Story:Kings of Strife/Part 5

Part Five
Lieutenant Vikcent Hyusei's boots echoed softly as he walked through the halls of Nures Headquarters South Complex. Now that he had been returned to the Nneonian government’s capital in Nures City, he had been summoned to the south complex almost immediately. When he visited his barracks – they smelled like his comrades, his roomates – he could only bear to remove the extremities of his uniform before he had to leave the premises. It was simply too much.

Now, the various soldiers around him saluted to him as he passed (a luxury afforded to him because of his Herohji placement, something that really should have been a secret to most people), but he didn't even glance at them or return the formality. Hyusei’s pearl blue eyes were clouded by doubts and regrets.

It did not take long before he arrived at his destination, the debriefing office at the back of the building. Hesitating, Vik ran his left hand through his jet black hair, slicking it to the side as he unconsciously did, and rubbed the sides of his face. A thin line of hair was beginning to grow in, and his hair was growing longer. A shave would be necessary within days. Still thinking of everything except the task in front of him, Vik opened the door into the room and entered. Two guards stood inside the doorway and one started walking forward when Vik entered, not even bothering to turn and see if he was being followed. Vik assumed he was to follow him and took up step behind the larger man. The door he had entered led into a dimly lit hallway with doors on both sides, all most likely leading to individual interrogation rooms. After about two minutes of silent travel, the guard led him to a door about halfway down the path and took up a stoic stance outside of it. Vik took this as his cue to go in, and entered the room.

Inside, the interrogation chamber was just as dim as its hallway, if not more so. The room surely had a reason for the darkness, but the soldier had never been interrogated before, so its purpose evaded him. The interior of the room was a bit larger than he envisioned, considering how close together the doors were in the hallway. The perimeter of the section was wide and broad with a short ceiling that was only a few inches taller than he was. A mahogany table with a solitary chair sat waiting in front of him, and three of the four walls around him were empty. The one facing him was covered by a large mirror, almost certainly double sided. He sat at the table and looked down, awaiting his judgment.

"....Lieutenant Vikcent Hyusei. Correct?" The interrogating voice was metallic and came from the direction of the mirror. Just as he thought - they could see him, but he couldn't see them. They were probably coldly devising how many years he should suffer before he would be executed for his cowardice. He simply nodded at the mention of his name, deciding that silence would be his best friend for now. “Sit.” He did as commanded.

"Were you or were you not involved in the top secret mission investigating the criminal organization "Ouroboros"?" He nodded again. No comment needed, they were simply asking him the usual questions they ask every incoming agent. Confirmation of mission, awareness of situation, etc, etc. The real interrogation would soon begin. "Do you deny that you are the only survivor of the mission?" He shook his head this time. The others' bodies were mangled and obviously dead, a fact he vividly remembered. A shudder involuntarily shook him as he remembered how terribly ravaged their bodies were at the funeral. Nobody should have had to die like that. "And do you deny that the information the Herohji squad was sent to retrieve was destroyed?" Once again, he nodded affirmative. "Very well, then.

"Lieutenant Vikcent Hyusei, you are hereby promoted four ranks to Lieutenant Colonel for your heroic efforts. In addition, you will also be awarded the Badge of Outstanding Duty in twelve days. Until then, and for another twelve days afterwards, you are relieved of duty and on a paid leave of absence for rest and relaxation. Understood?" Dumbfounded, Vik looked up towards the mirror, only to be met with his own shocked face. Why was he being rewarded so? Could it be foul play? The disembodied voice took his silence as acceptance. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant Colonel Hyusei. Good day, hero." Vik didn't move for a moment, still stuck on the situation. Was he imagining the voice saying "hero" with a tinge of spite? The guard came in with some unknown cue and ushered him out the door.

Once outside in the hallway again, the guard took point back in front of the door. Vik continued to psychologically look back on the impasse between him and his answers, but after realizing that he was being glared at by the guard, he turned around and staggered down the hallway again. Numbly and absently, he showed himself back out of the compound until he reached the door from which he came, and continued to mindlessly stagger his way back to his barrack, somehow finding his way to sit on his bed. The smell of his friends didn’t even penetrate his nostrils this time.

