Foreboding Times
By Craxton
Craxton advanced upon the hooded figure friendlily. "Greetings, M'lord.
It's been a while." The figure sighed. "'My lord' he calls me." Smiling,
he pulled down the hood. "You know, It's perfectly alright to call me
Grandpa." He extended a human-looking hand to Craxton, and they clasped
forearms. "Grandpa?" Craxton asked with a smirk. "Lord Bahamut, I
wouldn't
even dream of assuming to be on such a level with the King of Dragons,
Espers, and miscellaneous magical creatures."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come in, come in!" he said.
A few minutes later, they walked into a spacious room resembling a
Dragon-
sized living room/study. Bahamut reverted to his true form - that of a
blue
Dragon, and immediately started acting grandfatherly. "You seem to have
grown quite a bit, Craxton. Let me have a look at your true form."
"Um, this IS my true form."
Bahamut regarded him a bit strangely. "Where did you get a true form
like
that?"
Craxton shrugged. "Genetics, I guess."
Bahamut frowned. "Strange... I don't know of any other being with a
half-and-half form..." He thought a minute. "Let's see... Slipgate was
my child by the human... Danae DeMaur..." the dragon king spoke her name
a bit wistfully. "Your mother, I believe, was the descendant of Kupurupu,
the famed moogle-girl? And... wait, wasn't one of your
great-grandfathers
a prince of Tycoon during the Hiryumann dynasty? Or was that your
maternal
great-uncle..."
Craxton cut him off. "My mother's ethnic lineage is like integral
calculus:
insanely complicated and best left alone."
Bahamut chuckled. "Yes, yes, I can see how that might be the case. Won't
you
sit down?" He gestured to a seat, but the notion of relaxation instantly
brought to mind the reason for Craxton's presence. "No, no thank you.
I'm
afraid I'm in a bit of a rush, Lord Bahamut."
The dragon king looked surprised. "To much of a rush to..."
"Yes, I'm afraid. There is some trouble on AGFF. I have to use the
Worldgate
to get back immediately... with your permission, of course."
"Trouble?" he thought for a moment, then smiled. "Ah, of course. Fine
then,
stay here for tonight. Tommorrow morning, after breakfast, you may use
the
gate."
"TOMORROW?!... I mean... Lord Bahamut, this is a matter of the utmost
urgency..."
"More urgency then catching up with your old dragon's old dragon?"
Craxton was becoming a bit frustrated. "To be blunt, yes. You see..."
"Ohhhhhhhh, I get it. Some big, all-encompassing threat to the very
existance of AGFF looms on the horizon or somesuch?"
"Ummm... yes, you could say..."
"Well, there you have it, sonny!"
If Bahamut thought the point was obvious, he was mistaken. "I... don't
quite follow you..."
Bahamut sighed. "Craxton, Craxton, Craxton..." he placed a large paw on
his grandson's shoulder, careful not to crush him completely while doing
so. "When on a quest of major importance, ALWAYS restore your HP and MP
at any opportunity!"
Craxton could only retort: "..."
======
The desert was barren, by human standards. Fortunately it only went for
another two hundred meters or so. Just over the next rise, they would be
able to see it. Cresting the ridge, the two Chocobos ground to a halt.
Kim and Jason stared out over the sands, toward their destination.
"Looks like a pretty seedy place." Kim commented.
Jason nodded. "It is. Very much so."
"How much so?"
"Ever seen Star Wars?"
"Of course."
"Remember Mos Eisley?"
"Yes."
"A hundred times worse."
"Great."
"Come on, let's move." they started off toward the seedy metropolis,
unable to keep from thinking that the designer had had Vegas in mind.
Jason continued to speak. "The source of this newsgroup's bad reputation
is the uninhibited sexuality. You'll be marked as a target by many of
the lowlifes, since..." He was cut off as a flash appeared in their
path.
