11
CHAPTER 11 – STORMING THE CASTLE
Hand over hand, one step at a time, Rinoa scaled the thick iron chain to its summit. To her benefit, it was taut enough, long enough, and at a manageable enough angle for her to climb without fear of losing her grip. It still did nothing to calm her mounting anxiety; she doubted even a guardrail would have made a difference at so high up. All she could do was her best to not look down. Since reaching the halfway point, she'd even stopped looking over her shoulder to see how Quistis was faring. Her eyes stayed focused on the castle in the sky just ahead, its dark spires looming in the moonlight.
Ultimately, it was a sight no more reassuring. What awaited them was no safe refuge from the twisted land they'd crossed, but the fight of their lives, with the future of their friends, and indeed all mankind hanging in the balance. Closer the hovering, upended plateau drew. Several more times since starting up, they'd seen those same beacons of light go soaring off into the distance, whether from the castle's apex or returning from the direction of the town. Each time, she and Quistis had halted immediately. However unlikely it was for them to be spotted under the cover of night, they had nothing to keep from being flung off the chain at a moment's notice.
The climb had given Rinoa ample opportunity to reflect, to consider how her friends were handling themselves since they'd set out. And of course, there was Squall's whereabouts, still unaccounted for. She didn't doubt his ability to fend for himself; the lengths he'd gone for her were proof plenty. Still, it was practically instinctual on her part. Telling herself not to worry would only make things worse. Realizing she'd yet to come up with a plan of action for once they'd reached the top was what did the trick in the end.
Almost there, and still I've got nothing.
A lifetime's worth of memories not her own were at Rinoa's beck and call, etched upon her mind. With them came the most intimate knowledge one could ask for of their foe, and even the schematics of her lair. Though she'd never before set foot within the stronghold, she could perfectly envision each and every one of its halls and, with some mental fumbling, even stitch together their blueprint. Finding their way to Ultimecia would be no issue at all. Overcoming her was another matter. Even given all she knew, and despite whatever practice she and Quistis had gotten in with their newfound power, the experience gap was too wide. How they were to persevere still eluded her. But persevere they would. If not them, who possibly could?
At last, the chain gave way to solid, flat earth. She stepped off and looked back to see Quistis surmount the last hurdle.
"So far, so good," she exhaled as she straightened herself out. "Funny... I was expecting that chain to cut off halfway up in mid-air. Everything else has at least a few chunks missing."
"You think she'd accept living in squalor with the rest of her subjects?" Rinoa asked rhetorically.
That their enemy could spare her castle from the effects of time compression was no surprise. If anything, it only further illustrated the distance which separated them from her. Their shared power was each but a fragment of Hyne's. Hers was that power as it had always been intended, complete and all-encompassing.
"Then, what do you say we drag her back down to earth with the rest of us?" Quistis said.
I guess confidence is half the battle…
Rinoa nodded before turning back to face the castle. Up it stretched into the sky, the fine details still obscured by shadow even at close proximity. None of it looked dilapidated to the extent of Balamb, at least. Neither could she pick out an entrance; a sheer rock face impeded their path forward. And so, they circled around the plateau's rim in search of a way up. To their dismay, the rock barrier followed suit. Before long however, a gap revealed itself, giving way to a wide stone staircase extending out to meet the south end. A pair of looming, reinforced wood doors stood at the top, framed by decorated columns to either side.
They turned in, and started climbing the steps. Though Rinoa would have preferred another means of entry than the front door, she knew for a fact there were none available. Ultimecia had taken great pains to forge as impregnable a stronghold as she could manage, one that would stand in the face of any assault launched by SeeD in her own time. Many had come. And indeed, each and every one had been laid to waste. Only one with intimate knowledge of the dangers lurking within could hope to make their way to the throne room.
"Stay close to me," Rinoa said as they surmounted the final step.
As she put her hands to the right-hand door, she paused to consider if their trip to the top could really be so simple. She and Ultimecia had shared minds for months on end; the sorceress knew all she did, and more importantly, that she knew as much. Who was to say she hadn't overhauled her castle defenses since then, in anticipation of an attack by her and the others? Her determination faltered for a moment as she considered the possibility.