“A promotion... A Badge of Outstanding Duty... I'm even getting a whole month of paid vacation. But... why?” So desperate was his struggle, Vik began to speak to himself in incredulation. “I didn't do anything admirable. I let the enemy and the information get away. All of my comrades were killed...” This was particularly disturbing to him. “And I was too pathetic and afraid to do anything.” He looked up to his ceiling and began to cry in silent despair. “I don't understand! How... How could a coward like me be rewarded for living? They all fought... They all did their duty! And they died for it! They should be the ones with the rewards, not me... They should be alive!” Hot tears fell down from his eyes to his chest. The otherwise crew-neck turquoise undershirt that went under his uniform was a little ragged and the collar had degraded into a deep v-neck, exposing his torso to his sorrowful drops.

Newly titled Lieutenant Colonel Vik now stood up and clenched his fists. A change, better yet an evolution, had come over him and his feelings. His voice came out cracked yet laced with deadly anger. "They're sullying your good names, my friends... I will make things right. I was supposed to be noble and serve my country, but instead I sat back and watched as you all did just that. I won't let your deaths go to waste. I swear, I'll... I'll find everything I can about Ouroboros, and I will stop them." The sorrow in his eyes were suddenly replaced with hot fury and determination. "Or I will die trying."

****

Like a whisper in the bright night, Maria thought of just how long she had been marveling the beautiful shower. It had felt like hours to her, and the darkness had increased in magnitude considerably. Should she feel something about that? Perhaps Crono needed her help, she reasoned. He was wounded, after all.It was getting late, she figured. The peace had been refreshing, but as with everything good in the world, she knew it couldn't last.

And so Maria Zorphan – she still had a habit of referring to herself with her full name - turned around and hopped off the perimeter's railing. Her boots tapped on the hardwood floor of the airship. She froze like a statue in her half bent over, half crouching form until a moment's pause yielded that she was still undetected. A quiet breath of relief escaped her lips as she stood up and looked back towards the sky one last time. Truly a beautiful sight - one she would never forget. If anything, this night would be cemented in her memory. Finally a good one! As she moved to turn away and return to the cabin, something in the air caught her attention.

She turned towards it and narrowed her eyes. The object was out of place in the teal comet-ridden skies, if only for its relative darkness. It didn't shine in the night like the comets did. If anything, the object seemed to glide in the same fashion as the airship she was on. It continued to grow closer and larger the more she looked at it with an almost exponential rate of change. Curiosity took over her - what could possibly be its intentions?

Her eyes widened as she realized the gravity of her situation. What was obviously another airship was moving very fast and was dangerously close, now - she could see its upper deck if she squinted. But she didn't take the time to, and instead turned away. Now with another airship moving closer, the crew were bound to enter the main deck and investigate. Stealth was nowhere near the top of her priority list this time, and as she ran towards the back stairs of the deck, her shoes clicked on the floor at an audible volume. For the first time since she arrived on the deck, crew members stopped and shouted at her. She was almost to the stairs when the very floor under her rocked, like the floor was yanked up from under her. She fell face-first and rolled on the floor.

Maria's vision went dark for a moment before she revived. The upper deck was now rife with commotion - the scant crew members were frantically dashing around the deck, apparently ignoring her. Whatever had happened must have been serious. She pushed herself up from her perch on the ground and rubbed duly aching forehead. She gave a double take when her hands came back wet with thick blood. “Am I in pain? Has something happened to me?” Numbly, she dabbed at her forehead with a portion of her violet cloak and glanced at the side. The loud crash originated from her right, the direction that the other airship was approaching from. The airship had rammed into hers and was now flying at a course parallel to theirs, and what looked like a wide, chrome colored bridge was connecting the two airships, perching on top of the railings she was previously sitting on.