"The HELL?" The startled Chocobos started running in circles. Kim and
Jason were thrown off and landed a few feet away. Jason, a trained
fighter, jumped to his feet, drew his sword, and found himself face to
face with...
"Slipgate?!" said Jason.
"Jason?!" said Slipgate.
"What are you..." they both said.
"doing here?" they both finished.
Then there was silence. Both groups, relieved they hadn't just been
dropped into an encounter with hostile forces, took stock of the
situation. Kim and Jason, sans Chocobos, faced Slipgate, Atma, Linda,
and Cherubae. Both groups wondered how the other had gotten there, and
both wondered what had happened to the remaining members.
"Where are you headed?" Slipgate asked finally.
"Same place as you, I'd bet."
"How'd you get here?"
"You first."
"Okay..."
======
The astral plane is a fast way for thoughts to travel, but not fast
enough
to cover the distance between the earth and the moon in less than a few
hours, at least. It was midnight, AGFF time, when the thought hit.
Craxton
had been asleep at the time, and the shock jolted him out of a dream he
would never be able to remember. It just broke up into another dream.
In this other dream, he was flying, barely conscious, through a series
of
tunnels, reminiscent of something he couldn't quite recall at the
time...
The tunnels eventually came to an end, and he swam back to consciousness
and
opened his eyes slowly. Before him he saw Mr. X, grinning at him evilly,
holding a black sword, and ready for combat.
Suddenly the two were in the middle of nowhere... he thought... standing
on
something he couldn't discern clearly, and facing each other, weapons
drawn.
They eyed each other warily for a minute, like a showdown from a western
movie.
Craxton beat his opponent to the draw, launching into a furious
Omnislash,
*slash*, *slash*, *slash*, *slash*, *slash*, *slash*, *slash*, *slash*,
*slash*, *slash*, *slash*, *slash*, *slash*, *slash*, and then a high
jump
in the air, the energy radiating from his sword, his opponent, badly
wounded,
barely managing to stand below. Their eyes locked a final time...
*SLAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!*
His opponent stumbled, mortally wounded and bleeding badly. With an odd
look
of fear, he was drawn backwards into the nothingness and disintegrated.
Suddenly, a stream of light, in the form of a hundred thousand droplets
of
varying size, surrounded Craxton, and coalesced around him, healing his
wounds, and sending an odd but not unpleasent sense of warmth throughout
his body. He turned his face skyward, and stared in amazement.
He was standing in a column of light, and reaching toward the source.
From
out of the light came a young woman's hand... he recognized it as
belonging
to Relm. He reached toward the hand...
By now he knew where his mind was getting the information for all this.
Right on cue, the shot cut away, and he was back in the collapsing
cavern...
But...
There was no one else there.
Abruptly the rock he was standing on collapsed, and he fell. His body
and spirit tired, his wings non-functional, he fell toward the pool of
boiling green fluid.
And in a flash, his mind became aware, and he knew... Relm was dead.
He plunged into the pool, and would have met his demise...
But before that happened, the dream changed.
======
All things considered, alt.flame looked like a scene from a Mad Max
movie. Actually, it looked more like a scene from a cheap ripoff of a
Mad Max movie. Once you got used to the low light level, you could make
out a barren scene full of all sorts of junkpiles. Some buildings were
off in the distance, undoubtedly filled with some of the most hellish
creatures imaginable. Once every few minutes,you could hear a tortured
scream from somewhere in the distance. You got the feeling that, at any
moment, something might jump out of nowhere and try and flay you alive.
In fact, after thinking about it, you'd realize alt.flame looked nothing
like anything related to Mad Max. It looked like a scene out of Doom.
It was with this perception that Dave, Eyeglazer, and the Celes clone
crept slowly and alertly over the sands, heading for a structure that
looked somewhat intact, hoping they would spot the enemy before the
enemy spotted them. Unbeknownst to them, one of the enemy was already
following them.
