the extra boost, both slouching in their saddles and letting the slow plodding of the yellow birds carry them in on their own time. A larger black chocobo brought up the rear, the tall man astride the bird still trying to work the mud out of his silver hair, not paying much attention to the approaching city.

Once Strife's near-suicidal charge had discovered the most effective point of weakness on the beast, Sephiroth had sent it packing, knocking it out with a powerful blow to the skull that would probably leave a mark for days upon it waking up again. After leaving the marshes the Wutaian cadet had questioned the general's action. He'd explained that the tacticians would study the report submitted by the squad, and then head out to see if the information recorded would be accurate. Sephiroth snorted softly when he remembered the look of disbelief on Yamir's face, did the cadet really believe that ShinRa would pass them on his word alone? This wasn't necessarily a pass or fail mission like most of the ones were, the objective hadn't been to eliminate this or infiltrate that. They needed to write a report on the monster's attack patterns, its strength readings, immunities, weak points, ect. Only after it had been verified would the board of examiners even glance at Sephiroth's report, which would need to be written on the performance of the team itself, both as individuals and their abilities to work with others.

From what he'd seen, Sephiroth was impressed, the three worked together quite well despite not knowing each other before today. Their individual strengths were quite commendable as well. The battle itself had been well fought, probing each aspect of the usual fighter's arsenal, magic and physical alike, and with no major injuries sustained to any part of the party. The only thing that bothered him about their actions would be Strife's charge to his defense; the recklessness could have cost more than just the minor bruises and muscle strain that the blonde had suffered because of the snake's impact on his sword.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say anything negative about it; the protection of higher-ranked officials was a good trait in a SOLDIER. After all, not every ShinRa executive could handle himself in battle like Sephiroth could. The action had also proven to be the break the cadets had needed to complete their mission, revealing the snake's most vulnerable point when it had nearly spitted itself on Strife's sword. The boy was lucky Sephiroth had been able to catch it and stop the forward motion before it pushed itself further, or Zack's student would be little more than a pile of meat and blood squashed to death under a couple tons of Midgar Zolom.

The general shook his head, remembering exactly how he'd gotten covered head to toe in mud. After a moment of fiddling with it, Sephiroth gave up on removing the long dried clumps of brown from his hair. He couldn't wait until they got back—a shower was sounding pretty good right now. It wasn't that he was vain or anything, but after spending at least an hour covered in swamp water, mud, and whatever else had been decomposing in the mentioned mud and water, the prospect of getting clean was rising rapidly to the top of his priority list. As if reading his thoughts, his chocobo sped up, easily catching up and bypassing the lagging yellow ones ahead of him.

Jenova's sudden movement was a catalyst, because even without prodding from the half-asleep riders, the other birds picked up the pace, trailing the black-feathered bird as she approached the gate. The guard on duty didn't need much cajoling to let the grumpy looking crew inside, and as soon as Sephiroth nearly growled at the man for staring at him he opened the smaller gate and let them in without the word.

Sephiroth heard the soft sound of chocobo talons coming up behind them, and urged Jenova faster. There was a rider approaching, and he didn't want to deal with any more people. He single-handedly herded the birds into the courtyard where he scared a dozing stable boy half to death when he ordered him to help the others with the birds.

Turning away from the quaking boy, the general slid off his own saddle. A quick stretch loosened a few muscles that had begun to stiffen up throughout the long ride before he grabbed Jenova's hanging reigns. A soft tug was all he needed to get the bird's attention, and it was soon plodding along behind him as he led the way into the stable proper. A quick glance behind him saw the stable-boy holding onto the reigns of the two rented birds while Bedros (where did he get the energy?) was trying to coax the other two cadets out of the saddles.

--

Seeing in the half-moon night was little problem for Vincent, his sight allowed him almost perfect vision as long as he had some light to go by. It was because of his sight that he was able to see the shivering of the gate-guard as he brought Sol up to Midgar's outer gate, even as the man tried to hide in the shadows of the gate house.

"A hard night?" He asked once he drew up close enough, drawing the man's attention to his red swathed form. The man sighed and put a hand to his forehead, "A couplea people beat ya inside Valentine. One of them didn't look happy at all. I thought he was going to kill me for a second."

