Author's Note:
I'm not necessarily over the moon with this chapter, but sometimes you've just got to write it out a little bit, you know? Now, some of you might well have noticed that our main character is just a tad... glib compared to what he was in the game. My only true explanation is that during the events of the game he was a 17 year old boy. Not yet a man by most standards, and asked to save the world by people who built him to be the perfect soldier. He was a little maudlin, let's be honest. However I think that by his late 20's, a lot of that misanthropy will have been refined into a sort of dry humour.
Nobody has the energy to stretch out their Nu-Metal phase for that long, surely?
As to the chapter itself, there are a couple of scenes that I'd maybe like another go at, later. First of all the scene with Adel seems perhaps a little gratuitous, but canonically she did test the Lunatic Pandora over the Trabian mountains, and there's no reason to believe that they were uninhabited. What's the point of testing a weapon if you can't see what it actually does to your intended target.
So, while I'm not entirely satisfied with the depictions of Adel's insanity here, I think the basic premise fits well enough. It also highlights how inhuman being a Sorceress is. These women are not just magically gifted, they are essentially Goddesses walking the Earth. Edea doesn't enter rooms like a normal woman, she changes the atomic structure of things she wants to walk through with no more effort than you or I would expend on a doorknob.
This means that Rinoa is just never going to have a normal life with these powers, no matter how much she acts the part. She's essentially a spider living her life pretending to be a fly. She might act the part, but the flies know what she is and sometimes at night she'll feel that hunger upon her and she'll have to work damn hard to ignore it.
Time Compression -17 years, 8 months, 12 days:
"My Lady, the alignment is complete. We are prepared to commence the test at your command."
The black beetle-face of the Terminator betrayed no emotion, and its body was held in an expression of perfect calm.
Adel curled her savage lip, somewhat impressed with this soldier's calm around her. She could smell the fear coming off of the rest of them, perceiving it as a choking miasma to wade through. To her every corner may as well stink of piss and loathing, the verminous clouds of mundane humanity rendered trembling and incontinent at the sight of her.
This was as it should be. She would have to remind this soldier of that after the test concluded.
"Bring Odine." She hissed, dismissing the metal-man with a sound. The Terminator strode away at a controlled pace, which only fed her cold fury.
She reminded herself that this was how she had made them to be, as unfeeling as the dead stones and twice as hard to kill. She had gotten that wish at least…
"Yes? Vat does ze Zorceress require of Odine?"
The odious little man sidled up with that awkward jerky crab-walk of his, another thing adding to her killing mood. She acknowledged at least that the little man was useful…
His mind was… agile, flighty. He had insight, and didn't seem to notice the outside world unless it contained something that interested him. In many ways Adel knew that he was smarter than her. She also knew that she was smarter than him in the one area that counted.
"I hear that the Pillar is ready to be tested."
It was a statement, not a question. If Odine noticed the menacing aura being exuded by the 12-foot tall Goddess before him, he didn't give any sign of it.
"Ze vibrations are as correct as zey can be made here. Ve vill have Lunar Cry, yet perhaps smaller zan the natural occurrences. Ze Piller works best at sites zat have been specifically tuned to amplify ze zignal."
Adel sent a ripple of magic to deform her left hand into a grotesque reptilian claw. With no more effort than if she were picking up an apple she scooped up the doctor and brought him up to her face. She smiled sweetly, knowing that the effect was probably quite sickening even to the Doctor…
"My dear sweet Doctor. We have only managed to locate one such site, and it is not in an advantageous position. This weapon is of little use to me if I can only fire it at my own beloved people, would you not agree?"
The Doctor's already runny face seemed only to get runnier, his watery eyes scanning her face for any sign of impending evisceration. Adel noted with quiet amusement that he had stopped breathing.
"Zat is true, mein Zorceress…"
Her dark lips curled back, revealing teeth that were still mostly human, pearly white and neatly arranged. She used her human hand to gently pull the back of the Doctor's head close, gently resting her cheek on his, her lips an inch away from his earlobe.
