Author's Notes: Still here. Still writing. Progress?

Hyne's War – Chapter 34

Nida, there's something about the way you move when we fight that just isn't real. I wish I could find the words for it, but none of it makes sense. It's like, well, this is going to sound mad, but it's like you're already there when I move. Not always, not even half of the time, but sometimes you're there before I even realize where I'm going. You know before really seeming to know. Maybe it's instinct, maybe you were made for fighting the same way Squall and that ass Seifer seem to be. But I'm not sure. I'm terrified of just what it might mean. Hyne help us all if it does. Let me never find proof.

Some shifts it's easier to sleep than others. The ones where Fujin's there, massaging away the stress are easy to sleep through. The ones where she's on shift and he's alone, left to read through Elijah's journal or work on reports, that tires him out as well. It's the times when there's been news that it's hard to sleep. When he heard of a strike against Balamb repelled by a joint operation between Quistis and Seifer, all while Zell was staging an assault on a Zebalgan base. He didn't sleep after the attack on the Ragnarok outside of the old D-District Prison by the Zebalgan controlled air forces. And right now, he wasn't sleeping either.

Part of the problem was that the dreams, now that they were back, were back in force. Not that they told him much. The fog and smoke dreams never did, which was infuriating since the clear dreams were supposed to be unavoidable. How did one avoid the worst destiny had to offer when the only things clear enough to avoid were fated by his previous possibilities. One with someone helping him, one without. So far he knew little about how it would play out differently, where it would be, or who it was with in the one version.

Squall had stopped asking for more than the briefest summaries almost a week ago, his attention instead on the war efforts. And war efforts they really were now, from what Nida understood from the cross fleet reports. After Vernon's death the last Zebalgan leader at large other than Boyce, Ashura, had fled taking down a troop of SeeDs with the summoning of a legendary GF. While he hadn't been given a casualty count, it didn't mean he didn't have an idea. As for Irvine, well if he was seeing something similar or relevant, Nida wasn't given any word on it.

Nor had there been too much help or comfort in the journal. The entries always seemed to focus either on him, or what Elijah had planned for the Zebalgan people. The combination of the loss it left him feeling and the lost potential, well, it left him wishing he had a chance to drink. Or at least that he was old enough to do it. Old enough to throw away his life in a war, but not enough to drink away the memories of the faces of those he had killed. Wonderful. Even now he wasn't sure why he was reading, what he thought he was going to find there. For all that Seifer sent him coded messages through Fujin every now and then to ask after what information he might have found, Nida still hadn't responded. There wasn't anything really worth passing on so far, nothing that they didn't already know at least. Well, that wasn't entirely true. A lot of what was in there would confirm things Nida had previously reported having heard from Elijah in those last days.

So now here he was, standing beside his bunk, staring at the things he'd thrown together on the shitty mattress, unsure of what to do. Three times he'd been in this position, staring down at the assemblage of items, and trying to decide what to do with it all. Every time before this he'd stuffed them away as it was getting close to the end of Raijin's shift and the need to be ready for his own. Some of the things were innocent enough: one of the few shirts that had survived the destruction of his room; a pair of sturdy, long in the leg pants that Irvine had given him after the same fit; his metal tambo; a few vials of curative solutions like potions and antidotes; even the mithril necklace hung with both Siren's and Salamander's pendents. Other things were far less 'mundane': the coil of sturdy rope he'd stolen from the hanger; a harness and set of descenders for repelling; a harness for both Elijah's sword and his own tambo; and he didn't even want to get started on the lock picks, palm computers, or the other tools that he'd picked up in the line of his infiltration training.

With this kind of stuff he should be able to get into just about anywhere, and through just about anything that his dreams threw at him. This, more than anything, was something he had been trained in. As much as he loved the skies he could crack most locks—be they electronic or physical—with a speed that put even Seifer's obsession with breaking and entering to shame. The thing was that he couldn't bring himself to stuff it all into his pack and make the move his dreams had been urging him toward for so long now. Part of it was because he wasn't sure what would come of the dream: what was the point of the corridor so prevalent in his dreams; would Squall see him in an Esthari maximum security jail for this betrayal; would Fujin be able to handle the Ragnarok's command on her own, and would she forgive him for his disappearance.