Men on the other airship were swarming around the bridge they had erected. Some of them were starting to climb up on it, and from what she could tell, they had rifles. Some had swords. “Pirates?!” She struggled to understand her predicament and get to work on her solution, let alone stand up. Her arms were starting to tremble. She finally stood up, her vision blurring, and rubbed her forehead with the coat sleeve yet again. However she had hurt herself, the blood was greedily rushing to meet the air around her. It was distressing and Maria knew not how to combat it. She staggered towards the deck stairs amidst a flurry of crew members.

Finally one stopped in his tracks as she walked by and grabbed her shoulders. She looked towards him in fear as he shouted words to her. Maria's eyes widened and looked behind his shoulders, for what she saw behind him terrified her. The crewman shook her and looked her in her eyes. There was nothing to say to him, even as danger crept up behind him. He moved to slap her - the pirate aimed – and the crewman’s hand froze in midair. His eyes widened, he convulsed, and then his movement stopped. Limply he fell and took Maria’s miniscule weight with him as the two tumbled to the ground.

There was a moment of silence for Maria as the pirate who shot the crewman ran off. The spilled blood from the man wet her hands which hungrily groped at the man for some sign of life. Was it really possible that he was dead? “Of course it is… I mustn’t be a fool, not now,” Maria thought to herself. She pushed his heavy corpse off her and he slipped to the ground, his back facing the stars. There was a gaping and bloody gunshot wound that opened the space between the man’s head and his neck that punctured the small spinal bone there. It failed to disgust her.

She fearfully looked back towards the enemy airship. Still more men ran over the bridge between the two flying machines, attacking and pillaging and killing. Their numbers were more than that of the crew of her ship, their numerous outfits clashing with the uniforms of her crew. It was obvious that the pirates, aided by their random and uncomprehensible fury, outnumbered the crew, and the rising casualties did not help that deadly ratio. At this rate, the pirates would be in control and have the entire ship under their thumb. The women and children would be violated or killed, the men murdered or conscripted. “It’s all happened so fast!” A morbid sense of wonder coated her self-pondering.

She could envision Crono fighting back - to save her, or everyone else? - but with his injuries... There was no way he'd be able to take down an entire crew of pirates with guns and swords when he couldn’t beat the one man in Troia. But he, unlike her, was still somewhat safe beneath the upper deck. A pressing dilemma indeed.

Running from the problem was no solution, Maria knew, but Crono was remarkably sharp on his feet and always knew what to do. If he couldn't fight, they'd have to find a way to escape or hide somewhere. Of course, she would have to meet back up with him before any of that could take place, she knew. So she wearily pushed the corpse off her legs entirely and stood up in a dizzy frenzy. Her running footsteps continued to ring on the hardwood floor. Finally, improbably, she made it to the deck stairs. They were deserted now - all of the crew that was going to fight were already up on the upper deck, more than likely fighting to their last breath.

Maria started down the stairs when she was once again robbed of a floor beneath her. Another explosion caused her to fly through the air for a second before hitting near the bottom of the stairs and rolling down them until landing on the floor, hard. This time she fell on her back, but the injury was still amazingly painful. Her shoulders ached and breathing was difficult as she pushed herself up off the ground for what seemed the umpteenth time that night. Looking behind her to make sure her back was clear, she grabbed her sore left shoulder with one hand and continued towards the resident deck entrance. Even more blood trickled through her fingers. She was almost crying as she jostled the doorknob like it was the gate to heaven. “Could this be relief I feel, or some form of sorrow?”

The door would not open.

Now she was excited, filled with nervous energy that made her frantic. Both hands shook at the doorknob, albeit with considerable pain. Now there was unshakeable proof that the door was indeed locked. She sank to her knees and stared at the floor with shaken eyes. An explanation manifested itself; “The crew... They must have locked it so the residents could stay safe. There must be other crew members down there, to protect the passengers in case the door was broken down. Of course...” No matter how logical the answer was, it still filled her with malicious hatred at her situation and her foolishness.

She looked back up to the deck staircase, and her gaze traveled upwards. Above the tall staircase was the wide opening to the upper deck. From its height, the moonlight formed a column that framed her and the door perfectly. For a moment, it was beautiful, she imagined - a spotlight from the stars in a chaotic night.