"Sometimes, at night… I dream, Doctor. Did you know that the Sorceress dreams, I wonder? I dream about eating you, Doctor… Starting at the soles of your feet and pulling strip after strip of quivering meat off of your grinding bones… Feeling the tendons go taught and then snap as I pull them away… I'm gifted in the disciplines of healing, sweet Doctor… You'd live to see it all happen, I promise… I'd be willing to wager good money that I could keep you alive for weeks… Would you like me to do that for you, Doctor?"
She whispered as if she were confessing to a priest, and felt the trembling old man in her arms who had no more strength than a baby to her. She cradled him close, and rocked him gently.
"Shhhh... Shhhh…" She cooed softly, gently stroking the scientist's scalp in a motherly fashion.
"Don't fret, my darling… Don't you fret… You're my special boy, do you know that? I'm going to save you for last, I promise…"
She sank to her knees in rapture, still holding the doctor like a child.
"Doctor… Tell me the drones are in place…"
She sensed that Odine did not quite know whether to respond, and she tightened the grip of her claws just so. With a sharp intake of breath he seemed to regain his senses.
"Yes, mein Zorceress… Ze drones are transmitting data from all of ze settlements in ze shadow of ze mountain. You vill be able to see… it all…"
She slowly unfurled her claws and lovingly deposited the prone professor onto the floor, where he lay waiting for the death blow which surely must be coming.
"Run along, Odine. I want to be alone for this…"
Dr Odine did not need to be told twice. He leapt up and scurried away with a sprightliness that his tiny weathered limbs seemed incapable of. Adel's superhuman senses caught the tell-tale whimpers she was expecting. Odine was weeping as he ran.
As he ought to be.
With a tap of a button, a battery of TV screens removed themselves from behind a wall panel and flashed into life. The first few feeds were attached to cameras on the exterior hull of the strange craft she sat within.
The Lunatic Pandora's steel hull was dotted with cameras and remote drones to capture every second of the Lunar Cry, the first in more than a century.
The other feeds though, belonged to remote units that were stalking the Trabian wilds at this very moment, hovering around the outskirts of the villages and towns dotted along the border with Esther.
She was going to watch those feeds with great interest, as it would surely not be long now. The gargantuan Crystal Pillar had been pulsing and humming for nearly a full day now, its strange ululation undetectable to the mundane humans coaxing it into being.
Adel heard it though. Adel heard everything the Pillar wanted to say.
She could feel on the edges of her perception the tiny pinpricks of life energy that would soon tumble down from on high, throwing these sleepy mountains into chaos. She relished the coming hours, desperately hoping that her drones would survive the initial impact, wanting more than anything to have a camera feed active to watch what happens when the Lunar monsters discover the survivors…
A feast.
She decided that she would invite that Terminator to join her for dinner.
Time Compression +10 years, 2 months, 8 days:
Squall steered the red convertible into the final checkpoint, idly clicking his fingers for the identification papers he had shown to the last three sentries. The girl Tula was sitting up front with him, and had thus been given the task of holding the sacred documents. Squall wondered again how a girl who looked fully capable of pulling him clean in half was so damn nervy all the time. The whole car ride over she'd been sat up ram-rod stiff, refusing to speak or make eye-contact unless ordered to. She dutifully handed over the papers without a word as the guard walked amiably up to the car.
"At least she's one of mine…" Squall thought of the SeeD manning the checkpoint who walked over professionally, a heavy Chakram notched to her belt.
"Afternoon, Sir. Glad to have you back on site. Papers, please?"
Squall handed them over without comment, quietly pleased that the SeeD hadn't just waved him through on recognition. Galbadia Garden was hosting representatives of the G-Army today, and he was going to take every chance to show them up he got. The girl manning the gate handed the papers back and gave a professional looking salute.
"Have a good day, Commander."
"There's that title again…" Squall thought to himself glumly as the barrier lifted and he drove up to the Garden proper.