The other part was that Nida hadn't known where the dreams were taking him. Not until last night, not until the dream that he hadn't reported. As sure as Nida was that this was a crazy plan, he wasn't mad enough to tell Squall what he intended to do before hand. That in the smoke and fog of his own mind he, yet again, stole a flier right from under Squall's nose, flying out into the night to meet a fate that he could barely understand.

The question, now, really came down to what he was going to do. There might not be another chance to leave like this. Raijin was on shift right now, but Fujin was caught up with some disciplinary matters that left Nida surprisingly free. Act or don't, it was up to him.

He's made it out of his uniform and into the casual clothes before he even realized that his mind had been made up. The weapons harnesses were on before he even cared about the decision. The weapons were in place, the pack filled and on his shoulder, and Siren and Salamander lodged safely and silently in his mind before he stopped and actually thought about it. Fujin was going to kill him for this. Never mind Squall or Seifer or anyone else. She was going to have his head for leaving everything behind without even the slightest bit of excuse. Not that there was much time to leave more than a passing note. Fujin could finish with her work any moment, and while Nida was sure he could take her in a fight, he was certain that it would only come at great cost to himself. He valued his pride, and his fingers, a little too much to risk it. It wasn't much, but he managed to pen out a brief explanation and apology and tape it to the frame of the bunk before he slipped out into the corridor.

It was late, one of the perks of living on ten hour shifts, which meant that only those on duty were really awake, or at least out and about. The best was that none of them would dare to stop him, even with the odd selection of things he was wearing and carrying. Who would dare cross their General, even if he was acting suspicious? It was nothing like the last time he'd gone to steal a flier. No, that time he had relied on Seifer's rather unquestionable facade to get him where he needed to be. This time he had to rely on the same quality in himself, not that he'd ever felt like he'd really possessed it. When had that changed? When had he gone from being a rather forgettable SeeD who strove to be recognized to someone who just wanted to flee from recognition he didn't want?

One should always be careful what they wish for, Salamander's mental voice crackled. Nida just waved it aside in his mind even as he waved the guard at the end of the corridor aside. Sure, the SeeD stared at him in shock and Salamander's essence burned in a quiet kind of annoyance in his mind, but Nida ignored them both and carried on as if his right to do whatever he wanted was unquestionable, because at least here it was to everyone but Fujin and Raijin.

That didn't make the trip down to the hanger any less tense, or him any less worried that someone really would stop and ask him. It was a concern that he'd had a lot these last weeks. When was someone going to stop him and calmly inform him that they'd been wrong about it all, that he wasn't special, and that no one really thought he should be in charge of anything. That this was all just some elaborate practical joke, likely executed by Seifer, for reasons that no one could fathom. But that moment never came, and he knew it never would. The world was just too brutally real for his comfort, and he had to make do with what it gave him at any moment.

Blessedly, miraculously, the hanger was almost empty when he got there. The only one that seemed to be out and doing anything was Yoriel, who was focusing pretty hard on an opened up engine of one of the Galbadian fighters. It was almost nothing to head over to one of the Garden fliers that Nida was more familiar with, and stuff what he could into one of the storage compartments. It was only as he was tossing the sword and tambo in that he heard the footsteps behind him and froze. Was this it? Was this the moment where he made the choice that caused the difference between the two fogged paths of the future? How would he even know it if it was?

"Where you off to?" Yoriel asked, and Nida just sighed. No, this wasn't it, this couldn't be it. There was no reason to drag him along.

"I need a chance to clear my head," he lied in response, and was surprised by how easy it was. "Take a spin around the Rag, maybe a few barrel rolls just to relax."

"You've got a rather strange concept of relaxing," Yoriel laughed nervously, clearly not buying it.

"Are you really surprised?"

"No," Yoriel admitted, laughing. "You filed a flight plan?"

"Does it look like I took the time to think about a flight plan?" Nida countered, turning to smile at the man.

"It's protocol, sir..."

"Whose?"

"Well... Uh... yours."

"Trust me, Yoriel, everything is under control. I've got everything sorted out with Lieutenant Colonel Venti. If you've any questions, take them to her. I'll be back soon."