And in a moment, it was tainted by a foreigner with a blade. She confirmed that it was a pirate as he stepped once more onto the stairs and she saw his darkly shaded camouflage outfit. "Don't worry, child. I'll get that door open for you....With a little bang for your buck, as well." She couldn't see him, but Maria knew, she felt his disgusting, devilish smirk with that statement. His intentions were clear. A wave of resentment and hatred washed through her, pulling away most of her pain for the moment. An emotional anomaly.

Before long, she felt them all rushing back to her. Fear, hopelessness. Rage. Despair. The pain again. The emotions that she struggled to understand were now flooding her cerebral centers, overloading her comprehension. It was too much. She backed against the locked door and stared, wide-eyed, at the pirate as he leisurely walked down the long stairs. “Why must this happen to me constantly? Have I been cursed?” Yet another explosion hit the deck floor, but the pirate managed to hold his composure and continue walking, unlike her. Obviously nothing would sway him. Maria held herself and felt hot, silent tears streak down her face.

There was no way she'd be able to withstand this. Not again. Without a moment of hesitation, she began to violently bang her head on the hard wall behind her. The pirate's footsteps sped up, as if to catch and stop her, but after four crashes she fainted. Her column of light vanished in an instant.

What took its place was a prison of darkness. The emotions that once warmed her body had disappeared magnanimously, leaving behind a void almost as black as the one around her. Maria recognized this place, the bastardly deep space that she fought so hard to escape the first time she held a memory in her mind. “But why was it so important then?”

That was something different from last time – she could speak now. It would comfort her, she knew, for this was not somewhere she wanted to leave anymore. Anything was better than the siege that was taking place outside of her safe haven. “Is that what this is? My personal safety?”

The darkness absconded, taking with it her sense of security. She felt the anxiety in her toes before it registered in her brain. The darkness and the loneliness was all that she had, the only thing that was only hers to understand, and it had left her in a flat land of strange ornamentations and a checkerboard floor.

She began to wander about the strange platform, her shoes making a tapping sound similar to that they made on the airship. For some reason she felt a sense of pity for the land that was so obviously neglected. Giant craters racked the ground, and gigantic skinny stalks protruded randomly from the floor as they reached for the black sky. The entire horizon, for as long as she could see, was a blend of the dark horizon and the white-and-black floor. Try as she might, Maria couldn’t imagine a single odd thing about the landscape; on the contrary, it was perfectly acceptable to her.

There was no way to know how long or how far Maria Zorphan walked in this place. Nothing around the area changed at all, no matter which direction she went or looked. Without cognizant control, she stopped walking eventually and stood still. A wind came from what felt like every direction, shifting her cloak around her body and pulling it every which way. Pure white wires wrapped around her extremities like the fingers of the detached breeze, grasping at her and pulling tightly once they met her. Red droplets burst from the wire’s grip and splashed onto the floor beneath her. There was no pain.

The wires held so tightly onto her that Maria found herself suspended a few inches off the ground by them. It was then that she realized that there most likely was pain, but she was entirely numb to it. She moved to speak and found her throat useless once again. A woman appeared before her in a blink of her eyes, shrouded in a cloak not unlike hers. As it moved in the wind, she could see that this woman had very long black hair much like hers and that the woman was entirely naked besides her pure red cloak. It shone in the darkness with the same luster as her blood and so did the woman’s eyes. They were very large and wide, staring into Maria’s with ceaseless tenacity. Maria swore she could see everything in this woman’s crimson orbs as if they were globes to the world itself. “Despicable.” The woman’s petite and red lips parted to speak this single word. It echoed throughout the land as if a curse, instantly setting every single stalk in the ground onto a pure white fire. The heat slammed into Maria like a wave, causing her to squirm violently and clench her eyes shut tightly. With the amazing heat came almost palpable agony, a spiritual one that transcended the growing wounds throughout her bound body. She wanted to scream but again could not.