The shadow
thumbed a small communications device. "y0, K0n+R0L."
"$Up,
d3Wd?"
"g0+ $0m3
UnKn0WnZ @r0Und H3r3. R33l W31rD $K1nZ, 2..."
"L3+ m3 C
'3M."
"k..." He
flipped a small switch on his helmet, routing the image through
to control. There was a brief pause while his superior considered the
newcomers. They looked familiar...
"BRB,
d3Wd." the superior punched a few keys on his computer, bringing
up a list of possible enemies to the organization. "pH0UnD '3M, d3Wd.
$0m3 l@m3rZ pHr0m AGFF."
"AGFF?!
pHUqUe! +H3y \/\/1+H X?"
"n0p3."
"Wh@+ I
d0, K0n+R0L?"
"U n33D 2
@$K? pHr@g '3M!"
"k." The
marine grinned, and readied his Rocket Launcher.
======
He was still dreaming, but not the same dream. He dreamed of waking...
as if the dream before had been a dream within a dream. In this dream
he was enveloped in an incredible, comforting softness. Almost like
being in the womb. He opened his eyes, slowly, as if doing so would
dispel the sense of peace he felt. But it didn't.
He found himself in a plush, spacious, but not extravagent bedroom.
Actually, on a second thought, it was fairly normal for a bedroom. The
sense of plush spaciousness was an effect of his peaceful mind's
perception. And the bedsheets, which were softer then he imagined
sheets could be. It slowly dawned on him that this was not the room
Bahamut had given him. Yet, if he was still dreaming, the dream was
unnervingly realistic. He drew back the covers to get out of the bed,
and in doing so realized he was completely naked. He saw a bathrobe
hanging on the bedpost, and hurriaedly grabbed it, and slipped it on.
He noticed that the robe had slits in the back, exactly where his wings
were.
Tying the robe, he took a better look at the bed. It was big enough for
two, and between the sheets and the mattress were some discarded
garments,
evidence of some doings the night before.
Presently he became aware of a sound. His ears perked up. It seemed to
be
coming from an adjoining room. He walked to the door, slowly, and
realized
it was a voice.
He walked closer. It was a female voice, humming a tune. He reached the
door, opened it slowly, walked into the room, and realized the tune was
"The Wanderer of Time."
The room he was in now was a typical living room, much like the room
before
had been a typical bedroom. It had a sense of serenity about it, just
like
before. It had all the usual niceties, but Craxton didn't notice them.
Over by a large window, a woman of incomparable beauty stood, also in a
bathrobe. She was brushing a mane of long, waist-length blond hair,
admiring the view, and humming "The Wanderer of Time."
'Oh my dear gods...' Craxton thought. 'It can't be...'
It was. Sensing his presence, she turned around to face him, and smiled
slightly.
"Good morning, Craxton."
"Oh my gods..." This time he said it aloud. "Celes?"
Her smile widened, and she walked toward him. "I'm glad you remember
me, love. It's been so long, I thought..."
"How could I...?" but he was suddenly at a loss for words. Celes...
alive?
No, she had died. He had watched helplessly...
She seemed to read his mind. "Yes, it's me." her face fell. "And yes...
I'm dead." She flashed him a half-smile. "But like you said, I am the
woman of your dreams."
He took her hands in his, and they were solid. Real. Or real enough.
"Celes... I..."
"Shhhhhhh..." she whispered, putting a finger on his lips. "It can
wait."
She embraced him, and they held each other tightly. He brought his wings
around, wrapping them around the two of them. They just held each other
for a long time, saying nothing, doing nothing, just holding one
another.
"Craxton..." she whispered softly in his ear, "I want you to know that
I'll
always be with you. When you are troubled, or beset with problems, or
hurt,
know that I'm always watching you, hoping with all my heart that you'll
succeed. In whatever you do. I love you, Craxton."
She lowered her voice even further, and her face seemed to wince in
pain on her next words. "You have to wake up now."
