...and as such was the muffled beat of a man's feet carrying him nimbly ahead on his way. The omnipresent darkness did not stop him, because his eyes adjusted to it rapidly; the thundering rain from the tumultuous heavens above did not stop him, because its painful chill and sting only served to push him faster down his path. His eyes burned bloodshot red despite the cold air, and tears rolled down his face without pause; his thoughts were a mess, as was he. He was too distressed to notice anything around him; the trees towering into the dark sky, the moon peeking in between the branches...only the path ahead through the forest, whose end seemed to be his destination. To his pain and anguish, he quickened his pace until the muscles and bones in his legs seemed to cry out for mercy. The road of trees seemingly had no end; he felt himself begin to succumb to the pain arching through his legs when he arrived at the end of the forest.... Greeted by two full moons, each one casting a halo around itself, shining through the dark clouds. But below him was a massive ravine, stretching easily a hundred feet down, at the bottom a river crashing along its course at a blinding pace. He dropped to his knees, defeated by the ravine; his pursuers would find him soon.. pursuers... who are they... why are they chasing me... He raced through his thoughts in vain in hopes he could remember why he had been bolting through the forest, and who he was bolting away from...instead of thought came anger and frustration, and he dug his fingers into the face of the cliff and roared incoherently to heaven... He heard the foliage behind him rustle with the footsteps of four or five men; and five men there were, four men in the same black uniform, and one man in front, in a flowing silk robe that sparkled in the moonlight. Hooked over his shoulder and protruding in front of his face was the needle-sharp blade of a short scythe, anchored into a sheath on his back. The man at the cliff startled and confused, backed as far away from them as he could, until he was at the edge of the ravine. The first man spoke, his voice gentle yet worried... "Serien, come back...." Serien...is that....my name... "Serien, don't do this..." what is my name...my name....my name!? "That's not my name!" he shouted, standing upright yet utterly confused. "Serien, we're your friends, let us help you..." he said, reassuringly as he slowly approached him. "You're not my friends! My name's not Serien! Get BACK!" he shouted. The tall man stopped, but gazed at Serien with honest, comforting eyes. "Serien, we need to help you...Serien, you're sick...let us help you..." he said as he approached a few more steps. "Get back! Get back!" he growled at his pursuers again and again. The tall man began approaching more quickly now, intent on helping the other man back to the mainland. The other man, worried and afraid, felt his fear coursing through him, gripping him by the neck, and squeezing...squeezing... Until his fear exploded; he screamed into the sky and the pupils of his eyes began to give off a sharp, fiery glow. He then collapsed to the ground, shaking uncontrollably as he shouted and cursed incoherently. And as this happened, a massive, deafening bout of thunder began, and the clouds began to convulse and wither away into dust. The rain ceased falling; the full moons and the vast sea of stars overhead illuminated the night. The stars seemed to burn with hellish intensity; the shadows of the forest and the ravine, and the man at the edge...all shifted and danced under the blazing field of lanterns in the sky. The man...Serien...sat at the edge grasping his head, struggling with the chaos he was unleashing. His echoing screams seemed to bounce off the stars and sound away forever...and as Serien screamed even louder, blood began to fall out of his mouth. Soon, as if seared by fire, his arms were scarred by the turbulence ricocheting through them, and blood began to spill out of them as well. As more and more of his blood left him, the stars in the sky began to spin and dance in intricate patterns, weaving in and out of an endless deep blue sky and through and behind the moons. Suddenly, the forest behind them burst into flames, forcing the five intruders further towards Serien... From the east came a dull shimmer of bright light; the night sky was being pushed back by the force of a rising sun, struggling to pull itself above the earth. Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently as the night sky was thrown back to the other side of the planet. The sun hung at the top of a cloudless blue sky, the shine and radiance nearly blinding. And as the sun had finished rising from its own grave, Serien's body, drained and lifeless, slumped over and tumbled headfirst down the ravine. The tall man, recovering from his awe and shock, ran after Serien, only to be grabbed in the color by one of the soldiers... "Sir! Don't go!" he wailed. The tall man growled and punched the soldier in the gut, then turned and leapt after Serien's falling, lifeless form, his eyes burning with determination... squaresoft presents final fantasy ix producer: Shine director: Shine co-producer: Wei associate director: Rellik associate character design: Wei associate weapons design: Rellik chief of editing: Wei Two bodies falling to the ground...silently yet breathtakingly fast. Serien's eyes began to crack open as he neared the river below; the tall man still focused intently on Serien, falling below him... As they both fell dangerously low, 15 feet above the river, a rush echoed through both of them, feeling like a hammer to the back of the head. Serien and the other man were knocked out cold. . . . wake up... As much as he tried, Serien's eyes wouldn't open...it seemed he could hear, but the voices became muffled and distant. His struggling to wake up only served to tire him more; he again fell into a deep, indisturbable sleep. . . . wake up...can you hear me...please wake up... . . . Serien awoke seemingly many hours later; night had already fallen. He found himself in a large room that he’d never seen before...but it seemed like a warm, welcoming place; it seemed like a room where one would entertain guests. A warm light came from an immense fireplace built into the wall and 2 racks of small lights on either side of the room, and various paintings and artworks adorned the walls. In one corner of the room was a large cello on a stand, with several stacks of dusty songbooks near it. Serien was in the opposite corner, on a soft, black leather couch. He stood up on the hardwood floor, stretching, yawning, and rubbing his eyes. He did not become truly fascinated by the room until he looked up at the ceiling... There was no ceiling; the only covering of the roof was a layer of glass. Looking up, the stars shined in the sky, numerous, nearly infinite, never losing an ounce of blaze throughout the night. One of the moons, still nearly full, was hanging somberly in the air as well. He stared up, awestruck by the heavens above him... The stars and the moon had always fascinated him, as long as he could remember...but what could he remember? He struggled to think of what happened before he was running through the forest. But, to no avail; no memories came into his mind, except the one of last night's events, and they haunted him. But he pushed it aside for the sole thought that entered his mind; how much he loved the stars and the moon...he knew, he could feel that it extended many years back in his life, since his childhood, which he couldn't remember. He was still gazing into the sky when someone stepped into the room. "Oh, hello, you've woken up!" the voice was a little coarse, but outlined with dignity and sophistication. The man cleared his throat and spoke again, "How do you feel?" and his voice came out as clear as the night sky above him. He was an average-sized man, about Serien's height and with a similar build. From appearance he seemed to be 40 or 50 years old, although he moved and spoke as if he were much younger, yet with a flair of grace around him. "I'm...fine, thank you," spoke Serien, a low grumble in his voice from hours and hours of sleep. "You know, you've been asleep for six whole days...I was beginning to think you'd died." "Six...days...?" "Yes! And I’m guessing you must be very hungry as well, follow me!" he said, cheerily, with a wide, warm smile on his face. "Wait...where is...that other man..." "Other man?" "He had long, golden hair...and he was carrying a