With that Nida all but threw himself into the cockpit, closed it behind him, and started the manual override on the launch system. It didn't take long for Yoriel to run out of the hanger, likely to report to Fujin, and before he was even out of the hanger it was clearing out from the launch alarms. Nida ran through his pre-flight checklist as quickly as he could manage, even as the launch sling started to pull the flier towards the opening hatch. There was only just enough time to get through it and get the restraints on before it was time to power up the engines and feel the rush as the launcher flung him from the hanger and into the welcoming arms of the night. Before he was out of sight of the Ragnarok the transponder and communicator was off and Nida was setting course for his target: the one he'd found through the faintest hint in a moment of clarity in the smoke dreams.

Time to see what the Deep Sea Research Center on Battleship Island was all about.

There were a lot of stories about the Deep Sea Research Center of Battleship Island, there always had been. They came mostly from Adel's reign, from the times where Odine had free reign to research whatever he saw fit, a time before the Ellone machine. Back then there had been a lot of interest in furthering the understanding of para-magic, to find bigger and better draw points to allow normal humans more control over the magical forces that seemed to hold the world in awe. There had been experiments with the Guardian Forces there, attempts to control them to gain even more power. Some rumors said the researchers went insane. Others said they looked into the core of the power of the world and swore never to speak of its wonder again. There were even one or two reserved for horror stories, where a researcher was driven mad by what they discovered and murdered his colleagues one by one until the Esthari military grade robots were sent to seal the place. And, of course, there were the stories of a great power being discovered that they feared and sealed away. Strangely enough Squall, Zell, and Quistis had been the ones to prove the last rumor true in the last war. Proved it at great cost to themselves—Nida had seen how damaged they had been after returning from their exploration—but with a kind of prize that was hard to rival: the loyalty of both Bahamut and Eden.

Few records had been created about their exploration of the main research facility, but enough of the descriptions had come through in Zell's stories during lunches that Nida had finally been able to recognize it when his dreams had at last offered the clue of hazy but decrepit structures all but sinking into the sea. Not that it had helped him in doing much more than finding the general location. His dream had been specific, he'd seen the main facility from the view in his dream, which meant he wasn't bound for the same place that Squall and them had explored, but some place different. It had taken several minutes of circling in his flier, of watching and searching for the right combination, before Nida finally landed on the roof of one of the tallest points of the various structures. Already he knew some of what he'd find inside. Long corridors filled with enemies, a deep stairwell that he'd have to throw himself down, but to what end he still wasn't sure. The bigger question, though, was whether or not he'd passed the chance for companionship in all of this. Not that he liked his chances. There were only a few people that he could even begin to expect to find out here. Fujin or Raijin coming after him wasn't too likely: for all that they were technically responsible for him, neither were qualified pilots like Nida. There was always Seifer, he somehow seemed to find a way to get himself involved in places that didn't make sense. Squall, making a coordinated strike using some bit of information that he'd come across, possibly through Irvine's dreams. Maybe even Zell, considering his familiarity of this place, or at least the stories around it.

No, Nida decided, even as he gathered his things from the flier and shut it down—though not before wiring his transponder to turn back on in an hour if he didn't stop it from doing so—it couldn't be them. Now that he put his mind to it, now that he really thought about it, none of them made sense. Slowly he fit his tambos into their places at his lower back, and shifted his grip on Elijah's sword—this was the grip he'd been unfamiliar with in his dreams—and he thought about the world of clues he'd been given and hadn't really understood in his dreams.

The dreams, they ruled out so many people. The fact that he could even hear his partner meant that it couldn't be Fujin. She was deathly silent when she moved, no matter the speed. Nida had learned that rather well these last few weeks. Nor could it be Squall; he was also rather quiet when he moved, though not utterly silent like Fujin. Seifer wasn't possible because it was too quiet in a way. If Nida had learned anything from his time around Seifer, it was that the arrogant blond was hardly the kind of guy to stay silent for the lengths of time that the dreams implied, even when there was serious business going on. As for Zell, even though he did know his way around guns—for Nida was certain that guns were the only explanation that made sense from what he remembered of the sounds in his dreams—his automatics wouldn't make the same sounds that Nida had heard.