======
"We had just finished off the last of the soldiers when Bob went into
some
sort of trance. After a few seconds, he told us we would be in trouble
if
we stayed here, then he teleported us away. Not just us though. He
somehow
was able to move Greg, Cherubae, Rachel, Unright, and Small Girl as
well."
"Good thing, too." interjected Cherubae. "Greg and I were facing an
assault
of Relm clones at the time, and Greg was wounded."
"After that, we all wound up back at the wounded camp. We soon learned
that
two days had passed since we were teleported out of the fortress. Bob
apparently moved us through time as well, he wouldn't say why or how.
Bob
told us that there was trouble, and we had to get here immediately.
Since
the four of us were in the best condition for combat, we were sent here.
The
rest are at the wounded camp."
Finishing his explanation, Slipgate stepped back. "Well, what about you?
You
weren't at the camp when we got there, and with the clones Greg and Cher
encountered, we figured you had been trapped inside..."
"Not true." said Jason. "It's actually quite interesting what
happened..."
[FLASHBACK]
"To bury it?"
"Wha..." Jason and Kim spun to face the dark figure, Jason drawing his
weapon. Oddly, Kim was missing Kain's lance.
"Maybe," the figure said, unfazed, "Someone took the corpse so they
could
give it a decent burial."
Jason eyed the figure warily. He was almost a straight representation of
your classic "seedy, dark figure" type. His outfit was a nondescript
gray,
complete with cloak, and a shirt whose sleeves gave the impression of
something well concealed up them. A short sword was strapped to his
back,
and a dagger hung from his belt. He had a cool, calm, businesslike
expression on his face, and needed a shave.
"Who are you?" asked Kim.
The figure smiled. "A friend. Maybe."
"Give the lady a name." Jason said menacingly. "And tell us what you're
doing here."
"Or what?"
"Buddy, this is a very big, very heavy, very deadly sword in my hands
here."
The figure cocked an eyebrow. "Is it now?" he put up his hands in a
defensive
gesture. "Well..." The figure went for his sword, and launched himself
at
Jason. Less than a minute later, the Master of Medieval Weapons was
disarmed
and pinned to the ground on his back, with the stranger's sword at his
throat. "It's not the size that counts," he said with a smirk, "it's how
you use it. Right, Miss Wild?"
"Let him go." was all Kim said. A threatening expression and pose
accompanied
this statement.
The stranger shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" He leapt a few meters away, and
returned his sword to its sheath.
"To answer your question, my name is Daron. Daron LeCyrwey."
"LeCyrwey? Is that French or something?" The stranger certainly didn't
speak with a French accent, but that was a hell of a weird name
otherwise.
"Don't know. Don't care. Never paid much attention to my family tree."
"What are you doing here?"
"You mean besides teaching the arrogant knight with the big sword a
lesson in humility?"
"Go to alt.flame." Jason retorted.
Daron chuckled. "I'd say the same to you, but I'm about to send you
someplace far, far worse."
Taking that as a threat, Jason grabbed his sword and dropped into a
combat
stance. Daron laughed at this. "Come now, mister 'long, broad, deadly
sword.'
If I was going to kill you, I would have done it just now. No, I'm here
to
give you a lead."
"A lead?"
"Yeah. You want to find the people behind this, don't you?"
Jason and Kim nodded. "Well, if I were you, I'd follow the money trail."
"Money trail?"
"Yeah. The cloning subdivision not only mass-produced soldiers, they
also
produced..." He paused, hunting for the right word, "revenue for most of
the
organization. Can't have a conspiracy without shady funds to keep it
going,
can you? The cloning subdivision produced 85% of the organization's
illicit
funds."
"How'd it do that?"
"By harnessing the oldest profitable source of money known to man, of
course."
"And that is?"
Daron smiled slightly, as if relishing the delivering of this piece of
information. "Sex."