Visions blurred and Maria Zorphan began to lose sight of the area around her. Not only did it disappear from her vision, but she could feel her clothes melting off and the wires constricting her to the bone. Memories of the area faded, memories of the heat disappeared, and all that was left in her mind was the saturated red hue of the mysterious woman’s eyes.

****

Vik's face was illuminated by the dim light of the data terminal in the Southern Headquarter's Datalog laboratory. He tapped his finger on the desk he sat at impatiently as he waited for the data he selected to transfer to his mobile device. “Damn datalogs taking forever to sync…” After a minute or two, a familiar light blinked on his portable Datalog, and he disconnected it from the army's terminal. It now held every file of information that pertained to his purposes, or at least the ones that a Lieutenant Colonel could access freely. He looked around him as he shut down the secret documents he was browsing and transferring. It would be too risky to stay here and peruse them all, and he needed all the rest he could get for his trip tomorrow. “I must rest while I can,” he whispered to himself. “I must get all my rest so that I leave at first light and do not lose a single ounce of my courage.” He shut down the Datalog terminal and stepped away from the desk while slipping his Datalog in his pocket. He left the office room and quietly took the stairs back down to the ground floor. All along the way he continued to whisper to himself and nurture his plans.

“I’ll need to pilfer as much food as I can from the cafeteria as I leave. The climb will be harsh and long.” The complex was almost completely empty by this time of night. Vik couldn’t sleep lately because of how focused and determined he was. “I cannot afford to lose my way in any form or fashion… If what I’ve seen is right, then Ouroboros has been working in Nneoh for its Crystal, whatever that is. All leads point to Mount Gulg…” He unconsciously gulped before scolding himself for his moment of hesitation. Vikcent Hyusei was supposed to have killed all sources of hesitation in his life.

The guards greeted him as he left. "Leaving already, Colonel Hyusei? Did you accomplish what you needed?" The sentry closest to the door, and most likely the least experienced one judging from his cheerful tone, addressed him as he left. Vik frowned and ignored him. “Mount Gulg hasn’t erupted in millions of years, but it is still the tallest mountain in the world, and I can’t afford to have a single margin of error.”

The stagnant night air prompted Vik to begin to sweat a bit due to the heavy winter coat he wore over his uniform tunic and pants. While useless now, it would be essential to his survival the higher he climbed on Mount Gulg. “Hopefully my theory is correct and the Crystal isn’t on the summit.” That would explain why it had never been found before, because no man had ever made it to the summit. If that was true, there was still the matter of finding it and hiding it. Even though he knew no idea what this Crystal was, it was apparently essential to Ouroboros’ agenda and was thus crucial to Vik’s agenda. Whatever it took to antagonize the group was something that had to be done. “The ancient legends spoke of the porcelain furnace atop Gulg and how its tomb provided the catalyst for Gulg’s eruptions, and early intelligence reports went out of their way to discuss these legends… But since it hasn’t erupted in millennia, has the Crystal been absent for such a time?” If this was true, what explained Ouroboros’ agenda in Nneoh? Vik realized he was doubting himself again and mentally reprimanded himself. “Never must I hesitate, never again.” He didn’t want to admit how frustrating it would be if his only lead was false… No wonder the organization was so secret.

“The trip ought to take me a week, just climbing Gulg itself. Hopefully I can find the Crystal within a day or two, leaving me with another week to safely return before the higher-ups realize I went AWOL.” That’ll be the point in which he’ll be cut off to all federal resources, which seriously hindered the next phase of his plan. “Secret reports say that Inusia’s Crystal was recently stolen, which means that it really is Ouroboros. I’ve got to find that one and take it back, too. Whatever it takes.”

Vik looked up to the sky as he neared the barracks. The sun would be rising in a couple of hours, but for now the sky was pitch black. Not a single star shined in the face of ensuing daybreak. His expression hardened. “I will make the stars shine again for you, my friends.” He looked back down to where he was going. “No hesitation. I swear it.”

****

A voice penetrated the darkness and was followed by tiny spears of light. The terrible darkness gave out a final dying wheeze and allowed itself to succumb to the ensuing illumination. “Maria?”