"Understood," Quistis replied. She came up right beside her, and placed her own hands to the door. "Lead the way."
Her vote of confidence was all it took to restore Rinoa's. Quistis trusted her, and that was enough for now.
Here goes nothing.
She pushed forward. With enough applied force, the door slowly gave way with a sickly creak. Inward it swung to reveal the entrance hall, just as she'd pictured it in her mind's eye. The night's darkness was finally broken by the burning flame of candlelight. Scores sat evenly spaced along the ancient walls. They continued burning, even as the door parted further; there was no night breeze to extinguish them, after all. Exquisite portraits, gilded tapestry, suits of armor, and a number of other antique relics decorated the wide chamber from end to end. A streak of violet carpet ran atop the central staircase to the upper level, splitting off to meet a pair of stone balconies leading to the east and west wings.
Altogether, it put even her father's foyer to shame. She spared none of it a second glance as she and Quistis carefully shut the door behind them. What attention she could spare was directed instead to the ceiling. A massive chandelier hung above, ornately decorated with a massive chunk of violet crystal protruding down from the center.
"Don't walk down the middle," she whispered to Quistis. "Follow me."
Along the wall she carefully began to sidle, still keeping her focus on the chandelier. She didn't know if it would make any difference in the end; how much motion would be liable to set the trap off, or from what distance, was unclear. That she knew of it at all was her only leg up over all those who had fallen victim to it in the future.
"You have to wonder who she's looking to impress," Quistis commented as they started rounding the room's corner.
Herself, of course.
For all of Ultimecia's bluster, and even complacency, there had been no hiding her feelings of inadequacy from Rinoa. This was a woman who, not satisfied with her triumph over SeeD in her own time, had sought one over history itself purely for her own validation. Vanity was at the very core of her being.
Before she could explain, a faint crinkling like broken glass reached her ears. She froze, holding her hand out before Quistis. Her eyes beheld the crystal in the chandelier slowly descending. Her efforts had been for naught; they'd triggered the castle's first line of defense all the same.
"Spread out!" she commanded.
She bolted away from Quistis. Her fellow sorceress needed no further instruction; she tore off in the other direction, quickly circling around to the opposite side of the hall. By the time she'd gotten into position, the crystal finally broke free, and plummeted to the floor. It did not smash on impact, however. Rather, it stopped just short, and remained hovering in place.
The massive purple jewel narrowed as it stretched upward from its base, forming a considerably more slender torso. Jagged shards protruded from every angle along its body. They were deterrent enough to keep her from engaging at close range, even before the long, taloned limbs suddenly burst forth from its midriff. With an airy, inhuman screech, a fanged maw reared itself from the gem's apex. Its eyes above immediately landed on her.
Steeling herself for the first exchange, Rinoa began drawing energy into the palm of her hand. Though she'd known of the crystal monster, destroying it was another matter. Its weaknesses remained a mystery. Ultimecia never would have stood for such a thing. But then, neither had she expected a pair of trespassers bearing power to match her own; SeeD no longer possessed GFs in her own time.
Every diamond has its weak points.
Its mouth parted again with a hiss. As it prepared to charge forward, lightning leapt from Quistis' outstretched hands across the hall. It soared straight for the monster's rear, hitting it directly in the back. And yet, there came no screech of agony, nor any reaction at all. The electricity rebounded on impact, deflected towards the far wall. With a crash, two neighboring suits of armor were blown apart, their components sent scattering all over the floor with a raucous clanging.
Well, that's one element down.
Unfazed, the crystal lunged for Rinoa. She leapt out of the way as it came flying at her, and swung its claw through the air. It missed her by mere feet. Recalling the potency holy magic had on Adel, she called forth a blast into her palm. The white light materialized within a second. It took her no longer to pick a target. The creature's other hand whizzed straight for her. She unleashed the blast as the claw nearly completed its arc.
The jagged, violet limb exploded on contact, prompting Rinoa to shield herself from the shrapnel. The staggered creature reeled back with another scream. She darted away, taking refuge behind a stone pillar holding the second landing up. By the time she turned back to assess the situation, it still lingered in place, the blown apart chunk of its exterior yet to rejuvenate or otherwise mend. Instead, three massive spikes shot out from its body, one after another.