The gunner chuckled, lightly swinging off his chocobo's back. He unhooked a large white bag from Sol's saddle and slung it over his shoulder, digging inside his pocket for the papers that gave him permission to go out on the plains and hunt monsters. The man at the gate waved his hand, having seen and checked the papers many times over the past month since the ex-Turk had begun to hunt outside the city, "Just hurry through Valentine. That girl of yours is probably waiting for you."

Vincent shrugged and nodded his thanks, not bothering to correct the gate-keeper's assumption that Aeris was his. It was a logical assumption, since she was often seen in his company. Every once in a while he even took her on the hunt with him—she was getting quite good with that staff of her's.

The gatekeeper closed the small, chocobo-sized door behind Sol, the locks falling into place with a loud set of clanging noises. The marksman winced slightly as the sound echoed in his ears; he hated how sensitive his hearing was. The only reason he even bothered heading out of the city to hunt was because the claws, fangs, pelts, ect from the monsters on the plains were worth far more than the ones roaming around in the city. Of course, he still did his civic duty and disposed of any he found within the city walls, but they weren't worth much.

As Vincent and Sol approached the chocobo stables, the man paused, narrowing his eyes as he noted activity in the part of the stables that were reserved for ShinRa rented birds. It must have been the party the gate-keeper mentioned, and Vincent made a mental note to avoid them, especially if they were as foul tempered as they'd been made out to be.

The ex-Turk led Sol around to the privatey-owned section of the stables. He found Earl tending to one of the birds about a stall or two away from Sol's spot. The man noticed Vincent soon enough, "'Eya Valentine. Was the huntin' good tonigh'?"

Vincent nodded an affirmative, shifting the white bag on his shoulder, "Better than usual." He dropped the bag in front of Sol's stall with a thump, raising his gloved hand to pet his bird's beak. She nipped lightly at a lock of his hair, returning the gesture before she ambled by, heading into the opened door and directly for the nest of hay and yellow feathers that took up almost the entire back of the space. The Stable-owner chuckled, "Wore her out, huh?"

Vincent shrugged, retrieving his burden and shouldering it once more. He just had one more stop to make before he headed back to the Gainsborough home. The local weapon-smith was always looking for more monster parts, especially the claws and teeth, and he wanted to try and make it over there before the shop closed for the night. He gave a parting wave to Earl, who always made a point to be friendly to him whenever they met so he tried to do the same, before heading on his way.

--

Sephiroth made his way through the stables, heading toward where he'd been told the stable-master was currently looking after one of the newer chocobos. Apparently it wasn't taking well to stable-life, or so one of the workers told him when he's inquired about the owner's whereabouts. He really didn't care about the chocobo, but he needed to inform the owner that they were returning the two rented birds.

Sure enough, after nearly traversing the whole compound, he found the man, speaking with another customer. It was one the general didn't know, probably someone from the private sector who kept birds stabled here. Luckily, the conversation—as one-sided as it seemed to be—was over and soon the red-cloaked man was retreating down the hall. Sephiroth strode forward then, the sound of his boots drawing the quick-hearing of the stable master.

"The test finished, sir?"

"Yes. I just came to inform you that we've returned the chocobos. Your stable-boy has them."

"Good, good. You and Strife took care of yer own?"

A nod.

"Alrigh'. I'll send the bill tomorra' as soon as I check them myself."

They exchanged a few more words, nothing to important, just the owner wringing out some information on the condition of his birds. The man was obsessive when it came to his personal flock—the ones that were rented out—but the general's short report seemed to satisfy him enough to let Sephiroth head out on his way.

Unfortunately, he still had to escort the cadets back, at least until they were within the compound. He half-wished he could just leave them here and head back himself, but he knew the guards on duty would not let them back in the gates unless they had orders (which they didn't, Sephiroth had them) or a pass signed by a person of significant authority (once again, they didn't have) so he was stuck herding the boys back up through the lift, and down the relatively empty back-streets of Upper Midgar.

It was slightly longer this way, but the main streets were crowded since it wasn't quite late enough for the activity to settle down. Most places were still open for at least another hour, and Sephiroth didn't feel like hanging around somewhere until the street was significantly empty to allow them to pass in peace.

They were all silent as the SOLDIER compound came into view, three out of the four too tired to waste the brain-power on talking, and the forth wasn't the most talkative even when someone was trying to talk to him. Sephiroth got them through the gates with little fanfare, handing the guard the exam orders and herding the three boys through the gates. Once the door shut behind him, the silver-haired man turned, "You three are to return to your usual dorms. Not all your squad mates may be back yet—the exam was slotted two days for travel time. If you pass, you'll receive a notice from your CO in about a week's time. If you fail…well…your CO will tell you what to do."