scythe.." "Oh, do you know him? Yes, well, he was in very poor condition, much like yourself, but he's been up and about for the last few days, doing better, thankfully! He was asking about you, he seemed very worried." "Could you...take me to him?" "Why yes, that's why I was taking you to the dining room, besides the fact that you must be famished beyond belief; he's been waiting for you!" "Thank you, sir...." He followed the other man through brightly-lit, wide sheetrock hallways with hardwood floors, all with glass ceilings; Serien occasionally crashed into the walls, because he was so fixated on the stars. They passed several rooms until they reached a mahogany double-door at the end of the hall; the man opened one of the doors and let Serien into an immense dining room. The floor was shining marble; the mahogany tables were immensely long, and the decor of the room was sharp yet fit snugly without contrasting too heavily. But Serien nearly fell over in awe when he saw the ceiling; a humongous dome...made entirely of glass...the sight of the endless ocean of stars above him made him forget about seeing the man who'd been chasing him... And both moons...nearly full, but fated to fade away soon, maintained their halos of light around them...Serien locked his eyes on the spectacle above him, uninterrupted until, "Is this the man you were looking for...?" Serien, disturbed from his gaze, looked toward the end of the dining table to see the man who'd been chasing him through the forest. Serien paced over to him and sat down across the table from him. Their host looked on, wonderingly. "Who are you?" asked Serien. "My name..is..." he started; then, buried his forehead into his hand, struggling to think... "Ekazu...my name's Ekazu," his voice was tired as well, yet otherwise it was sharp and exacting, unlike when they'd been at the ravine, when he was gentle and reassuring. Serien became puzzled at this; was he having trouble with his memory too? "And why were you chasing me through the forest?" "I...needed to save you...." "Save me from what?" "I don't know...I can't remember what happened before the forest...I was just trying to save you...that's all I remember!!" Serien became lost in thought, occasionally glancing up at the stars. "I've lost my memory too...all I can remember is running through that forest...as if I would die if I ever stopped..." Ekazu then remembered the turbulent events of that night... "What happened to you? You moved the sky...set the forest on fire..." "I don't know...it just...happened...I can't explain it..." "Perhaps I can aid you with your problem," interrupted the dignified voice of their host, standing near the head of the table. "How...?" asked Serien, confused. The host cleared his throat momentarily, then said "Before we go on, my name is Adura." Serien nodded. "Your memory, first of all, may return shortly...Or it may not. But the only way one's memory can be selectively muted as your memories are, is by one who is very experienced at doing so." "You're saying it was a person who did it?" "It's the only way possible, yes." "And...do you have any ideas who might've done it?" "I know but of 2 people capable of tinkering with others' minds..." "And who are they?" "The first is a man dead for years, his name long forgotten by time...the second is a woman living in Jurel...in the Sonnet quarter." "So it was her?" asked Serien. "No-one else comes to mind...you may want to pay her a visit." "Jurel...the Sonnet quarter...where's that?" "I suppose you'd need transportation there...the airport's not too far from here." "I don't have any money to pay for it," responded Serien. "No need to worry; I’ll provide you with everything you need." Serien felt grateful, of course...but he also wondered why Adura was so eager to help them. He decided not to push his luck and removed the thought from his mind. "So...do you live with anyone else?" asked Serien, implying a wife or a girlfriend. "I have but one assistant...he cooks and cleans the house for a small fee. He would charge more, but he doesn't; he's a very noble person," Adura raised his voice slightly and called, "Faore! Come here, please!" as he sat down at the head of the table. Faore emerged from a small door in the rear of the dining hall, quickly coming to Adura's side and asking, "Need anything?" His voice had a lazy tone to it, in addition to a sharp, salty accent. "Dinner for us three, Faore, thank you." "You got any preferences or do you want me to slap some random junk on the grill again?" "Ahem! Faore, whatever you slap together usually tastes excellent." Serien then said, "I don't really care...I haven't eaten in six days, and I'm starting to feel the effect of it..." At this his stomach growled furiously. Ekazu remained silent, contemplating everything he'd just heard. Twenty minutes later... Faore came out of the kitchen pushing a metal cart with three immense plates of food on it; each one adding to the delicious tangle of smells emanating from it. He pushed the cart up to the table and unloaded the plates to the three men at the table. All three meals were completely different. "Faore's rule is that each of people who eat his food have something completely unique to the table." "Like you always say, Adura. Nah, it just gets a little boring cooking the same thing over and over." Their meals were exquisite and rather unexpected. Set before Serien was a large stuffed fish; placed for Ekazu was a platter of fried Mog parts; and delivered to Adura was a large, nondescript slab of red meat. Adura ate slowly and precisely; Ekazu ate quickly and clumsily. Serien was shoveling the food into his mouth, making enough noise for the three of them combined. . . . After the meal, when they were properly stuffed, Adura led them back to the living room, the room Serien had been sleeping in. He let Ekazu and Serien seat themselves on the leather couch, then asked, "So, will you be on your way tomorrow?" "Yea, most likely. I don't wanna impose on you." "You're not imposing, not hardly. I've had a hundred guests stay an entire week, and this was more than once!" chuckled Adura. "Thanks for your help, sir, but I'll be going to find that woman tomorrow." "As you wish. In the morning I’ll provide you with some equipment and money, not including the fare for your transportation. Try to use it wisely." said Adura, with a half-faced, lopsided smile. Then, he walked over to his cello, pulling up a chair near it and removed it from the stand. He positioned it in front of him, retrieved his bow, and said, "I'd like to play a piece for you, gentlemen. I hope you'll enjoy it." The piece began with a slow, soothing melody, which relaxed Serien and made him sink slightly on the sofa, gazing up at the stars as the song took him. After a third near-repetition of the verse, with small variations here and there, he gave one sharp stroke of the cello with his bow...then silence. The sound stopped for a haunting moment, until he picked up into a quickly accelerating, harrowing, adrenalized rhythm that continued to add tension to itself until building into a sharp climax, then falling back into one repetition of the first verse, then ending. Ekazu, dazed and sleepy, mumbled to himself, while Serien applauded wholeheartedly, amazed with Adura's stunning display of musical skill. "Who taught you to play the cello?" asked Serien. "An old friend..." said Adura, cracking a smile. Serien nodded and stood up, yawning. He scratched his head, again looking up at the stars. He turned around, examining everything he'd missed in the room earlier. The only thing he'd really missed was above the fireplace, mounted in a display case: a long, wide sword. It was hollow at some points in the blade; it seemed like a simple wire-frame. The hollow segments seemed very intricate, as if patterned that way; they looked to him like a rising fire. The strangest aspect of the sword, however, was the incredible reflection it gave off of the light, as if it were a mirror. "What sort of weapon is that?" asked Serien to Adura, ponderingly. "Why, it's a runic blade...rather old, actually, but I've restored it and refinished it. The pattern is an old ceremonial symbol for an inferno rising from dead ash..." Adura hesitated a moment, then said... "I have no use for it...would you like to have it?" Shocked, Serien said, "but sir, it must be worth a fortune, why give it to me?" "You'd make better use of it than I ever could. Look around you; it should be obvious that money is the last