She barely ducked back behind the pillar in time to avoid being skewered. As the massive chunks of crystal flew past, colliding with the wall and shattering into dozens of fragments, she recalled the ice spike Squall had taken through his shoulder. She'd very nearly given him up for dead that night. Perhaps he even would be, were it not for Ultimecia's healing spell. With what little time they'd been allotted to train, she and Quistis had made only marginal headway on harnessing their new power in such a manner, instead seeking to prioritize offensive spellcraft. And as she mustered the courage to peer back around the column, her fellow sorceress made clear the degree to which she had already progressed.
Six balls of gleaming white light shot from Quistis' body, splitting off and arcing towards the crystal monster. It turned to face her, and fired another volley of its own projectiles in return. Quistis was already on the move by the time they came flying at her. She dashed out of the way, tumbling to evade any stray shards. The holy blasts by comparison homed in on the monster, re-converging to strike it dead center. Even larger chunks of crystal flew everywhere. The creature spasmed in place as it let out its most enraged, sustained scream yet. The pitch climbed higher and higher, to where Rinoa soon had to plug her ears. Its body began to glow an ever more vibrant shade of purple, the brightness intensifying to where she could hardly stand to look upon it any longer. She ducked for cover back behind the pillar.
The explosion rocked the entrance hall. The ground beneath her feet shook. Momentarily, she wondered if her position were a safe one; should the pillar and those nearest falter, there would be nothing to stop the balcony above from crashing down on her. She stifled the urge to flee as what was left of the monster went hurtling past in huge, fist-sized chunks of violet hail. She could do nothing but hold on for dear life until the billowing energy storm finally died down.
Once it had, and she finally felt safe to remove her hands from her ears, she peeked back around. Quistis mirrored her from behind the opposite landing's support pillars. In the middle, a giant scorch mark had been left seared upon the floor between them, surrounded by fine dust which might have once been quartz of some kind. All around the spacious chamber – now much more dimly lit on account of how many candles had succumbed to the blast – lay many more toppled over antiques and suits of armor, all smashed to pieces.
"That was some welcome!" Quistis finally called over as she stepped out of cover.
"I was hoping we could get around it," Rinoa said back as she did the same. "No such luck, I guess. Nice work, by the way."
"Sure thing. But how about a little more advance notice next time? I'm no mind reader."
Rinoa nodded. She turned to the stairs, and started up to the second landing.
"Will do. Just stick close for now. I'll get us there. You can bet on that."
The screeching of the demon locomotive's brakes was what first wrested Squall's attention. The gradual deceleration to follow stole away his balance, and left no further room for doubt. After what felt like hours – there was no way to tell for sure – they had arrived at their destination. Reorienting himself, he turned to Gilgamesh. The swordsman's dead stare met his own. They exchanged a nod, followed by Zantetsuken as it re-emerged from his cloak. Squall took it respectfully, and gave it a quick swipe through the air; still, he could barely believe how little it weighed.
He next swept his gaze across the rest of their retinue; Laguna, Ellone, Odine, Kiros, and Ward maintained their distance on the other side of the carriage. His father gave a nod of his own, prepared to let the two of them take the lead as they'd discussed. Ellone looked concerned, but flashed him an understanding smile. Satisfied, Squall turned back to face the fleshy, windowless carriage wall before him. There was no telling just what or who awaited them on the other side, much less the environment. As the train creature finally jolted to a halt, he raised high the enchanted scimitar, and sliced through its hide.
The organic material parted with almost no resistance at all. Another few slashes, and the sagging strands of severed flesh fell away, forming an incision wide enough for them all to easily pass through, and hopefully not prone to stitching itself up so quickly. To his relief, solid ground extended out before them: a metal train platform, dilapidated, yet seemingly sturdy enough to tread upon. To his alarm, a humanoid figure unlike any he'd ever seen stood, or rather floated, in waiting for them. From her sheer white skin, to the gaudy pastel colors of her robes, she looked as thoroughly unnatural as anything else he'd seen in this reality.
He leapt into action the moment she raised her glowing right hand to him. Out he shot onto the platform without reservation. A slice through the torso followed, Zantetsuken's blade passing through with ease. The woman screamed in agony as her body parted at the midriff and toppled over. There came no spray of blood. Instead, her bisected figure rapidly shriveled up, and began dissipating into a hazy mist.