He remembered the first time he had come here (some ten years ago now…) and remarked that surprisingly little had changed since then. The Garden had been returned to SeeD after the war, and now sat in its original place as if nothing had ever compelled it to leave.
Given the Garden's tempestuous recent history, the staff and students were clearly on edge. No Galbadian military official had set foot anywhere on the grounds in nearly 8 years, and the uncomfortable G-Army retinue looked defensive around their APCs. This was probably because they could feel the eyes of nearly every SeeD on the continent boring into them.
This was no coincidence, as his security advisor had specifically called up those SeeD veterans who were present at both the siege of Galbadia Garden and the Battle for Balamb Garden. Aside from being some of SeeD's most experienced personnel, they all felt a deep animosity towards the G-Army, and the stares the soldiers got were likely far more predatory than they were used to.
Squall drove past them to one of the marked parking bays, taking a moment to look over the sorry-looking blue-coats. They were still armed, but confined to their APCs unless called upon. They looked acutely aware that any movement that could be construed as aggressive would result in a short but excessively violent confrontation that they were unlikely to survive, so their hands were very pointedly kept away from their triggers.
Squall noticed that most of them were staring at the bizarre blue frame of an Albatross shuttle which had clearly landed a short time ago. Squall parked close by to it and motioned for his passengers to follow.
As he approached the idling flyer, he noticed the name and portrait stencilled on the side. Trabia Darlin' was adorned with a (somewhat fanciful) depiction of its pilot on the side. The very same pilot who was now waving enthusiastically through the glass canopy. Squall waved glibly and went to greet her.
"Hi Selphie, what do you hear up there?"
The pilot pulled off her helmet and snaked a hand through her hair. Her animated features settled quickly into her trademark smile, the corners of her eyes pinching with mirth.
"Nothing but the rain, Boss. You pick up some snacks while you were out?"
Squall didn't really approve of calling the Auxiliaries selected for aptitude testing 'snacks', but even the students themselves didn't seem bothered enough for him to make a fuss.
"Good eye, I'm going to run them through some tests after the Conference. This is Jat, that's Zan and over here is Tula. You three, this is Instructor Tilmitt. On matters of flight and combat magic, her word is sacrosanct."
The three Auxiliaries saluted the way their CO had taught them, and Selphie just smiled happily at them, never one for ceremony. Her eyes immediately locked onto Tula, who tried to disguise her nervousness at the attention with little success.
"Damn, Squall! Where do they grow them like her?! What's your secret, honey? Is it broccoli? I bet it is, I hate broccoli."
Jat laughed and ran a hand through his own immaculately coifed hair while Zan smiled quietly to himself. Tula just turned beet red and stammered as Selphie hopped daintily out of the cockpit, her 5'2 frame looking positively pixie-ish next to the giantess. She put her hands on her hips and make a mock show of surveying the nervy Auxiliary. Squall had to admit that nobody else could make students relax quite like Selphie, and he felt comfortable stashing them with her while he went off to play Politician.
"Can you hang onto them for an hour or so while I catch up with Rinoa?"
Selphie placed a hand on her chin and closed one eye, seemingly deep in thought. Her expressive face couldn't disguise her mocking, playful tone though.
"Ooh, that sounds like something that nets me a favour from our great and illustrious Commander to be redeemed at my leisure. You think so, snacks?"
"Yes Ma'am, it surely does." Jat replied with his characteristic drawl. Squall took her teasing as evidence of assent on her part.
"If she mentions anything about the Garden Festival, say you can't talk about it without a lawyer present." He offered this final thought before grabbing the last of his things from the trunk of the car.
"I assume you brought her in, Selph?"
Selphie nodded and started beckoning the students over to the frame of the big metal bird.
"Yeah, she should be up in Quisty's office right now."
With a final thank you he left her and the students to their business and made his way into the Garden proper. He strolled past SeeDs and students alike, mingling freely with various political staffers from the fledgling Galbadian Republic, which formed shortly after the end of the war. Occasionally a minor Senator could be found organising lonely little photoshoots to send to the press to show how involved they were at this 'historic' summit.