No, there was really only one answer, and as Nida leaned there, against his flier, he almost smiled as he heard the roar of a Garden flier's engines. Now the question was how this was going to play out. Was he going to have to use persuasion or was it all just going to play out how it should?

He waited there, silent, as the flier landed and the sound of the engines died down. Held his breath as he heard the slight rush of air that meant the cockpit would be open. Finally, at the sound of boots hitting the deck, he pushed off from the side of his own flier and turned to look at the person he knew was there.

"So, Irvine, you here to drag me back or get to the bottom of the dream with me?"

It was almost funny to see the way Irvine flinched at his voice, his hand going instantly to his side where Exeter was holstered. After a moment though, Irvine just shook his head, smirked, and tipped his hat to Nida.

"I was certain I was going to find you deeper inside," he admitted, opening the storage hatch on his own flier to pull out his pack. "Somewhere after the descent in the stairs."

"Oh?" Nida asked, watching almost appreciatively as Irvine pulled a wooden staff out of the storage compartment. So he was taking those old lessons seriously, he actually intended to carry a melee range weapon. Maybe all those months of training wasn't going to be wasted for either of them. "Seems you've got far more clarity than I did. Two sets of smoke dreams, one with me alone, the other me with someone else, not that it ever told me who. So... tell me, 'heir,' why are we even here?"

The question made Irvine's face fall, and Nida regretted the word choice as he saw the look there. It wasn't like either of them had asked for this, or that Irvine had meant to lie to him all this time. In this, at least, they had to be united, whether they liked it or not. Whether they liked what it meant or not.

"Nida, I..."

He just held up and hand and shook his head, not wanting to hear it anymore than Irvine wanted to say it. "Don't. Please. I'm sorry. It's just been a bit frustrating. Like Squall shuffled me off to deal with some nonexistent problem in the hopes of keeping me out of trouble. And I'm pretty sure that I got Fujin and Raijin shuffled off on to me by some machinations of Seifer's..."

"I know," Irvine admitted, sighing as he strode to Nida's side. "Trust me, I know. Squall hasn't been the only one reading your reports."

"Ouch," Nida groaned, shaking his head. "They weren't exactly the most glowing recommendation of my recent mental health."

"Not really," Irvine agreed. "But it did help me come to some conclusions."

"Such as?"

He gestured widely around them, as if the scenery was in some way his answer. "This, Nida. For a while my dreams of this place were smoke too. But once I made a decision, once I knew you were dreaming of it and that you were the one I was waiting for, it went from smoke to perfect clarity. I knew that I had to be here, today, for what we have to do next. For what we're meant to do here."

"And that is?"

"Achieve the capture or death of Boyce Megill."

Nida stood there, frozen, staring at Irvine with what he was sure would be wide eyes. That was what they were here for? That was the fate that tied them together? Which meant that the resistance they encountered would be Zebalgans. No. No, he didn't want this. Not here, not now. Was this really how it was going to end? Not with a proper war, but with them taking the course of history into their own hands?

"Does Squall know you're here?"

"No," Irvine said, smiling. "Does Fujin know you're here?"

"No," Nida admitted. "This is something I had to do myself. I couldn't let them stop me. And now that I'm here..."

"You want revenge? For everything my grandfather's taken from you?"

Oddly, that wasn't what he wanted. Part of him said it was what he should desire, what he should want beyond all doubts, beyond all questions. Revenge for Vernon, for Elijah, for Andria, for each and every life that was on his hands because of Boyce's damn possessive desires. For the suffering and hopelessness he'd inflicted on the world. In a time where they had finally found and hoped for peace, he'd ruined it all. How many were already dead? How many more would die if they didn't end this here and now? Yet, for all the reasons he knew he should want this, part of Nida just wanted to run away and not look back. Because it couldn't end here, not the way that Irvine wanted. Surely he saw that. They better than anyone knew what it meant to see and be bound by fate. One day Irvine was bound to releasing the other half of Hyne's power upon the world, wasn't he? What if this moment, what if this action, was what led them to it? What if this was the place where they would find the missing half of the body of Hyne? What if their very presence awoke the magic for Boyce's claiming? Hadn't other things that mysterious been found here? Couldn't Eden and Bahamut have been a sign of the potential of this place? Two GFs of their lev...