"Keep your wits about you!"
Gilgamesh's gruff command pulled him out of his gawking. He raised his head up in time to see the man in red tear off down the length of the platform. There, encroaching upon the locomotive's fore, an entire horde of spectral figures hovered in waiting, all identical to the first one in appearance. Those nearest had taken notice of Squall's attack, and turned back around to face them. Gilgamesh charged right in, dual wielding Excalibur and Masamune in either hand, and went to work on the closest two. Both shrieked as they were run through, and swiftly finished off.
Squall prepared to follow after, when the familiarity of their battleground struck him. Though he'd never seen it in such shambles before, the basic layout of the run-down, decrepit train station resembled Balamb's own too closely. The harder he stared, the more obvious the similarities became. Had they actually been aboard the demon train for so long to make it there from Galbadia? Or had it simply been moving that much faster than a standard express line? Had it run clear across the ocean? Or, as with the orphanage, did the divide between island and mainland no longer exist at all?
Why bring us here, anyway?
A film-like layer of violet suddenly obscured his vision. He pivoted within the translucent bubble of energy as it enveloped him, sealing him inside its clutches. Down from a hole in the blown open roof descended its conjurer: another sorceress, flanked by a second just behind. As they settled into place, and the sphere containing him fully coalesced, Squall put Zantetsuken to work again. The blade cut through the energy barrier no differently than any physical matter. His would-be captors followed shortly.
"You alright?"
He spun around as the twin sorceresses fell. Laguna had emerged from the side of the train with Kiros and Ward flanking him. Ellone and Odine carefully stepped out just behind.
"Yeah," Squall insisted.
He set any further quandaries aside, and directed his focus back to the stretch of platform ahead. Gilgamesh continued to slice his way through any opposition in his path, clearing the way by himself.
"Let's move. Watch your step."
Onward he led the party along the terminal's length. As they drew closer to the demon train's head, the mob of fleeing pedestrians spilling out of its open maw caught his attention. They scattered in all directions, spreading themselves too thin to be rounded up. It wasn't for any lack of effort. On the contrary, the sorceresses appeared to be more concerned with them than the man in red currently decimating their ranks; only those presently acquainted with the edge of his blades seemed to pay him any mind at all.
Some priorities…
Closer they drew to the exit, or what was now left of it. Squall took another look back, to be sure another group of hostiles hadn't flanked them from behind. The coast remained clear for the moment. Better still, the throngs of panicked passengers were still far enough removed. There would be no need to contend with them. Squall heaved a sigh of relief; the potholes ripped from the floor were hazard enough.
"Gilgamesh!" he called out as he ushered his group out the entryway.
The swordsman stood in the center of the chaos. Though he towered above anyone else on the platform, the horde had rendered him cut off from the rest of the group. He signaled to go on ahead with a swipe of Excalibur up in the air. The people running scared all around him became all the more riled up for it. Squall nodded back, and left him to fend for himself; it was the one thing he knew for a fact this man was more than capable of.
He raced outside, surmounting the jumbled mass of metal that barely resembled the station turnstiles. The street outside was no different; nothing about the town looked as it ought to. Every building in sight sported as many gaping holes as the orphanage, the pavement itself as many divots as the train platform. He didn't waste time trying to make sense of it all. As he spotted his group standing opposite three sorceresses in the middle of the road, and the violet bubble beginning to encompass them all, he went to work.
He cleared the station steps in a single leap. A second later, he split the energy field apart, paying mind not to push the blade too far in; his captured friends and family reeled back from the tip as it punched through. He then turned to face down their three attackers. He swung for the nearest one, but missed as it floated backwards out of range. It converged with its fellow clones, rallying together in a tightly knit cluster. Squall stood his ground. He brought Zantetsuken up in a defensive stance, and darted his eyes between them, anticipating an incoming fireball or lightning bolt. Instead, the trio pushed themselves ever closer together. And then, their very bodies began to meld.