thing I need." He's got a point... "Are you sure you're okay giving it to me?" asked Serien. "Absolutely!" said Adura, cheerily. He paced over to the display case, removing a key ring from a pocket. He located the right key, slid it into the keyhole and turned...the door quickly came open. Adura grasped the handle of the blade, his arm shaking, struggling to keep the blade straight, then offered it to Serien. Serien reluctantly took it and gazed fixatedly at it. "It's amazing...thank you...and somehow..I remember how to use it..." "But of course! You must've been trained in swordfighting..." said Adura, cheerily as always. With this, Adura left Serien, and Serien relaxed on the leather sofa, the blade on the ground next to him...as he stared up at the ceiling, counting the stars and contemplated the last week's events... "One...two..." He then fell deeply asleep. . . . As instantaneously as he had closed his eyes and drifted off, they snapped open and he was fully rested, wide awake and feeling like he was strong enough to knock down the whole house with his bare hands. But he refrained from trying for the sake of his knuckles, and proceeded out to the dining hall, where he correctly guessed Adura and Ekazu were, as Faore set a massive bowl of hardboiled eggs in front of them. "What sort of eggs are these?" asked Ekazu. "Hmm...taste like...uh...chicken," responded Serien between bites. "It's a southern breed of chocobo, very good around this time of year," said Adura, looking up from his plate. "Wha!? Isn't chocobo poaching illegal?" asked Serien, surprised...then later even more surprised that little pieces of his memory had indeed returned as Adura had said. "Not in certain islands in the south, but otherwise, you're right, it's quite illegal," responded Adura. The remainder of breakfast was spent in random conversation between bites of chocobo egg, discussing exactly where the woman lived, and how they would get there. Their plans were finalized as they finished the last of the eggs, and then, they exited the kitchen, leaving Faore with the dishes. At the massive double front door, made entirely of mahogany with polished gold knobs, Adura set before them a pack with some some spare clothes and sleeping bags. He handed Serien a small leather pouch...Serien looked inside to see a large wad of money. "This is so much money! Are you sure you want to..." started Serien. Adura smiled and cut him off with, "Don't worry about it. Now! Be on your way, you've got quite a bit of traveling to do." Ekazu picked up the pack and Serien held on to the money and a leather pouch holding his runic sword. As Ekazu stepped out of the door, Serien stayed back and asked Adura... "Sir, I'd wanted to ask you...does the sword have a name?" "Why, yes, of course...by the people who fashioned it was known as Relumine...to us that would be roughly translated into 'the light born again'..." answered Adura. Serien then asked his last question... "Sir, what I’d really wanted to ask you was...why be so kind to my friend and I? We haven't given you anything in return." Adura looked Serien in the eyes, then said, looking away, "At one time, there wasn't a day gone by that a guest hadn't come to visit...but after some time, they stopped coming...it was my pleasure for Faore and myself to serve you to the best of our abilities," he finished, smiling widely. "Oh...I see..." Serien said, curious but deciding not to bother Adura any further. "Well then, sir, we'll be on our way now. Our thanks for all your help," said Serien, offering his hand, which Adura accepted and shook warmheartedly. With this, Serien turned and stepped out the door, into a courtyard where a polished black car was waiting for them. The floor of the courtyard was red brick, slowly being warmed by the hot morning sun. Serien drew in a breath as he gazed away from the courtyard, down onto a massive urban landscape below him...finally realizing that Adura's home was on a mountain. Serien climbed into the back of the car, while Ekazu sat in the front passenger seat. Faore was at the wheel. They begun their descent down the long, winding hill towards the city. It took a good 25 minutes to reach the foothills of the mountains, after which they came to the ravine. It must've been farther down from the spot where Serien had fallen, because there was no forest on the other side and there was a massive suspension bridge closing the gap. They crossed over the bridge, which was relatively empty, then proceeded across a freeway, and finally arrived at the airport. Faore handed both Ekazu and Serien their tickets, bade them farewell, and drove off. The two men proceeded into the airport, past rows of massive airships, each one polished and tuned, ready to fly at a moment's notice. "Serien, we're at gate 93F, that's on the other end of the building!" Suddenly, an emotionless, metallic voice echoed through the building through the P.A. system so everyone could hear: "FLIGHT 264, non-stop service to Jurel, is departing in 10 minutes from Gate 93F. All passengers are expected to be seated within the next 5 minutes." "Damn! Serien! That's us, RUN!" shouted Ekazu, realizing how long the building was. They began to sprint down the wide corridors of the airport, the shops and gates a blur as they whipped by. As they shot up an escalator and out onto another corridor, Serien saw a young girl directly in front of him with three large and apparently heavy suitcases. Before he could stop himself he plowed straight into her, knocking them both over. She landed on her back, and Serien would've landed facedown on her, but he reflexively balled his hands into fists and landed on them, holding himself up. He looked down at her for a moment, seeing how beautiful she was...her dark eyes, her black hair...and a second later, common sense came flooding back to him, and he stood up and offered her his hand. "You okay?...Sorry about that, miss...here, I'll get your suitcases for you..." he said warmly as she silently took his hand. She seemed frightened by him and was obviously afraid to speak. "So, which gate are you going to?" he asked. She was silent for a few moments, then forced out, "Uhh....9...3....F.." "Great! We're headed there too! C'mon, let's go, we don't have that much time!" said Serien kindly, as Ekazu mumbled, "Grrr...we don't have time for this...", luckily out of earshot of either Serien or the girl. With this, Serien took all 3 of her bags and quickly escorted her the rest of the way there, with Ekazu in tow... . . . They made the airship with half a minute to go. All of their luggage checked out except for the sword Serien was carrying; it was confiscated until he disembarked from the airship at Jurel. As the lady behind the counter had put it; "We just don't want it on the ship. What you do with it afterwards is hardly our business." So they boarded the plane, and the girl sat at one of the windows, while Serien sat next to her; the seats were in pairs of two, with plenty of space between them and the next pair. She gazed at the ground silently, lost in thought. "So, what are you headed to Jurel for?" She completely ignored the question and remained in her silence; he decided not to trouble her too much, and then he realized he was being a little too over-friendly. Idiot! What the hell are you DOING!? The strange rising sensation that Serien was unaccustomed to rushed through him as the airship left the ground, pushed into the air by its massive propellers. "Serien..." she spoke, suddenly. What? I never told her my name... "Serien...they all said you were dead..." she said, her soft brown eyes beginning to tear. "I...I don't know you..." Serien said, confused. Her tears began to fall like rain... "What do you mean? You don't remember me?" "My..my memory's gone..it's been taken from me..that's why I'm going to Jurel..they say there's a person there..." "Serien! Serien....Serien..." she seemed to be comforted by saying his name. "Serien...I missed you so much..." Was I...in love with this girl? "I'm sorry..." was all he could say...and all he could do was put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her tears began to dry a little, but the stains still remained on her face. After a few moments, the tears had disappeared from her eyes and she smiled warmly at him. "My name's Aurora," she said, "and you're a good friend of mine." I'm pretty sure I can believe her...after all, she DOES know my name... "Serien..." she sighed momentarily.."I'm so glad you're alive...I remember how you always used to gaze at the stars and the moons for hours on end..." [Well, now I KNOW I can believe her... "You were always so silly, Serien...until your parents died...you got so sad and quiet..." But I don't remember anything else... "And then you were taken away somewhere far away...after several years you came back and visited your hometown...but 3 days later, you left...and the next thing I heard was, you were dead..."