"Do you have one of the new Guardian Forces on you?" Nida found himself asking, even as the thought hit him.

"What?"

"One of the new ones. Like Ramuh or..."

"Mateas," Irvine offered, frowning. "Most of them were parceled out to the high level SeeDs, and Squall said that Shiva absolutely refused to work with her. We ended up switching junctions because of that. Which has pleased Mateas to no end. She keeps making vague, ominous statements and at the same time they seem to reek of gloating over me. She calls me..."

Coyote, the cunning little wolf, Salamander offered.

"Coyote. I know," Nida sighed. "Siren has had avian pet names for me since her 'awakening,' but Salamander only ever uses one..."

"Eagle," Irvine responded, and Nida couldn't help but nod, even as Irvine had when he'd used the term that Salamander had given him. "Seems like they have their own minds made up as to who and what we are. I don't know if I should be jealous of your title or not. Coyotes are scavengers. Eagles are hunters."

"Coyotes are hunters," he found himself correcting Irvince. "Plus they are survivors, they are adaptable. Eagles are far less so. They are set in their ways, they return to the same nesting spots..."

"Building on a stable structure of years."

You quibble too much, Salamander suddenly cut in, and Nida couldn't help but wince at the force of the words.

"Forceful?"

"Do you like hot sauce?"

"What?"

"Do you like hot sauce? No tricks here."

"Uh... Yeah, I guess."

"Well, when Salamander thinks it is like my brain has been dipped in hot sauce and then set on fire while being squeeze by a vice. Helpful?"

"Descriptive and terrifying. Enough to make me more willing to put up with Mateas's frost and gloom in her attempts to 'guide' me."

"Guide... now there is the question, right? If you're meant to fulfill this prophecy that the Zebalgans fight for, if you're going to release this power into the world, who are we to say that isn't going to be now? That the Guardian Forces haven't led us here for that very end?"

There was a burst of pain behind his eyes, Salamander's retribution for the suggestion no doubt, but Nida just grit his teeth and stared at Irvine, waiting for his response. He could even see the idea all but rolling around in Irvine's mind, could see it plainly on his face. Could even see it when Irvine tossed the idea aside and clearly decided to act anyway.

"I had a clear dream of being here, Nida. A crystal clear dream with us somewhere down there, face to face with Boyce. There's no avoiding it. It's..."

"Please don't say it's fate, Irvine. You want to be able to change the clear dreams? Then just don't do it. Walk away now and leave this to me. If it's the heir who unlocks the power of Hyne, then you shouldn't be there. Shouldn't risk letting the power..."

"Nida..."

"Dammit Irvine, just listen. Walk away. Change the future that you've seen."

"And what about all the lives that are lost if we don't act here and now?"

That, maybe even only that, was the one thing that Irvine could have said to get Nida moving. The only reason he was willing to accept this. At this point he had seen enough of war, of bloodshed, of pain and suffering, that even so slim of a chance to end it was too tempting to pass up.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Nida found himself asking, testing the feeling of Elijah's sword in his hand once more.

"Are you sure you can keep up?" Irvine countered.

"I should be asking that of you," he laughed, half smirking. "Who's the one that is trained in this, anyway? Yeah, so you're a sniper, but your infiltration only goes to a point. This is my specialty, Irvine."

"You're saying that a gunner like me can't..."

"Yes, Irvine, that's what I'm saying. Besides, in my dreams you were always trailing behind. That was why I wasn't sure that I was going to find you here."

"They were smoke dreams, right?"

"Are you saying that you might still win just because the dream wasn't clear?"

"Just saying that's the way it works."

Despite all of the stress, Nida forced a smile onto his face, gestured widely in the direction of the door that obviously led into the structure, and then, even as Irvine tipped his hat in acknowledgment, Nida took off in a run for the door. He only barely heard a snort of amused annoyance from Irvine before the long since familiar sound of footsteps started behind him.

Neither of them laughed. Nor did they speak. In silence they started into the research structure, silent as death—that is not at all—as they moved through the forces that had been left to block their path.