The expression on the two faces was priceless. "Sex?" Kim asked.
"Yeah, sex. You need a description?" he smiled. "Most of the clones
produced
here were mentally altered and sold to... businesses in AGFFH as...
well, you
can guess."
For a microsecond, Kim was almost glad Kain wasn't here. He'd have spent
the
next few minutes getting rid of his lunch.
"Anyway, the point is, go to AGFFH, and you'll find the money trail.
Follow
the trail, you'll find the organization. Simple, right?"
The conversation was interrupted by commotion downstairs. "Ah." said
Daron.
"That would be X's reserve forces. Here." he tossed the pair two Warp
Stones.
"Those are keyed to take you to a Chocobo stable. I've reserved two
mounts
for you. Get them, ride east, you'll find AGFFH. No charge."
"Wait a second!" Jason said. "Do you expect us to just leave our friends
here?"
"Don't got a choice, bub. If those clones see you, they'll chase you
back up
here. With nowhere to go, and already exhausted from taking X down,
you'll be
filleted. And you know it."
"He's right." said Kim. "Daron, thank you for your help." she narrowed
her
eyes. "You will be repaid for this, I assure you." It was a double-edged
comment: If this was treachery, she would also find some way to pay
Daron
back.
"Anytime, Miss. Now, if you'll excuse me..." he said, turning to leave.
"Oh,
one more thing." he said, almost as an afterthought. "You might find
this
useful." He tossed them a small object, which Kim caught. "What is..."
But Daron had vanished.
[END FLASHBACK]
As they finished the story, Slipgate said "And you have no idea who this
'Daron LeCyrwey' might have been?"
"Not a clue. It's not a name I've heard before. You?"
Slipgate shook his head. "What about this object he gave you?"
"This?" Kim pulled out a small, rather nondescript ring, which was
glowing
softly. "It seems familiar, somehow. Maybe something I heard Kain
talking
about sometime, but..."
Slipgate squinted. "Give it to me." Kim handed over the ring, noting
that
as she did, it became darker. Slipgate examined it carefully. "Kim," he
said. "This is a Memento Ring."
Everyone was surprised. Except for Kim, who was simply confused. "A
what?"
"A Memento Ring. An object of... incredible magical power. When the
person
wearing it dies, it captures a fragment of their spirit. Not enough to
keep
them out of the next life, but enough to enchant the ring for a specific
bearer. The only person who can wear the ring is someone chosen by the
previous bearer. It's suppossed to serve as a symbol of everlasting
love.
Relm had one from her mother. In fact... yes, this is the same ring.
Which
means that it now belongs to someone she cared for." Slipgate's next
statement
surprised everybody. "And that someone is here."
"What?!" everyone said in unison.
"The ring glows brightly when near it's bearer, until it is put on for
the
first time. You saw how it was glowing when you took it out, Kim? And
how it
got darker when you handed it to me?" He looked around, estimating
distances.
"That means the new bearer would be..." he blinked a second, almost dis-
believing, then moved closer to Jason and held the ring out. It shined
white.
"You, Jason."
Again everybody was surprised. "Me? No way! Why not FuSoYa, or Craxton,
or...
or anyone! I was a defiler. I hated her! Why me?"
Slipgate shrugged. "I don't know. But you are the bearer." He took
Jason's
hand, and pressed the ring into his palm.
"Jason," Kim laid a hand on his shoulder. "I saw what happened to you on
the
roof. You were sorry for what you did. And she knew it. Maybe it's
because
she wanted you to know you were forgiven. Or maybe because you were the
last
kind face she saw."
There was a pause while everyone pondered this twist of fate. Then,
tentatively, almost afraid, Jason took the ring, and slipped it onto
his finger. The minute it contacted his skin, an image of Relm, smiling
up at him in perfect innocence, flashed through his mind. Only for a
moment, and then it was gone. The ring stopped glowing. Jason couldn't
help notice that it fit his finger as well as it had fit Relm's. "So...
what does it do?" he asked Slipgate.