...the tears began to well up in her eyes again. Realizing he needed to make her feel better, he put his arm behind her neck and hung it over her shoulder. She felt so much happier in his partial embrace that the tears quickly dissipated from her eyes. "Don't cry...I'm alive, right?" Man...I must've meant so much to her... Airships were exceptionally fast when their propellers were combined with jet thrust; they reached Jurel in no less than an hour. As they disembarked the airship, Serien proceeded to the baggage claim with Aurora by his side, looking for the sword Adura had given him. But the lady behind the belongings stand insisted there was no sword that came in with Flight 93F, unless someone had taken it without her seeing... Serien looked around, in hopes of seeing someone who may have taken his precious blade. He didn't spot anyone until Aurora pointed out a figure off on the other side of the large baggage room walking off with a long leather pouch. "That's my sword!!" shouted Serien, sprinting after the figure. The thief turned at hearing this, saw Serien running in his direction, then turned back around and bolted like a rabbit, being careful not to drop his bounty. "Come back here, you ass! That's my goddamn SWORD!!" he yelled at the thief before quickening his pace... The thief managed to continually stay one step ahead of him throughout the airport; only when Serien chased him up a crowded escalator did he manage to catch up and subdue his target at the top, near a small cafe. He grabbed the man's neck, squeezing tightly then throwing him to the ground, then kicking him hard in the side, taking back his sword. The man, now coughing and grasping his side, had blood red hair, combed back neatly and almost perfectly straight. Serien picked up the leather case containing the runic blade inside, then picked up the thief by the collar. "Why'd you steal my sword!?" he growled. "I'm sorry, sir, it wasn't me..." the young man mumbled, nervous and afraid. "What do you mean it wasn't you!?" "Sir, it was my, my, my..." "Your WHAT!?" shouted Serien, drawing the attention of all around him. "My..my..my...HER!" he said, terrified but pointing to a figure off in the distance. Serien dropped the young man and told him sternly, "Take me to her," as he trailed very close behind. The boy led Serien to the end of the building, to a young girl who appeared to be the same age as him (however old that was...). She had the same blood-red hair as the boy who'd stolen the sword, and their facial features seemed eerily similar. Except for the fact that her face was expressionless, and her dull red eyes were staring off into space... "Are you responsible for this kid stealing my sword?" asked Serien, calmed down slightly, but still extremely irked. The girl remained staring nonchalantly into oblivion, ignoring Serien completely. From behind Serien, the boy said, "I'm sorry, sir, but my sister here told me to take this sword...she doesn't talk too often...here's your sword back, and I apologize for both of..." "You're Serien, aren't you?" she interrupted, with no trace of emotion in her voice, avoiding his squinting glare. "Y-yes...that's my name. Why'd you steal my sword?" "Because...I knew it's rightful owner would come after it..." she said, almost cryptically. "How did you..." he started. She cut him off quickly but maintained her tone of voice (or lack thereof), "You were searching for me. You've found me...." she paused momentarily... "...what do you want?" Serien glanced behind him at her brother, who was still sweating nervously...then he turned back to her, her emotionless face, her dull eyes... "Maybe we should talk somewhere else," he said, sincerely. As they headed for the exit of the airport, Ekazu and Aurora caught up with Serien, both of them panting loudly. Serien, his face sternly masked with determination, instructed them," "Come on. We're leaving." . . . The drive from the bustling, sprawling urban landscape of the airport area through the beaten-down, forgotten maze of closely interwoven residencies on the outer circle of the city was made in silence. After what seemed to be an entire city-tour's worth of driving, they pulled into the garage of a small, aging wooden home. The entered into the house, and despite the worn architecture of the exterior, the interior was comfortable and roomy and not worn-down at all; in fact, it appeared to be brand new. Aurora and Ekazu sat and talked in the living room, at Serien's request that he be left alone to speak with the girl. He and the girl sat at a small dining table on the other end of the house. "First of all, who are you?" asked Serien. She replied, "I have no real name...but most call me Aishou..." "Aishou, why did you," started Serien, only to be interrupted by, "I am a neuretic...." "Which is...?" "I can look through people's minds...and take their memories..." "So why did you steal mine!?" "If you could understand..." "Understand WHAT!? What is there to understand!?" A tear rolled down Aishou's cheek, and she began to tremble and shake...resultedly, Serien was pulled out of his chair by an invisible force and thrown headfirst into the wall, then fell to the floor. He struggled to stand up, but the dulling pain in his head did not let him. Aishou's hands began to shake, and Serien was flung across the room again, into another wall. Not given any respite, he was then raised to the ceiling then flung mercilessly onto the floor. "You're no better than Boraza, you bastard!" she cried, the tears falling down her cheeks...her voice was despondant and terribly sad. As a small trickle of blood fell from Serien's forehead, the pain in his head increased; it felt like he'd been smashed by a freight train. Through his teeth, and under the pain, he groaned, "Who...is...Boraza...." Aishou's hands trembled once again, but this time, Serien hovered in the air, and she stood up and walked over to his figure, hovering upside down, his face level to hers. "Boraza is...Boraza was the cruelest, most horrible man that ever lived, I swear it..." she began, sadly... ...but then she began shouting angrily.... "...he took everything from me! My mother, my sisters, my home! He stole everything I own and everything I hold dear, and never showed a damn shred of remorse! He killed my DOG! My god damn DOG!! And through it all, he NEVER gave a FUCK what he was doing!!" She broke down to her knees, the tears drenching her face; her concentration dissapated and Serien tumbled to the ground, landing painfully on his wrists. Serien groaned, "...so how...am I worse than this guy..." "Because you don't give a fuck about my pain either." "I would...give a fuck about it...but you stole...my memory.." "I stole your memory because you've had a happy life, you ass..." "...and you have some strange aura around you..." They were both then silent...until Serien sat up and spoke, softly... "I'm sorry about...Boraza..." ...she shivered upon hearing the name... "...but I need my memory back...and I need to know certain things.." Looking up at him, she said, "You mean about moving the sky?" "You knew?" he asked, surprised. "Your memory tells me things that even you didn't know..." "So, you know about why I can do that?" "I know much more than you'll ever know about yourself... ... ...but if I were to tell it all to you, I'd have to keep your memory; if I give back your memory, I'll forget all of it..." "So...you need to keep it?" She nodded. Serien sighed deeply, then said, "I'll be right back." . . . "Where did you go?" asked Aishou, the tears drying from her eyes. "To tell the others I might be a while." "You know..." she started, softly... "...you had such a happy childhood...until your parents died..." "When did they die?" he asked, wonderingly. "You were only 7 years old...you were an energetic, happy child...until the day they died..." "How did they die?" "It looks like they were killed..." "By who?" he asked, the concern in his voice deepening but not initially apparent. "I'm trying to see...his face.." she said, burying her forehead in her