It plays out like a dream. No... No, not like 'a' dream, but like one in particular. Running down long corridors, cutting people out of the way with Elijah's blade, refusing to see the realization that hit them in the wake of the crimson blade, nothing to serve as his companion but the GFs lodged in his head, the echoing of his and Irvine's footsteps in the halls, and the realization of just what they were doing. The people that were meeting their ends at the edge of Rupio were young, so much younger than himself if he really thought about it. Not that he wanted to think about it. It was hard enough to know, on some level, that he would carry their faces with him for the rest of his life.

It doesn't even change until he's over the edge of the stair well, descenders clutched tightly in his hands as he starts down the rope. Three levels, his memory of the dream tells him, but he honestly doesn't know why he's certain about it. Just that when he reaches the railing he carefully swings himself over it, strips off his harness as quickly as possible, and pulled Rupio from its sheathe. Irvine had held off potential threats while Nida had rigged up the descent for them, and it was only right for Nida to hold the bottom while he waited for Irvine to join him. Didn't hurt that it would mean that Irvine would take responsibility for gathering up and stowing the gear.

Soon enough Irvine is at his side, the gear stowed, and they're into gray territory when it came to the knowledge left to them by their dreams. From there it was only instinct. Taking turns relying on gut instincts of where to go, usually supported by which directions seemed to have more enemy fighters coming at them. They moved together, only the sounds of their boots keeping each other company as they moved through the halls, the steady beat broken when they came to blows with those they met.

One hallway was very much like another, they soon came to recognize. There were marks, of course, at every intersection, at every room, but that didn't mean they were decipherable. Nida had no clue what they were, though Salamander had squirmed uneasily in his mind every time he thought about them too hard. When questioned, Irvine confirmed a similar reaction from Mateas, though she was less reluctant to admit that they made her uncomfortable than Salamander was. Still, it's in relative silence and peace that they reach the end of a corridor that didn't connect to another, but emptied out into a large room almost filled with non-functioning computer banks.

And in the middle of it stood a single figure, clad in traditional Esthari robes in a shade of gold that screamed only one thing to Nida.

"Ashura," he observed, sadly resigned to what her presence meant. If only he could, for once, encounter one of the Zebalgan leaders without it coming to their deaths. Because clearly, Ashura was not going to let him past, not with the way she was standing there, glaring at them, a short staff held in her folded hands.

"The last one?" Irvine asked, and Nida just nodded in agreement. "Well, a guy can hope, right? Stand aside, and you won't be harmed."

"Oh, that truly is cute, dear boys, but don't begin to believe that you're getting past me."

"Are we supposed to be scared of you?" Nida asked, frowning. "No offense, but you side really hasn't been showing much capability in a one on one sort of situation. There was Andria, who was poisoned by one of your own. Xu, killed by Seifer before she could assassinate Squall. Zell managed to snap Ruth's neck pretty easily. Joshua I took the head from, Elijah I shoved a metal blade through, and Vernon I shot out of the sky quite recently. Which leaves Boyce, who we're here to handle, and you. Really, Ashura, do you think you're going to stop us in our attempt to bring this to an end?"

"It's already coming to an end," she said, smiling widely and almost, if Nida dared to say it, madly. "And you are too late to play a role in it."

Nida took a quick moment to glance at Irvine out of the corner of his eyes, and sure enough he found the same confusion on Irvine's face that he felt. At least he wasn't alone in feeling confused by what Ashura was spouting. Coming to an end? What was? The war? And she thought they didn't have a part in it?

"We're fated to play a part here," Irvine countered, "Otherwise we never would have found our way here."

"Oh no, you do have a fate here," she agreed, laughing. No, cackling. "Your fate is to end here. At my hands. I was certain that when you crossed Joshua you'd meet your end, but I see now that he was never enough to overcome the supposed burden placed upon you both. That honor was reserved for me."

There was a slightly confused noise from Irvine, but Nida, he was instantly shifting into a defensive stance, Elijah's blade raised before him to ward off the threat he now knew Ashura would be. He couldn't help but remember Joshua's words all those months ago, back when the young psychopath had tried to kill Nida. Back then he'd had Elijah and Seifer to protect him. This time it was up to him to make sure that Irvine made it through this safely.

"Irvine, remember the report about Joshua?" Nida asked, glancing quickly back over his shoulder and seeing confusion still plainly there on Irvine's face.

"He was part of some sect of the Zebalgans that..."