With those final words the General set off on his own, headed for the First Class barracks. He wondered if Zack was back, but decided against dropping in to see his subordinate. If the black-haired SOLDIER was here, and he wanted to know the results, he could find his way to Sephiroth's quarters for a change. Wasn't that how it was supposed to be? The subordinate reporting to the superior?

Sephiroth chuckled to himself.

After a few minutes of walking, he came to hear soft foot-falls behind him. He frowned, listening to the way the boots sounded against the ground, before recognizing them. Really, Strife had a distinctive gait. It was quieter than most, and watching the boy move reminded the general vaguely of the older generation of Turks. Sephiroth remembered thinking that maybe Strife's father had been a Turk and had taught him, but a quick check of the records scrapped that idea. "What do you want Strife?"

The foot-steps stopped, as did Sephiroth. The silver-haired man waited, half-turning to lock eyes with the cadet. As he thought, his shadow had been Strife. The boy looked half-dead on his feet, which led Sephiroth to wonder why the cadet chose to follow him instead of going straight to bed. The faint-mako bright blue eyes looked away for a moment, before the boy lifted his head, a determined edge appearing in his tired stance, "Sir, something has been bothering me."

The general waited for the boy to continue, and after Strife realized that Sephiroth was willing to listen he did, "Today…you've only used your left hand. You never use your left hand."

Sephiroth let a half-smile cross his face. So he had noticed? He wasn't surprised. Strife's squad saw more of the general than most, so it gave the observant boy a bit more of a chance to get his habits down. But still, he didn't understand why the boy had pointed it out. What did it matter if he avoided using his main hand?

"Don't think too hard on it, Cadet." Sephiroth ended up responding to the boy's statement. There wasn't any way he was going to admit that he probably wouldn't be able to use his right hand for anything combat related for at least another day or so. If he hadn't been assigned to the exams he wouldn't have needed to. At least he could use his left hand equally well—he'd caught the Midgar Zolom with his 'weaker' side, right?

Which reminded him… "Strife." He called as the boy ducked his head at the evasive response, turning to leave. When the boy halted, Sephiroth continued, deciding to inform the boy of his thoughts concerning his actions during the battle, "You were too reckless today. Only idiots throw themselves in front of a three-ton snake."

A faint grin flickered onto the cadet's tired face, "Then I'm an idiot, sir. You saved me once, at least let me dream that I can return the favor one day."

He sounded so much like Zack when he said that. "Go to bed, cadet."

"Yes sir."

A/N: Another one I got myself some nice FFVII music remixes things that have done wonders for my muse. I've also been rereading some of the other fics out there, so inspiration abounds at the moment. A lot of it has been focused more in Part III, and I've written out some fun scenes where I'm actually in Cloud's head more than anyone else's. I kinda have to use Cloudie's POV…since Sephi is kinda…er…nevermind. If I continue that thought I'll probably spoil something.

The next one is the last chapter for this part. After that…time skip about another year or so. That'd make Cloudie about 16, Zack…uh…probably 20 ish, Sephy…I have no idea. Same with Vincent. I lost track of their ages quite a while ago. Cloud's is the only one I know for sure, and that's cause his age was given as 21 in the game, so I just count backward.

The last bit of this chapter was a bit difficult to write. I'm not sure why…I guess I wanted to get the little conversation with Cloud and Sephy, but it didn't want to come out. I'm not all too pleased by how it turned out, but meeeh. I'm done with it.

This chapter was finished on June 24th, and marks the first chapter that I had to pull completely from my head at once, without any existing framework. Soo…is it any good? All the others had been written/mostly written and had gone through a couple revisions before I was satisfied. This one is raw, so I'm a bit worried about the quality. Then again, I'm always worried about the quality…

Sometimes I wish I could be someone else and read this…being the one who wrote it is just…It's not the same.

Anyways, thanks for all the reviews guys! 15 at my last check, and over 300 hits for the last chapter! It makes me feel loved—I'm glad you guys seem to like this story. Frankly, you guys are the reason I keep coming back and updating it. It may take me a while some times, I have other stories, and for some reason I can only work on one at a time, but I will get this finished.

Read on for the last chapter of Part II!

P.S. Don't ask why I sudden switched to Roman Numerals...I just did z-z I'll go back and edit the others some time...