palm. Suddenly, she looked up at Serien, her a flash of terror in her eyes. She began to breathe roughly and quickly, and tears began to cascade down her cheeks, and her entire body began to tremble. Then, still shaking uncontrollably, she squeezed her eyes shut and screamed wordlessly at the top of her lungs; at this, both she and Serien floated into the air and flew into each opposite wall of the room, then slumping to the ground. Serien recovered first, then strugglingly crawled over to her...she was still conscious, thankfully. She opened her eyes, and the terror was still there. "What...what was it?" he asked her softly. "It was..." she began, and then, one last tear descended the way from her fear-stricken eyes, down her soft, stained cheeks... "...Boraza..." . . . Serien sat back, holding his head in his hand, shocked... ...Aishou was looking to the ceiling as if an angel would come to save both of them from this fate... After several long minutes of silence, Serien looked into Aishou's eyes, tired and bloodshot from the tears that had been flowing constantly out of them. "I need...I need to rest, I can't take any more of this..." Serien nodded and said gently, "Okay..." She tried to push herself onto her feet, but only groaned in pain and slumped back down to the ground... "Are you okay?" he asked, softly. "My...I sprained my ankle, I think..." "Here, let me help you up..." said Serien, offering her his hand. She took it, and tried to stand, but she couldn't; she collasped back to the ground, landing on her ankle yet again and crying out in pain. Serien then kneeled down beside her, slid one hand under her knees and the other under her back, picked her up. He slowly paced around the house, trying to find a bed. Soon, he arrived at a small, well-lit room. "That's...my room.." she managed, tiredly. He walked in slowly, being careful with her...he then walked over beside the bed and slowly placed her down on it. "I, I...t-t-tha...." she was trying to find a word that she simply couldn't express... "Hm?" he asked, as he was about to turn and leave. She was silent and only looked numbly into his storm-hued eyes...then, he turned again to leave... ...but she reached out and grasped his wrist as if pleading him to stay. "Thank you..." she said, as if she hadn't said those words in years, as if she was afraid of saying them... "You're...you're welcome," he told her warmly, cracking a small smile. He then turned to leave, and at the door he asked, "Should I turn off the lights?" She nodded slowly, fatigue saturating her every motion. He flicks off the lightswitch by the door and the radiance of the room immediately dies away. He closes the door behind him softly, then walks back to where Aurora and Ekazu are. Meanwhile, in the bedroom... Aishou gazed tiredly up at the ceiling, her eyelids failing quickly; it was a struggle enough to keep them halfway open. He's so....so different than everyone else... Her eyelids sunk lower...and lower.... I...how is... Her eyes closed for a few seconds before she roughly forced them open. Can he...could he... Her eyes slammed shut as if lined with titanium and she tumbled softly into sleep. Later, she woke up...and she walked through an empty house, then left quietly through the door, headed far away from the city, to the barren outskirts. And then she was running, running across a soft, round grassy hill at night. The night sky above her was unobstructed; her own personal theater of millions of stars against the dark ocean of night. Each one shined and glowed with its own radiance, no two seemed alike...and then she saw him in the stars, standing there, looking down at her... Can he...could he understand me? Could he understand my pain? Suddenly, from high above, someone hissed, [b]"No!"[/b] and it echoed away inside her mind.... And the stars began to fall towards the earth, all seemingly headed for her...as they neared she could swear there were vague, agonized faced in each star, but before she could see more, they burst into flames, and each one simultaneously rocketed down to the ground where she stood... And then she sprang up in bed, sweating profusely. . . . Judging by the air, it must've been night; a light wind coming in from the window chilled her to the bone. She got off the bed with her good foot, then limped slowly over to the window...her bad foot was numbed by the cold, so she found it slightly easier to walk on. Her head was throbbing with a dull, hammer-like pain; it seemed to slow her down significantly. She pushed her pain aside, however, in favor of the night sky; it had enchanted her since her birth, much like Serien. Serien... I...I think I... Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by angry shouts coming from outside, then the sound of a harsh banging on the front door. She turned and paced out of her room as quickly as she could, heading for the door, steeling her nerves. By the time she got there, she saw Serien and Ekazu fighting several men in identical military uniforms, each one determinedly wielding a rifle with a long, sharp bayonet extending from the front. She quickly counted out seven of them, not including the dead one on the ground, blood spilling out of his stomach. Serien and Ekazu were using speed and the night to their advantage, weaving in and out of the confused group of soldiers, striking them down one by one, until they were reduced to a pile of bleeding corpses. Serien and Ekazu, both breathing roughly, began to examine the soldiers on the ground. "Why do you think they came after us?" asked Serien, wonderingly. "I don't know...we didn't do anything to them..." grumbled Ekazu, beginning to fall back asleep. As they continued looking over the heap of dead soldiers, they initially failed to notice the sound of a large truck headed their way. The truck pulled up in front of Aishou's home, its engine roaring ferociously. It was apparently an open-roofed cargo truck, carrying its load: at least forty of the same soldiers. They leaped out of the truck, charging at Serien and Ekazu at full speed. The two could do nothing; there was no way they could fight off that many soldiers. The squad of soldiers surrounded both men, weapons at ready. Serien and Ekazu both dropped their weapons to the ground, implying surrender. At the front door, completely unnoticed by the squad, was Aishou, her mind racing and her heart pounding, trying to think of what to do. It only took her a momeny before she closed her eyes, took in a long breath, and then threw all of her concentration to the task at hand. Her mind became filled with jumbled thoughts; emotions, worries, pasts, presents, memories...the amount of knowledge she was taking from the soldiers was immense, but maintained herself long enough to hurl the humongous mass of thoughts back to them. Each of the soldier's heads suddenly recoiled in shock, and then they remained still for several long moments, much to the bewilderment of Serien and Ekazu, neither of which had seen Aishou at the door. Suddenly, each soldier trained their guns in random directions, prompting Ekazu to grumble quietly, "What the hell are those idiots doing!?" Then, Serien realized they weren't randomly aiming their guns; each soldier had one of his squadmates in his sights. "Ekazu....get down.." whispered Serien, worried. Not wanting to argue, Ekazu crouched to the ground next to Serien. No sooner had they done this than each of the soldiers began firing, and they all began dropping like flies, blood flying all over the front yard of Aishou's house, the stagnant smell of death filling the air. The endless thundering of gunfire echoed away for seemingly forever inside their ears, the only thing masking the sound of the soldiers screaming out their final breaths. And after what seemed to be an eternity but had actually taken less than a minute, Serien and Ekazu stood up amidst the yard-turned-mortuary and glanced around, bewildered. Ekazu was the first to spot Aishou sprawled out on the steps to the front door, seemingly unconscious. "Serien..." said Ekazu, gesturing at Aishou with his head. Serien saw her, and his immediate reacton was to shout, "Aishou!" and run to her, to see if she was alright; she was conscious, but she was extremely fatigued. "Serien...I'm fine....I'm just...tired..." she managed, groaning at her lack of strength, her inability to move... Serien gathered her up in his arms and took her back to her bed, being careful and walking slowly so as not to jostle her. He eventually came to her