Together the three women congealed into a sickening morass of pastel colors, twisting and expanding. The sight nauseated Squall, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. The more defined its shape gradually became, the harder his brain fought to make sense of what this garish mishmash was turning into. It was already twice as tall as him, and easily three times as wide. Any trace of the sorceresses' pale skin had been subsumed by the swirling colors. An upper torso had become distinguishable; the rainbow-like gradient gave way to a muted bronze chest-plate. Unnaturally long, stretched out arms sprouted from either side, and flopped about as the transformation proceeded. The lower half meanwhile had become a thick coiled tail like a snake's, or a giant worm's. Finally a face emerged from between its excessively broad shoulders; its hue was the same as the chest, its dead eyes the same piercing white as Gilgamesh's.
"You know, you've really let yourselves go, ladies!" Laguna nervously joked.
Squall didn't dare turn to shoot his father a look; he knew he could leave that to the others. His eyes instead swiveled between those drooping, taloned appendages, each longer than he was tall. Their reach far exceeded his own, as did their elasticity his potential avenues of attack. As the creature opened its jaw, there came not a woman's shriek, but a roar.
"I'll hold it off!" he called back over his shoulder. "Just get moving!"
He didn't care where they ended up retreating to for the moment. His only concern was that they didn't present themselves as additional targets.
"Don't be stupid!" Kiros shouted out. "There's no way you're going to-"
The arm swung in like a whip before he could finish. Squall darted forward and to the side as it slammed into the ground just feet from where he'd been standing. The sorceress roared again as he sliced the tendril in twain, the severed half falling limply to the pavement. Still, his focus stayed locked onto the other one; he would be ready the moment it lashed out. Only as a torrent of fire spewed forth from her mouth did he realize his blunder. He frantically backpedaled to evade the flamethrower's arc. In so doing, a pothole caught his foot.
He lost his balance and tumbled backwards onto his rear. His momentary wince of pain was negligible in lieu of having cleared the fire breath. It continued to burn upon the pavement just before him, forming a barrier between himself and the worm sorceress. It would be no impediment to his opponent, however; her remaining arm could still easily reach him. And there he lay, knocked from his feet, helpless to do anything as a gleaming light formed within the monster's grasp.
"Squall!" Ellone screamed his name from behind.
Damn it!
He fought to push himself back up with one hand. With his other, he hoisted Zantetsuken in awaiting. The time had come to see if its enchantment could cut through offensive spellcraft as well. In the end however, he never got the chance; the blast faded from the sorceress' grasp before she could launch it at him. She let out another roar. Someone else's hand grabbed his left arm and hoisted him upright before he could get his bearings.
Ward hurriedly dragged him out of the fray and back to the rest of the group. As he stumbled along after, he turned back to see the sorceress writhing beyond the wall of flames. A sword protruded from her chest, just as the Hyperion had pierced through Adel's. And as she thrashed about, so the tattered red cloak hanging off her back whipped wildly. Gilgamesh clung on for dear life, his other hand fumbling with Masamune in pursuit of a killing wound.
"Truly, he is not of our kind," Dr. Odine mused as Squall rejoined the group. How he could remain so calm was perhaps most stunning of all.
"More fun for him, then," Laguna said. "Let's get outta here!"
Squall hesitated to heed his father's words. Despite the reprieve he'd gifted them, he couldn't bring himself to leave Gilgamesh behind. It wasn't a question of whether he could fend for himself; the man was clearly a capable warrior, with or without Zantetsuken. Rather, Squall felt he'd yet to prove himself deserving of the trust placed in him. He wasn't doing his part in this battle. How could he ever call himself worthy of the sword he held in his hand, or Gilgamesh's respect, if he failed to put it to use when it mattered most?
"Do you know somewhere we can go around here, Squall?" Ellone abruptly asked him. "Somewhere we'll be safe?"
That was all it took to set his priorities straight. With a flash of intuition, his error in judgment became clear. Though he and Gilgamesh were comrades, sharing a mutual interest in Ultimecia's defeat, they each had their own reasons for fighting. In placing the swordsman's approval on a pedestal, Squall had nearly lost sight of his own: to safeguard his family and friends, and the chance for a brighter future with all of them. Their well-being preceded any other concerns.
Thanks, Sis.
"I'll see what I can do," he answered. He briskly jaunted ahead down the street, waving for them all to follow after. "Let's move!"