With the death of Vinzer Deling some ten years ago, the various cities and territories suddenly found themselves scrambling to fill a titanic power-vacuum. While they were temporarily mollified with the re-establishment of the Galbadian Congress, they were constantly vying for more power.
Squall got the distinct impression that every single one of them was hoping to be the next Deling, constantly extolling the virtues of democracy until the day they got enough power to shut it down again.
"All except one…" he thought to himself with a small tinge of pride. He made his way to Quistis's office on muscle memory alone, but his course was interrupted by a voice calling to him from one of the anonymous clusters of Galbadian politicians.
"Commander."
The voice was a little gnarled with age, but Squall recognised it well enough and turned to greet his Father-in-Law.
"General Caraway, welcome to Galbadia Garden. I trust our staff have made you comfortable?"
The man still carried himself with a quiet dignity, even with his chest weighed down under a thousand individual clumps of brass, silver and gold. The General's hair was now almost entirely grey, and he used a pair of surprisingly delicate spectacles that Squall had not seen before. Squall's words made the corners of his eyes pinch in a way that his daughter insisted was equivalent to a smile, though Squall wasn't entirely sure of that.
"They have done no such thing, Commander. For that I must commend your security staff, who are doing an excellent job."
Squall couldn't tell whether the man was serious or whether this was what Rinoa referred to as him 'mellowing with age'. Nevertheless, he took the comment with a stoic handshake.
"I'll be sure to pass on your compliments to our Chief of Security."
Squall found it somewhat fortunate that the General was a little old-fashioned when it came to social niceties, as Squall was entirely opposed to them unless absolutely necessary.
"Thank you, Commander. While I have your ear, I'd like to invite you both up to Deling City next month if you're amenable to the idea. I'd like an opportunity to sit down for a meal together without the… political element."
Squall did some quick calendar-checking and realised which date he must have in mind.
"The anniversary, naturally…" he thought glumly, he'd almost forgotten altogether.
"We'll be happy to attend, General. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to check in with Rinoa before things get going."
The General nodded politely and offered another handshake before departing back into the crowd. Squall took that as a cue to make his way to Quistis's office with all due haste.
Given that her office was on the second floor in a restricted zone, Squall was quite surprised to find Galbadian Troopers standing on either side of the door. They were ramrod-stiff but had a few tell-tale signs of nervousness hidden behind heavy armour.
"Not in my Garden you damn well don't..." Squall thought to himself with surprising vitriol. He wasn't precisely immune to the effect of seeing G-Army soldiers on Garden soil, so he marched up to one of the anonymous steel helmets and stared down the four red eyes with menacing intent.
"You armed, boy?"
The trooper didn't quite flinch, but after a moment of abortive stoicism, he looked over to his superior for instructions. Upon receiving a confused nod in response, the Trooper seemed to regain some of his nerve.
"Y-yes, Sir. Sidearms only, as per Garden's request."
Squall moved in closer until her was no more than an inch from the young soldier's armour-plated nose. He noted that the boy looked no older than his 'Snacks'.
"Request? Oh no, Private. That was not a request, it was in fact a piece of friendly advice. See, that little sidearm of yours better stay snug and safe inside of its holster while you are on my grounds, because if it leaves?"
Squall stepped back and cast an eye along the corridor, crowded in places with either diplomats or SeeD personnel going about their business. Squall quickly counted off who was watching what.
"There are currently no less than four SeeD combatants watching you at this very moment. If your fingers so much as graze that sidearm, I know that you will be dead within… 9 seconds. If I'm right, at least one of those watchers is armed with a weapon that will very neatly bifurcate you."
He turned back to the soldier, who was trying not to sweat unduly and failing.
"And they are waiting for you to do something stupid. Anything stupid. Concordantly, I advise you not to give them the excuse they are so sorely waiting for. Am I making myself clear, Private?"