room, pacing over to the bed and gently depositing her upon it. "Serien..." she whispered as he left her room and joined Ekazu outside. And that was the first time they noticed the eerie silence and freezing wind of night. However, such thoughts were quickly put to rest as they approached the truck, struggling not to step on any dead bodies. As they drew nearer, they spied the ominously looming shadow of a man standing tall on the roof of the truck, resting his hand against a long, almost circular object. He wore an army uniform somewhat similar to the previous squad of soldiers, whose bodies lay dormant on the ground. "Who are you and whaddya want!?" shouted Ekazu to the figure. The figure atop the truck slowly brought his long weapon up onto his shoulder, steadying it with his hands, his eyes deadlocked on his prey. The weapon recoiled a little as it rocketed out its incendiary package, hurling terrifyingly fast towards Serien and Ekazu, who were running as fast as they could towards the house. "He's got a goddam bazooka! How are we supposed to fight him like that!?" panted Ekazu. Serien, also running out of breath, couldn't think of anything at all. Another bazooka round gracefully impacted and exploded furiously on the spot where they had been two seconds earlier. Suddenly, without a second thought, Serien had begun bolting as fast as he could towards the truck. Ekazu was too concerned with saving his ass to shout, 'what the hell are you doing!?' and quickly followed. As they were halfway through the yard, yet another shot detonated right behind them, the shockwave throwing Ekazu to the ground and hurling Serien into the side of the truck. Ekazu recovered rational thought first, throwing himself beside the truck, trying to help Serien up. Serien, dazed and confused, looked around and saw that they were right next to the truck... ...and so, he and Ekazu climbed up the side, right in the face of their attacker. "Try firing that thing at this range, motherf*cker," growled Ekazu. They still couldn't see their attacker's face; it was covered by a face mask and a large pair of goggles. The bazooka-man, out of ideas and desperate, heaved his weapon at Ekazu's stomach. Ekazu successfully blocked the attack with his forearms, but the impact caused him to lose his balance and he tumbled off the side of the truck. Serien wanted to go help him, but he knew that if he turned away for a single moment, he was done for. So he did the only rational thing that his instict allowed; he raised his sword and brought it down swiftly upon his opponent. The bazooka-man jumped back, avoiding having his head vertically dissected but at the same time allowing the blade to tear a long, thick gash in his stomach. Blood began soaking through his army uniform, his breaths becoming heavy and drawn out. Serien faced the bazooka-man, writhing on the ground. His face, and his attacker's mask, both glowed in the dual moonlight. Unbeknownst to Serien, his attackers' eyes had gone wide inside his goggles. Once again, Serien raised up the blade and brought it down, but just before the blade smashed the man's skull, he yelled, "Serien!!", and the blade stopped, dire millimeters away from his face. Serien grimaced and bent down, pulling off his attacker's mask, revealing an obviously unfamiliar face, a man he had never seen before. "Serien, it's...it's me...it's Arkadi..." . . . "I don't know you..." said Serien, glaring down at the bazooka-man, calling himself Arkadi. "Serien...how can you not know me...?" Arkadi asked, still grasping at the wound on his stomach, his hands becoming saturated with blood. Serien turned away from his fallen enemy, as if speaking to the moon... "My memory is gone..." Arkadi couldn't respond; he only groaned as more of his blood began to rush out, faster than before. Serien tossed his sword to the lawn and picked Arkadi up, then warned him, "Brace yourself, this might be a little rough..." Arkadi, being in no condition to say otherwise, holding his wound tightly as if he were about to lose a part of himself. Without a second thought, Serien leaped off the roof of the truck, landing as softly as he possibly could, while still jostling Arkadi as well as his own feet. Arkadi groaned in agony, still grasping his injury. By this time, Ekazu had risen to his feet, albeit dirtied and bloodied up. He strugglingly followed Serien back into the house, ignoring the steady stream of blood falling from his forearms. Once inside, Serien deposited Arkadi on the dining table, then lifted up his thick, padded shirt to examine the gash more closely. Arkadi's every breath, every movement caused more and more blood to spill out of the wound. Serien quickly scrambled through all of the cabinets in the kitchen, frantically searching for a first aid kid... Why am I trying to help this guy... ...he tried to kill me! Regardless of this thought, Serien eventually found a small bit of disinfectant and medicinal gauze in the back of a cabinet above the sink; he quickly took it over to his 'patient' and sprayed the disinfectant along the wound. Arkadi let loose a painful yell to the ceiling... By now Ekazu was back inside, tending to his own wounds, glaring scornfully at Arkadi. "You should've killed him off, Serien..." grumbled Ekazu, rubbing his aching shoulders. "He knows me..." responded Serien, his eyes not drifting from the task at hand, nimbly bandaging the long, ruler-straight gash in Arkadi's stomach. "Serien...smart-ass...you haven't changed a bit..." muttered Arkadi through clenched teeth. Then, he slumped his head onto the table and lost consciousness. . . . "Where was Aurora during all of this?" asked Ekazu, sitting across the dining table from Serien, having deposited the sleeping form of Arkadi on the sofa. Trying to take his mind off his injuries, Ekazu had out a small feast before him, practically half the contents of Aishou's fridge. "She must be a heavy sleeper..." said Serien, his mind lost in thought. He suddenly remembered he'd left his sword outside; he suddenly dashed out the door and returned with it a few seconds later. "Ya know, I wonder why no cops've come to check this out..." pondered Ekazu. "This is a poor area, the police don't pay attention to them...either that or the police and the army in this area are the same thing..." "Aah, whatever, you be the smart one. I can't think about much right now...damn that guy, throwing his damn bazooka at me..." "Ya know, if he hadn't been trying to kill us, I would've laughed my ass off right there..." smirked Serien, his mind drifting. "Ah, shut up...." grumbled Ekazu, a grumble which slowly turned into a chuckle. "Anyway, I'm gonna go see if Aurora's alright..." said Serien, his eyes wandering around the kitchen. "You like her, don't you?" asked Ekazu knowingly as Serien was leaving the room. At this, Serien turned, cracked a small smile, and told him, "How can I? I don't even know her..." As Serien had suspected, Aurora was still sound alseep; the gunshots and the cries of the dying apparently could do nothing to wake her. He proceeded back to the kitchen, but on the way he glanced into the room next to Aurora's and saw Aishou's brother, cowering in the comfort of his blanket. "Hey, kid, you okay?" asked Serien. "Y-y-yes, sir..." he responded, shivering. "You can call me Serien...you cold?" he asked. "Y-y-yes, sir...Serien." "So...what's your name?" "My name...my name is a...ah....A-CHOO!" Serien chuckled a bit before the boy told him, "My name is Ero, sir..I mean, Serien..." "Hehe...well, don't worry about a thing, Ero, your sister saved all of us. You should thank her when she wakes up..." Serien got up and started out into the hall. He gave a quick glance towards Aishou's room and then whispered to himself... "If she wakes up..." . . . The next morning, Serien and Ekazu proceeded to interrogate Arkadi. He didn't hesitate to talk and ended up becoming a very useful source of information... "Our detachment was sent by the Jurel Police Department...our orders were simple, kill everyone inside this house; they never really specified a reason. I was the commander of this particular squad, we were to report back this morning, right about now...they'll be coming back to find out what happened if we don't report, and if they don't find us they'll sic the whole damn force out on you." "Are you sure they didn't tell you why you were coming to kill us?" asked Serien, bewildered. "Well, the only thing they told us was that you were dangerous criminals....which I don't