Away they fled from the still-thrashing abomination. Based on the train station's position, Squall led them on in what he believed to be the direction of the shore. There was nothing else for him to rely on; every building or landmark which might have once tipped him off was now unrecognizable. Any attempts to discern his surroundings were often short-lived, as the ravaged road necessitated he keep his eyes to the ground.
To their benefit, they encountered no further resistance along the way. The flock of sorceresses had seemingly converged upon the station ahead of the demon train's arrival. They had clearly been standing by to receive the captured townsfolk aboard. For what reason, he still couldn't guess. He could at least assume their intentions, and by extension Ultimecia's, hadn't been murderous from the outset; surely the train itself would have been able to accomplish that much on its own. More concerning was the utter desolation which had befallen Balamb, unbroken with every twist and turn he took through its streets. There wasn't a soul anywhere in sight.
Eventually, the ocean came into view as they reached a familiar intersection. To one end, a winding decline led the way down to the south-side docks. On the corner just before it stood the dilapidated sandstone home of his friend. He had half a mind to knock on the door, in the hope Zell's mother at least might still be inside.
Who knows if she'd even remember me?
"Hey, down there!"
The voice rang out from the rooftops in the still night air. Squall looked up to the house's blown apart second landing. To his amazement, a familiar face grinned back at him.
"You made it!" Irvine called down. "You know, something told me it had to be you making such a racket out there!"
"What are you doing up there?!" Squall yelled back. "Have you seen the others?! Are they…?!"
"Don't worry! The gang's all here! Well, almost. I'll tell 'em to open up for you guys. Just hang tight!"
The sharpshooter dipped out of sight. Squall craned his neck back down to the front door in disbelief; had they really all made it there ahead of him? Whatever celebrations ensued between Laguna and Ellone escaped him as they waited. Moments later, the door opened, and out flew Zell and Selphie.
"Squall!" the girl beamed. "Sis! Everyone! We've been hoping you all were gonna show up soon!"
"It's not safe out here," Zell followed up, motioning to the door. "Bet you don't need me to tell you that, though. Come on in."
Squall stepped aside to allow the rest of his companions passage. One by one they made their way in, Ward having to hunch himself over just to clear the door frame. Recalling how ill suited the house's dimensions had been for a large group before, he shuddered to imagine what a tight squeeze awaited them all inside. It couldn't be helped, of course. Or perhaps it could, provided the effects of time compression had worked in their favor where the home's layout was concerned.
"New sword?" Selphie asked, pointing to Zantetsuken.
"It's… a long story," Squall brushed off the question. "What's going on here? What do you know about these… things all around town?"
"They came from the castle," Zell replied.
"Castle?"
"Yeah, you can see it from up top, out around where the Garden used to be. They just flew in, and started rounding up everybody they could find. They keep coming and going in waves. They've probably taken everyone else in the whole damn town by this point."
"Rinoa and Quistis went to check it out a while ago," Selphie piped up. "They must've made it there by now. Fingers crossed they'll be taking Ultimecia down any minute."
Squall could merely gawk at her complacency. Or was it optimism? Neither would do for him.
"We have to get out there and help them," he declared.
"Hate to say it, but I really don't see how we can," Zell said. "You saw them go up against Adel. They're the only ones with that kind of power now. What good are we gonna be to them with our GFs gone?"
"I wasn't talking about you two."
He craned his neck to glance back across the street. As if waiting for his entrance cue, there the man in red rags stood imposingly atop one of the rooftops. He leapt down to ground level without a moment's hesitation, his landing graceful as a professional acrobat.
"Sorry about that… again," Squall called out to him as he crossed over to their position.
"Who the hell…?" Zell muttered under his breath.
Don't ask. We haven't got the time.
"My comrades," Squall quickly introduced the pair to Gilgamesh. "They say the sorceress has set up her base a little ways outside town. That's where her minions have taken the people who live here. Maybe we can hitch a ride?"
The man said nothing for a moment. Neither did Zell or Selphie, whether out of alarm, confusion, or respect for their conversation.
"Then I believe this is where we part ways," he finally replied, extending one hand out. "You have fought well enough. Stay here with your friends, and leave the rest to me."