Slipgate shrugged. "It depends on what kind of enchantment the spirit
wishes
to bestow. Some protect the bearers from magic, some enhance agility,
some
act as light sources... it will only have one effect, but that effect
could
be anything. You'll have to figure it out."
"Umm, guys," Atma said. "I hate to interrupt your little conference
here,
but we've got an appointment with some skin peddlers in AGFFH, and we
better get there, like, now, before someone fuckin' dehydrates out here,
you know?"
Slipgate turned to him. "I agree with your sentiments, Atma, if not your
attitude. We'd better get moving."
The group marched off to AGFFH.
======
He awoke to the bedroom Bahamut had provided for him. It was a small,
rather
sparse room, reserved for human visitors. He lay in the bed, and tried
to
puzzle out the dreams he had had. Relm, he knew now, was dead. Celes too
-
that was no surprise to him - but his love existed still, as a spirit,
watching over him - a guardian angel?
His thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the door. It opened
slowly,
and Bahamut, in human form, walked in. They looked at each other a
minute
before Bahamut broke the silence. "You felt it too? The death of the
Last
Innocent?"
"You mean Relm?"
Bahamut nodded. "Do you know what this means?"
Craxton nodded. "I have failed. Again."
Bahamut shook his head no. "Yes." he said, "But that's not all."
"..."
"Come to the inner treasure room after breakfast. The guards will show
you the way. We have many things to discuss."
======
Agent Horrocks moved through the corridors of AGFFSDIAIA headquarters at
the fastest walk imaginable to man, barely missing collisions with a
number of high-ranking officials. This was more than understandable. In
fact, many would regard it as highly professional when they learned
where
he was going. If a new recruit got called to the office of the director,
he normally RAN, half out of anticipation, half out of blind panic. Sean
Daughtery, sitting in an office with a set of cameras and monitors that
would give Orwell a run for his money, watched the Lieutenant and
smiled.
If he could conceal his mental state that well, he would be ideal for
this
mission.
The door opened as Jonny Horrocks approached, not because of sensors,
but
because Sean had pushed the button. "Director Daughtery, sir!" he said,
adding a salute. "Have a seat, Lieutenant." Sean said, and closed the
door.
Horrocks silently sat down as Sean turned to face him. "Firstly, Agent
Horrocks, you need not be so formal in my presence. A simple 'You called
me
here, Sir?' will do in the future." Horrocks nodded. Sean nodded back,
and
decided to get right to business. "Agent Horrocks, before I say
anything, I
want you to understand that everything we discuss here is classified.
Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"I have a special assignment for you. Are you familiar with the 'Relm
Files?'"
"No, sir."
"Very well then. Are you familiar with the name 'Relm Arrowney?'"
"Final Fantasy 6 character. Descendant of Mage Knights. Pictomancer. Has
been..."
"Yes, yes, that's the one. Do you know the AGFFSDIAIA's official stance
on Relm?"
"The AGFFSDIAIA states that Relm Arrowney does not exist."
"That is correct. However, I am willing to bet that you didn't know that
we
have, in our files here, conclusive proof that Relm does in fact exist."
Jonny looked startled, confused, and like he was trying to hide it. "No,
sir, I did not."
"No, you don't. Neither does most of AGFF. The reason for this is as
such:"
He handed Horrocks a manila file folder, filled with information on Relm
and
the Relm conflict. "For some time now, the AGFFSDIAIA has been
perpetuating
an elaborate deception. Some time ago, we obtained knowledge of an
ancient
prophecy fortelling disaster. Normally we don't put faith in such
sketchy
sources, but there was too much information backing this one up to
ignore.
A key figure in this prophecy was a person known as 'The Last Innocent,'
whose murder precludes and fortells said distaster. Analysis of the
prophecy,
surrounding writings, and AGFF figures produced a 94.78% chance that
Relm
Arrowney was the Last Innocent. You follow?"