understand myself." "How are any of us criminals? We haven't done anything wrong!" protested Serien. "I'm sorry...but Jurel's police department is the most idiotic bunch of ass-biting morons..." "Arkadi!?"came a shout from the back of the room. It was Aurora, apparently just woken up. "A-a-Aurora..." said Arkadi quietly. "Err...you two...know each other?" asked Serien, essentially directing the question into the air, not specifically at either one of them. "It's...it's a long story.." mumbled Arkadi. "Arkadi...what are you doing here?" asked Aurora, still in a small bit of shock. Arkadi again told of his orders to kill everyone in the house. "So...and I slept through all of this?" she asked, embarrassed. Serien was trying to restrain himself from laughing. After some time, Serien discovered that Aurora was once Arkadi's fiancee, but then Arkadi lost interest and joined the army. Aurora then buried her sorrows in her closest friend at the time, Serien, and they began to slowly fall in love with one another...until one day when six men came to their hometown of Allude to take Serien away. They went into Serien's home to speak to him, and no less than five minutes later, he was bolting from the town like a rabbit, towards the thick forest to the west. Silence and reflection hung over the table, until Serien finally decided to try and change the subject. "What about you, Ekazu, you don't remember why you were there with those other soldiers?" "Nope...no recollection at all.." said Ekazu, scratching his head. . . . 2 hours later... Aishou slowly forced herself out of bed and into the dining room, tired and a mess. She barely noticed Arkadi, she was that tired. As her eyes began to open up, she asked, in monotone, "Who are you?" Arkadi again told who he was and why he was there... Later on, after everyone had freshened up and eaten breakfast, Ekazu asked Aishou... "Do you have my memory also?" Aishou never recalled taking Ekazu's memory; but nevertheless she searched through her mind, and still she found nothing. "No, at that time I'd only taken Serien's memory..." "And speaking of that, when will you give mine back?" asked Serien. "I don't know...you want me to fully understand it, don't you?" she told him. He nodded back acknowledgingly. "And I don't know how long it will take...your memory is convoluted, and it seems as if it's closing itself off...it's almost as if it doesn't want anyone exploring it...as if it were...alive..." Serien shot her a funny, confused look. She could only smile sympathetically and say, "I'm sorry...i'm doing everything I can..." He...I...I just...smiled... What am I...what is he doing to me?, she asked herself, feeling a mixture of confusion and intrigue inside herself. Aishou sipped at a half-full and steaming cup of black coffee, trying to sort out her emotions. "What about my memory?" asked Ekazu, a hint of a whine in his voice. "I don't know..." started Serien, "...didn't he say there was one other person who could do that was some guy...I can't remember who..." "He didn't say who it was, he only said he was dead..." answered Ekazu, out of ideas. "I only know of one other neuretic..." interrupted Aishou. "Who?" asked Serien and Ekazu simultaneously. Suddenly, Aishou again began to shake, warm tears spilling from her eyes. As her first tear hit the ground, Arkadi's body flew out of his seat and onto the kitchen counter in the next room. Serien quickly got up and grasped her shoulders, trying to bring her out of it. And, to everyone's surprise... ...she stopped. The tears stopped flowing to her eyes, and a wide smile crossed her face. Serien... Arkadi came crawling back into the dining room... "Boraza...it's Boraza." she said, burying her head in her hands, but much calmer than before. "And Boraza is still alive?" asked Ekazu. Aishou looked up and nodded slowly... "So Adura was wrong..." said Serien, eyeing the floor. "Dammit! So, what now?" demanded Ekazu angrily, to no-one in general. "There's nothing we can do..." started Serien... "...except go find Boraza..." finished Aishou. . . . "So, where do we start?" asked Serien. Arkadi, seemingly knowing the area the best, responded with: "Well, the best place to go at this point would most likely be to one of the black market areas, they're usually the best people to go to when you're looking for someone..." "You mean going to a crime boss?" asked Aurora. "More or less, yeah...it may get somewhat rough, but as long as we're careful we should be okay..." "So, Arkadi..." said Ekazu slyly, "...how do you know about all the black market going on around down here? If you're a cop, you should've reported them to your higher-ups, right?" "Ahem! Well, you know, it's the easiest way to buy stuff real cheap...no point in taking out the stores I buy from..." he said, nervously scratching his head. Aurora rolled her eyes, thinking what an ass this guy still was. . . . A little bit later, they were all ready to go, and they filed out the door into the sunlight, streaming through sparse cotton-candy clouds in the sky. However, the streaming rays of light emanating from the sky could do nothing to dissapate the sight of almost 50 dead men on the front yard. "What the hell're we gonna do about this?" grumbled Ekazu. "Uh...I have no idea..." said Serien, worriedly scratching his head. "Why is that no one's seen this yet?" asked Aurora, to no one in particular. "This is the most desolate, out of the way neighborhood in the entire city...it's rare for anyone but the residents to come by here more than once or twice a week..." answered Arkadi, thinking. Arkadi paced around the pile of corpses, looking at them wonderingly...suddenly, he paused in midstep, looking up at the truck parked at the sidewalk, then back down at the soldiers. "Well, we can't just leave them here...everybody, pile these bodies into the back of the truck!" "What the hell good is that gonna do? It's not like a big stack of bodies is particularly unnoticeable, ya know..." complained Ekazu. "Just do it, you'll see..." smirked Arkadi. 36 minutes, 2 canteens of coffee, and one hell of a lot of dead bodies later... "There! Done!" declared Arkadi, wiping the blood off his hands with a paper towel. The bodies were arranged neatly and precisely, as if they were being catalogued... "Okay, everyone back up!" said Arkadi, gesturing at the door. He walked over to the side of truck, looked under it, and found his bazooka; he then took it back to the front door, took stance on the steps, and fired directly at the truck's engine... ...had there actually been any neighbors, the resulting explosion would've been heard by every single one of them. An immense, thick cloud of flames engulfed the truck and all the bodies it was carrying... "It won't take more than an hour until there's nothing left of those poor bastards but ash..." said Arkadi, cracking a wry smile. "Okay, let's get going..." said Serien. One by one, they climbed into Aishou's van, a very large, bulky red vehicle containing less interior space than it appeared to have. Arkadi took the wheel, Serien sitting next to him. Aurora sat alone in the middle section, saving the spot next to her for Aishou, although her real intention was to get away from Ekazu, who was in the back, grumbling and complaining uncontrollably. Inside the house, Aishou was talking to Ero in the dining room "Ero...will you be alright by yourself?" she asked, slightly concerned. "'Course I will, sis, you've left me alone before!" he said, smiling proudly. Ero had only recently gotten used to his sister smiling; she seemed to be doing it alot ever since she met Serien... ...and smile she did, even laugh happily, mussing his hair and telling him that she'd be back soon. With that, she turned and walked to the van, waiting for her outside. She climbed in next to Aurora, shutting the door tightly. "Your brother's okay all alone?" asked Aurora. "Yeah, he's fine, I've left him alone in the house a couple times before." Arkadi pulled the van out of the driveway and carefully past the burning truck, out onto the street. He was headed for the freeway leading to the innards of the city...as he neared closer and closer to the more urban, city-scaped areas, the air became thicker and thicker, more dank and polluted with ever meter. After some time, they finally hit the main highway of Jurel, the Duralo Expressway. The Expressway way significantly long; it took quite a while to cross from one end to another, pretty much what Arkadi had to do to get to his destination. The