The trooper audibly gulped before answering quietly in the affirmative.
"I'm going into that office now. Think on my advice, Private."
Squall blew through the door before either of the troopers could summon the wherewithal to try and stop him. He smiled curtly to himself once the door had closed, knowing that the two troopers would spend the rest of their trip looking for mysterious (and entirely fictitious) SeeD assassins.
He immediately surmised the reason for the two door guards, as his wife Rinoa was currently sitting down to tea with the President of Galbadia.
Jotur Karan stood a little taller than most Galbadians Squall had met, certainly taller than Deling had ever been. He was wiry and lean in a way that most Galbadian politicians were not, dark-skinned and a little mysterious with his cold composure.
Squall noticed almost immediately that he also smelled strongly of bitter almonds, a fact he stored away for future use.
"Ah, Commander Leonhart. A pleasure to make your acquaintance once again. I am sure we will have much to discuss after my speech, which I am liable to be late for if I spend another second in the company of your enchanting wife."
He shook Squall's hand perfunctorily and politely showed himself out, the two guards at the door falling smartly into step behind him.
Squall turned back to look at Rinoa, sitting in a well-tailored dress suit with her best political game face on. As soon as the door hissed closed the face was replaced with an eye-roll and a hand run through her immaculately coiffured hair. He remarked that in the ten years he had known her, she had grown into a beauty for the ages.
Well… He wanted to, anyway. What he actually remarked was:
"He smells terrible. Familiar, too..."
Rinoa shared a knowing look as Quistis bustled in from her adjoining office, carrying a neat dossier that was likely for Rinoa's appraisal.
"I do so adore those times when you two get all lovey-dovey with each other…" She commented sarcastically as she took a seat on the opposite sofa. Rinoa smiled wanly and cocked an eyebrow at her husband.
"I think it might be something to do with the fact that I only heard his heart beat three times in the last 20 minutes."
Quistis looked at the two of them with honest bafflement as they seemed to communicate silently. Eventually she pursed her lips irritably and tossed the dossier onto the coffee table.
"I've changed my mind, the two of you are awful. What do you mean about his heartbeat?"
Rinoa shot Quistis an apologetic look. She worked pretty hard to make sure nobody saw the 'Sorceress' part of her, but she often forgot that not everybody can hear the blood pumping through people's bodies.
"Sorry… I wish I had time to explain, but I should probably be present for this speech. Walk with us?"
Quistis shrugged in the same way she used to when Squall was being particularly obstinate, motioned for her to lead on. The three of them left the office and began making their way across the mezzanine toward the Auditorium. Squall noted the Galbadians had mostly filed in to the large room for the President's commencing speech, leaving only their soldier escorts trying (and failing) to look tough on the lower levels.
Squall could tell that Quistis was about as happy to see them as he was, and elected to ask something they'd both been wondering for the last few weeks.
"Rin, why did we have to have this conference here. You know how Garden feels about the G-Army. I mean… We'll work for them, sure… But having them here feels… wrong."
Rinoa simply smiled with satisfaction at her own political posturing.
"I brought them here because Timber is going to petition for Independence soon. We're planning on calling for a referendum in the next few months. The rest of the Republic needs to remember that more than any other province, SeeD is contractually committed to Timber's sovereignty. We agreed that you're the one thing they're scared of… Well, apart from me, obviously…"
If she was disheartened by that thought, she erased it from her face within a moment. Quistis seemed to pick up on it though, and was thankfully tactful enough not to push it.
"Hmm… clever. The Galbadians have been off their game ever since arriving, and they usually like a bit of posturing before they get down to business. If they tried a formation parade in here it would be raining limbs…"
Rinoa brightened and gave a smile that was proud to the edge of smugness.
"Zone came up with the idea, actually."
Squall rolled his eyes at that thought.
"I can just picture it, the three of you squatting on the floor in some Senate corridor…"
Quistis laughed demurely with one hand over her mouth.