"I have two more who've already gone off to face her," Squall added. "I won't just sit around and let them die out there. I'm coming with you. That's final."
The tone he'd taken with Gilgamesh surprised even himself. The moment the words left his mouth, he wondered if he'd just made a serious mistake; his brazenness might have just sullied whatever good standing they'd had. Had he perhaps even laid the ground for another duel between them? The swordsman's dead stare left his intentions impossible to read. Despite his reservations, Squall fought his hardest to keep his own face free of any tells.
And then, there came a nod. The man pulled back his hand the next moment. All at once, the mounting tension which had wrested Squall's entire body evaporated. He spun right back around to Zell and Selphie as it happened, hoping Gilgamesh wouldn't notice.
"Look after everyone," he told them, fighting to shake off his nerves. "That's an order. We'll be back."
Snapping out of their own bewilderment, they each gave him the SeeD salute.
"You got it," Zell said.
"See you soon," Selphie followed up.
Satisfied, he gave his own salute, and turned back to Gilgamesh. Together they started off down the road due east. With the embarrassment still fresh in his mind, he alternated his focus between the pavement and the skies. The awkward silence between them lasted until they reached the next intersection.
"All this time I've been wondering," his cloaked companion spoke. "Your insistence on following in my footsteps… is it naivete? Or something more? Now, I finally have my answer."
Squall stumbled to a halt, and turned to face Gilgamesh. A lump caught in his throat. He swore he even felt his heart skip a nonexistent beat.
"Your faith in your friends and loved ones, your determination to see them safe… in all my travels, few have shown themselves to be so honorable as yourself. For that, you have my respect. And for that, I deem you worthy of joining me in this fight."
Honorable?
The man in red resumed his march forward, bidding Squall to follow. And so he did, without a word; he couldn't come up with a single one no matter how intensely he twisted his tongue. He was speechless. Just minutes ago, he'd resigned himself to having forfeited Gilgamesh's favor in abandoning him to face the worm. And yet, in recognition of his efforts, of his loyalty to those he held dear, that same trust he'd placed in Squall had only been further cemented.
All because I just… did what I wanted to do. What I needed to do.
It was no different than when he'd launched himself into space for Rinoa. Then just as now, as he prepared to go charging headlong into Ultimecia's fortress, he'd barely spared it a second thought. It might not have been the best choice, but it was clearly the right one. The one he had to take, and the one he would take, no matter the cost. Not for his duty as a leader, but as a human being.
Thank you.
"Here they come again."
Squall looked up to the sky in time to see several streaks of gleaming light go flying overhead. Before he could react, a bolt of lightning shot upward from just beside him. He quickly turned back to Gilgamesh, who held his still fizzling hand directed upward; the blast had been at least as powerful as from any GF conjuration he'd ever seen. The electricity lit up the night as it climbed higher and higher. It failed to hit any of the moving targets, but Squall knew that was never the point. More perturbing was their complete indifference as it passed right in front of several. Onward they soared, not deviating even slightly from their flight path.
Are they blind?!
"Hey!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. He tore back down the street from whence they'd come, waving Zantetsuken in the air like a banner. "Down here!"
Apparently, that much was sufficient. He ground to a stop as two sorceresses broke off from the flock, and zoomed down to meet him. Both landed roughly ten feet away, blockading the way forward. One raised its arm. As expected, the violet energy bubble started to materialize around him. This time, he made no effort to breach it. Before it could seal however, in came Gilgamesh racing to his side, stepping within the fast closing sphere of his own volition.
"I knew it," he muttered as it finally enveloped them both. "These minions of hers can't see me."
"They… what?" Squall asked incredulously.
"It was the same with the ones by the train. None of them acknowledged me, or even tried to fight back."
Squall had noticed as much. For that matter, he recalled how the train itself had pivoted clear away from Gilgamesh when he'd tried to draw its attention. Before he could think it over any further, the bubble began levitating. Up they rose, drawn by the sorceress who'd cast the incantation. As they cleared the rooftops, he finally saw the hulking outline of a castle sitting in the distance. Their captor promptly set off for it, dragging them along for the ride.
Rinoa, Quistis… hang in there. We're on our way.