drive was smooth and uneventful, until they began to hear the dull roar of several jet engines above them... . . . Arkadi swore roughly under his breath and glanced up out the window to see no less than 5 jet aircraft in dull coats of desert camoflage paint hovering perilous inches above the van. Arkadi's face became masked with concentration, and he sharply shouted to Serien, "Take the wheel! And keep driving as fast as you can!" Arkadi grabbed his bazooka from behind his seat and slammed open the sunroof, popping his upper body out of the top of the van and steadying his bazooka on his shoulder. He targeted the small jet in the center of the formation, his grip on his weapon easily strong enough to choke the life out of the average person. He inhaled, braced himself, and then jerked the launch trigger, watching a small rocket soar thunderously from the mouth of his weapon, leaving a long, smoking trail in it's wake. The rocket was headed directly for the center of the jet, but the pilot, apparently with lightning-fast reflexes, swerved abruptly to the left; however, this only served to let the rocket smash and explode furiously into the right wing of his craft. The jet, with it's right wing incinerated and the fuselage spouting massive clouds of fire, spun dizzily towards the ground and exploded brightly against the side of the highway, knocking the steady flow of traffic out of sync. Suddenly, a loud, deep voice came blaring out of a loudspeaker out of one of the jets. "You thought we'd still keep the leader in the center, didn't you, Arkadi?" it asked, menacingly. "Who the hell are you?" shouted Arkadi, still grasping his bazooka tightly. "Don't tell me you don't remember us...nobody forgets the Rafaya!" it boasted, the voice drenched in pride. "Fuck you! I know you're the Rafaya, what's your name, dammit!?" The only response was a low chuckle, then the sound of the speaker turning off suddenly. The second of the four jets closed in on the van. Without warning, an automatic cannon near the nose began blasting away at the roof of the van. Arkadi reflexively fell back into the van, shouting, "Everybody get down!" As soon as Arkadi hit the floor of the van between the two front seats, the cannonfire stopped. There were numerous palm-sized holes in the roof, but everyone appeared to be okay. "They're still closing in, go faster!" yelled Ekazu from the back. No sooner had he said this, than had Arkadi shouted back, "It's a van, dammit! How fast do you think this shitpile can go!?" Serien had no response, his foot already smashing down the pedal like a lead weight; he could go no faster, just like Arkadi had said. Arkadi didn't dare to poke his head out the sunroof for fear his head would emerge into the crosshairs of an auto-cannon. Instead, he instructed Serien to slow down a bit; with this, one of the Rafaya jets closed in over the van. Arkadi could just make out the nose of the jet from where he sat, and just as the pilot began to prepare a missile, Arkadi grabbed his bazooka, pointed it straight up, and fired. The blast tore off the front of the cockpit, reducing it to ash while the rest of the jet was thrown several meters back from the explosion. "Two down...three to go..." muttered Arkadi under his breath. The loudspeaker came on again, the same voice behind it. "Ha! So you think we're that stupid, do you?" Arkadi ignored them and glanced out the front of the van, spying a long tunnel approaching. "Serien...keep driving...get in that tunnel!" That voice again..."Now we stop playing games, kiddies. Now you die..." it trailed off, and was soon replaced with maniacal laughter, echoing endlessly as the van entered the tunnel. Arkadi expected them to veer off; however, they kept on coming. The auto-cannon fire began again, shattering the rear windshield and tearing up the van's trunk. Ekazu was sheltering himself under the seat, not sure if the thick leather would actually offer any protection. Suddenly, a missile came screaming down from one of the jets, impacting on the floor of the tunnel in front of the van. Serien nearly lost control of the van, but Arkadi grabbed the wheel and slammed it to the right. The shock of the explosion jostled the van a bit, but otherwise they came out okay. Now they faced a new obstacle; they had veered into the opposite lane...they were headed into the traffic. "Aah, shit!" shouted Arkadi. Then, he paused to catch his breath and then yelled, "Anybody dead back there?" He got no response aside from Aurora shouting, "They're still coming!" Knowing the jets would'nt hover over the sunroof anymore, Arkadi slowly crawled to the back of the van, dragging his bazooka along with him. As soon as he got to the backseat, where Ekazu was crouching on the floor, he steadied his bazooka beside the headrest of the seat, aiming out the gaping hole where the trunk door once was. With Serien swerving back and forth, weaving in and out of the traffic, Arkadi couldn't get a good shot at any of the three jets. So he did the only thing he could; he aimed at the ceiling of the tunnel and fired. The blast caught two of the jets, both of which caught on fire and drunkedly slammed into the walls of the tunnel, reduced to scrapmetal. The very last jet had slowed down and backed off right before Arkadi had fired; it was still coming at them, it's autocannon blazing furiously. Arkadi tried to fire at the ceiling again; but the only thing emerging from his weapon was a loud :clink:; the bazooka was empty. Arkadi swore at the top of his lungs, then threw his bazooka to the floor, out of ideas. The autocannon fire continued, neatly blowing off the back half of the roof. But, this third plane soon ran out of ammo; Arkadi could hear the click-click-click signaling there were no bullets left. Apparently, Serien had heard it to; he was climbing out the sunroof with his sword as Aurora frantically took the wheel. "What the hell are you doing, you crazy ass!?" yelled Ekazu, followed by Arkadi shouting, "Dammit, get the fuck down, you're not gonna do any good if you get killed!" Serien steeled himself and ignored their beckonings for him to come down. The third jet, apparently the one with the loudspeaker, came in closer and the pilot said, "Oh, you're so brave! You wanted to see my face before I killed you!" The jet began to accelerate as fast as it could, the nose coming closer and closer to Serien. Just before it could knock him off the top of the van, Serien jumped and grabbed the nose of the jet, pulling himself up. Then, he pried open the cockpit hatch with his sword, and got one glimpse of the pilot... he was a large, muscular man with several red tatoos along his naked chest and arms. His flight helmet didn't cover the bottom of his bloodily scarred face...but the one thing that was striking about him was how he stared death straight in the face... ...before Serien plunged his blade through his chest, lifted him out of the cockpit, and threw him to the road below, all as the jet fell closer and closer to the ground. As the jet hovered tenuous inches above the ground, Serien leaped off, landing next to the impaled body of the leader pilot as the leader jet exploded behind him. The leader gurgled incoherently, coughed up an entire mouthful of blood, then tensed up...and a second later, stopped moving completely, his eyes still wide open, death finally having taken his life. The van was stopped several meters ahead of him, and he began to walk back to it, the Relumine in his hands, as Ekazu and Arkadi stared widely at him. Aishou's face was crossed with a small smile, most of her emotions swirling about her mind rather than shown on her face. She was amazed by his bravery, his courage...and her usually somber mood was brightened significantly, until Aurora laughed softly and said, "Yeah! That's my Serien for ya!" To this Arkadi turned around, his mouth still halfway agape, and said wryly to Aurora, "Heh..you know I'm waaay cuter than him." Aurora frowned and told him, "Well, he doesn't leave me hanging, unlike some people here...", she said, her sarcasm obviously indicating Arkadi. At this, Arkadi shut up and shifted his attention to Serien, climbing into the driver's seat of the van with a lopsided smile on his face, saying, "Everybody ready to go?" . . . The rest of the drive, quite thankfully, was rather uneventful. Though the egregiously long Duralo Expressway proved rather annoying with half of the roof and the trunk missing, no one but Ekazu, stuck in the back, complained about it.