"Maria!" She was shaking. Everything was moving, and the voice was so loud,

"Maria! Wake up!"

Her eyes flicked open and she immediately sat up with difficulty. The sun was in the air and Maria Zorphan was on the deck of the ship, no longer anywhere near the stairs she passed out by. A quick observation proved that she was in Crono's arms, and around the two was a crowd of people, mostly passengers with some disheveled crew. A natural blush rose on her face followed by confusion and slight fear, but she didn't exactly try to leave his embrace just yet. It was calming and warm.

The people hesitantly watched her every move and refused to make eye contact with her. She slowly touched her forehead, feeling for the dried blood caked on the site of her injury. Were her wounds bad enough that they disgusted the people around her? She attempted to speak, only to cringe at her throat’s amazing dryness. "What...What happened? The pirates..." A brief flash of relief occurred in her when she found that she actually could speak now. Was the bright red just another dream, then…? Crono nervously chuckled and helped her stand, something that was upsetting to her; he was trying to distance himself from her? That fact hurt her instinctively.

"You happened. Don't you, uh....Don't you remember?" She shook her head and examined her surroundings more closely. As she did so, the mob around her seemed to fearfully surge backwards. A lot of the deck floor was red - blood red. She looked down, and the same color decorated her clothes. Her hands were caked in the dried fluid. She even noticed that she had dried blood in her nails, although it was a bit of an annoyance to realize such things even mattered to her.

"Is...Is this blood? No... I... It can't be." She looked into Crono’s eyes pleadingly. They were clouded again and the same dark bags hung around beneath them. It was obvious he had not slept. "It can't be... Right?"

He averted her gaze - like the bystanders - and continued to speak. "Most of the crew was under the deck with the passengers. If it weren't for you up there, those pirates would have taken over. All of us. But, you, ah..." He seemed to be searching for the right word as an absent hand scratched at his unruly black hair. He had a habit of doing that, Maria had realized. She pleaded with him in her mind not to continue. He did. "You killed them." The wrong word choice, he realized immediately, when she turned her head from his and started to push through the crowd. There was little resistance. He spoke quickly, to make up for his mistake. "A lot of crew members died, but that's alright, you drove off the pirates, an-"

Maria's voice rose, cutting him off and drawing his eyes into hers for the first time in a while. "No! You're wrong. It wasn't me, it-it-it couldn't have been me!" Tears obscured her vision and she rubbed her face. Instantly she ceased the action, repulsed by the smelling blood on her hands. How disgusting. How despicable. "It wasn't me, I can’t do that, that couldn't have been... No, it was her! I couldn't... That explains it… It was her and I’m sure of it!" Her ranting began to border on lucid madness. Crono grabbed her hand, seemingly not repulsed by the stinking blood, and started to lead her towards the stairs, and she could barely see that the crowd was still watching her. They were only overwhelming her more. “Don’t you smell it?! It’s disgusting! I couldn’t have!”

"Come on. Let's go. Don't worry about them." He pulled her along with a tight, warm grip, apparently ignoring what she was saying, and she stumbled to keep up while feeling nauseated. The blood had the worst smell she had ever had to take notice of, unlike anything she ever experienced before. It was intoxicating. She started to violently scratch and scrape at her clothes, at her skin, to just get it off, get it off! Her tears stained the floor as Crono led the way.

“You listen to me!” Now she moved to weakly beating on Crono’s back in order to grab his attention. “It wasn’t me! She did it, I can see her! I know it was her! The same woman from before, from Troia! The red eyes, can’t you see?! Her eyes... Her eyes…” Outside, the sun had risen to its full glory, painting the sky blue and orange. The brilliant colors infiltrated the atmosphere and drove off the night and the darkness. It shed light on the corpses littering the main deck and the frightened passengers trying, with futile yet fervent efforts, to ignore them or simply dispose of them. With the night and the bodies fled the comets, and thus Maria's perfect night. The innocence of the night was gone forever.

...End of Part Five.

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