"Oh God, you don't still do that, do you?"
Rinoa huffed petulantly, contrasting with her prim and poised attire in a way that did something funny to Squall's train of thought…
As they walked into the auditorium, a steel fish-eye watched them coolly from high above.
TV cameras lined the sides of the grand room as the last of the Galbadian senators shuffled into place. Squall and Quistis took their place among the Garden representatives and watched as President Karan took to the central podium.
Even after all these years, he still had to work hard to shake off the image of Matron… bleeding into the carpet over Rinoa's prone body…
"Quistis, are you junctioned?"
He shook the image out of his mind as the President cleared his throat and studied his notes. On the great screens behind him Galbadian flags were rustling patriotically.
"No, but I've got 10 SeeDs with GFs on this floor, and I think Selphie has one on her too. Why, are you?"
Squall looked around at the room, knowing that everything was secure but feeling on edge. He knew it was probably just being here again. He never liked G-Garden after the War…
"Yeah. I have one…"
Quistis frowned and pushed her spectacles a little further up her nose.
"Oh Hyne, Squall. I don't know how you can stand to have that thing in your head…"
She crossed her arm as Karan's speech ramped up a notch, evoking the pastoral history of Galbadia with its rolling hills and rugged souls taming the blah-blah-blah…
"I like it because it's quiet. It doesn't make a sound unless you order it to."
Quistis curled her lip in disdain and cocked an eyebrow at him.
"That's what the rest of us find so upsetting about it… Just sitting there in the back of your head, silently watching you… Cid should have thrown that damn lamp into the ocean instead of giving it to us."
Squall was only half-listening, feeling that something was entirely off about this room. Granted he hadn't spent more than an hour in here since the Battle for Galbadia Garden, but things get changed or replaced in ten years…
But, were the screens always connected to that big mass of cables and electronics?
Images of Matron descending in a shower of smashed glass filled his mind as some dim instinct rose from its slumber. Squall was already on his feet before the thought reached his forebrain, but by then the cables were descending. He was running as the oily black mass seeming to shimmer and tessellate, resolving itself into the shape of a terrible octopus with one horrid steel eye.
President Karan never saw the monster that did him in, a cold machine tentacle passing clean through his chest cavity as if it were made of butter. A silent spray of blood from his surprised mouth and the robot was on the ground, its seven remaining tentacles splayed and ready to fend off fresh attackers.
Squall had seen these things during a joint exercise in the Kashkabald, horrid automatons that could burst out of the sand and drag the unsuspecting down to their deaths within seconds.
The Octo-Elastoid wriggled and pulsed with maleficent energies, its red gaze looking at the twitching back of it's impaled victim. Screams and panic were breaking out among the politicians, but Squall wasn't overly concerned. He checked his ammunition and cocked the hammer of his Gunblade, sensed that Quistis stood at his left to support him.
"I've called for a combat medic; do you have any healing spells on you?!"
Squall rolled his neck as the robot attempted to shake off the President's body with a disdain no machine should be capable of conveying.
"It wouldn't matter. He's already dead."
Quistis was angry, her usual textbook poise thrown out of the window.
"I know that, but we can't just let it be known that SeeD allowed the President of Galbadia be murdered right in front of our eyes and didn't bother to ask for a damned medic!"
Squall motioned for her to follow him around to the right staircase, feeling the eye of the Elastoid on him. It would likely have leapt onto him if not for the sudden surprising intrusion of the deceased President, who gripped two sickly arms around the tentacle impaling him.
Quistis gasped in horror as the two (clearly broken) arms wrenched themselves backwards, gripping the tentacle and pulling as the President further impaled himself on the steel protrusion, leaving a trail of foul-smelling viscera in his wake.
"How very silly of you. How vEry, veRY, SILLY."
The flesh of the President began to twist, bubble and burst with cancerous growths and pustules, and the skin of his face melted away as if made of wax.
"YOu'Ve dONe soMEthiNG VErY siLLy INdEeD…"