Nida could hear the realization in Irvine's voice, could hear him take a step backward. Likely as not his gun was coming out. All Nida could do was gesture at him, a low and small movement of his hand that related all that Irvine needed to know, if he was remembering the numerous times where Nida had cut their training sessions short to teach Irvine the Balamb SeeD hand signals. 'Stay back,' he signaled, even as he relaxed his grip on the sword and strode towards the point where Ashura was standing.

"When Joshua, and Elijah, admitted there was a group of Zebalgans who thought that the Heir wasn't needed, I figured I'd meet them again some day. Not that they were willing to do anything to me when I was in Haven. But I'd always thought he was alone on the council. That Boyce wouldn't allow such a potentially damaging group come to more power."

"You were wrong," Ashura laughed, eyes flashing with a kind of madness that made Nida nervous. "Joshua was hard to talk around to my way of thinking, but in the end he did what was right. Because he believed the truth that I learned, that I shared with him. The truth that this place taught me."

"This place?" Irvine asked, and Nida wanted to turn and shake him until he shut up. Maybe he was the heir, maybe he was Nida's cousin, maybe a lot of things, but he wasn't using his head right now. The last thing Nida wanted was for Ashura to put too much attention on Irvine. Better that she went for him than for Irvine. The gunner could be their only hope.

"Oh my. Seems that neither of you know why you are here. Sons of the blood indeed, not even knowing where they have come or why they have done that. Not realizing that you are drawn here even as Boyce has always been. You're children, not heirs. Fated to fail, as I have always known. Well then, let me enlighten you. This place, it is more than a research center. Surely you've heard of the histories, know of what has been discovered here."

"Bahamut, Eden, and the Weapon," Nida offered, knowing that unless he did Irvine would answer and keep drawing attention to himself. As he spoke he carefully made another gesture, ordering Irvine into silence. "There was also research going on here, using the GFs, looking for the ultimate draw point."

"Exactly," she cooed the word, as if delighting in the meaning behind it. "Here, let's try this question. Do you even have any idea as to who I am?"

Nida shook his head. There were some obvious answers: she had been living in Esthari, she wore the robes of a native, she had the accent, but when the SeeD forces had found her, it had been at the airport. So far as Nida knew, no one was aware of just who this woman really was.

"You've been Odine's primary research assistant for almost two decades," Irvine provided. "A leading researcher on GFs, right up there with Veringas."

"Well well, apparently you SeeD were better researchers than I thought. Or Veringas gave you the information after he heard of my escape. Either way you know enough. Yes, I was a guardian force researcher under Veringas and Odine. I was a member of the original research team here at Battleship Island. When they broke through to the deeps here, when they found the place where the Weapon was sealed, I alone knew the meaning of this place. Odine and Veringas were fools, to never realize the power that was given them here. None of them understood. None of them were capable of it. They couldn't see what we had found. The place that was promised us by the prophecies of a misguided ancient tribes man. This is the place we were meant to come, the place where the body of the god rests. It is here that we shall awaken the power we earned all those eons ago! This is the place where all our fates come to a head, and we didn't need you to guide us here, and Boyce will not need you to awaken the power promised us."

"She's mad," Irvine whispered, and Nida couldn't help but agree. Not that it made him feel any better. Here he was, standing between a crazy woman and someone he was bound to protect, and if she was even anywhere near right with her suspicions, then things could get really bad right here. He needed Irvine through here, needed him going off to deal with Boyce. Which meant doing something he'd hoped not to have to do again.

He doesn't answer, just lunges forward, strengthening his grip on Rupio and raising it just before he reached Ashura. The blade didn't touch her. In the last moment before it met her flesh, Ashura raised a single hand, it flashed with light, and to Nida it felt like the sword had hit a solid wall. As the light faded Nida couldn't help but stare at the way his blade hovered there in the air, inches from her upraised hand. Yet it still felt like a solid wall of steel that was holding him back. Part of him wanted to curse, to deny what was happening, to take a step back and try again with better success. Instead he turned his gaze, met Ashura's eyes, and he let his breath catch as he met the gleam of gold that he caught there.

"Sorceress." The only word he had a chance to gasp out as the force in her upraised hand exploded outward, throwing him across the room and slamming him hard into a wall.