Jonny nodded.
"It therefore followed that, for the sake of AGFF, we should take steps
to
prevent the death of Relm. Unfortunately, that turned out to be
politically
impossible. At the time we discovered the prophecy, FuSoYa had decided
to
take arms against a large force of people who criticized Relm for her
uselessness and bad attitude. By the time we unearthed the meaning
behind
the prophecy's words, the issue had become large and volatile enough
that the
AGFFSDIAIA could not afford to take sides. However, all was not in vain.
FuSoYa had begun assembling a cadre of warriors for the purpose of
defending
Relm from assaults, both verbal and physical. We decided that this group
had
the potential to do what we could not. But, they needed motivation. They
needed something to make them more than just an AGFF in-joke. We gave
them
that motivation, in a left-handed manner."
"We provoked the Defiler movement so that it became a serious threat to
Relm's reputation. This was done through indirect, clandestine methods.
Rumors placed here and there, jokes passed to the general populace by
our
agents, agitating the situation, you understand. One of our more famous
attempts to exacerbate the problem, though it has of course never been
linked to us, was commissioning a known artist to fabricate a certain
picture, which I'm sure you're familiar with."
"As expected, as the defiler movement grew, the Defenders grew as well,
until
they became a formidable fighting force. To maintain our neutrality, we
formally denied the existance of Relm and, to placate the populace,
assigned
agents Kim Wild and Kain Highwind to look into it. Their work, however,
has
been a cover-up. Any conclusive evidence they have collected, we have
destroyed. Thus far, the deception has worked well. Unfortunately,
recent
events have forced us to terminate the project. As you may or may not
have
heard, Relm Arrowney died three days ago during a battle at the fortress
of a
certain Mr. X. Along with Agent Highwind, and a number of others."
A look of shock crossed Jonny's face.
"However, though the project has been terminated, the end goal - namely,
averting the prophesied disaster - may still be possible. The prophesy
refers to several other people who will figure into the disaster. One is
the 'Spearbearer,' whom we now believe to be Agent Wild. That's where
you
come in."
"Subsequent to the battle, Agent Wild departed for AGFFH, we suspect to
try and hunt down the organization she believes responsible for Agent
Highwind's death. We need you to go to AGFFH and find Agent Wild and her
group. Do not reveal to Agent Wild that you are working for the
AGFFSDIAIA.
Join up with them, monitor their actions, report to me every other day,
and
be prepared to recieve further orders. Do you accept this assignment,
Agent
Horrocks?"
What else can a rookie AGFFSDIAIA agent say when offered a special
assignment
by Sean Daughtery himself?
======
Bahamut had three treasure rooms, arranged like a series of concentric
circles. In the outer room, he kept mundane things- gold, jewels,
weapons,
and so on. The inner room house unique artifacts- enchanted weapons,
magical
devices, the stuff around which legends are built. Hidden inside the
inner
room was something almost no one, not even the mage knights Bahamut
employed
as guards, knew existed. An elevator which led to the third treasure
room.
In this elevator Bahamut and Craxton rode downward. Bahamut was still in
human form, for the elevator was rather small. "This was prophesied, you
know."
"What?" Craxton said.
"The Clone Wars. They were prophesied. I didn't know it until recently,
otherwise I would have tried to prevent them. It was only last night,
when
I felt the death of Relm, that I realized what was going on."
"..."
"You know what the problem is with clones, Craxton?"
"They are a disgrace to nature. They violate and defile their originals.
They
can be easily programmed to serve evil..."
"No, no, no, no, no." Bahamut shook his head. "Those are all valid
problems,
but do you know what the main one is?"
"No."
Bahamut took a deep breath. "Clones... have no souls."
"..."
"A soul is a difficult thing to create. The only way is through the
combination of soulstuff from two other beings with souls - natural
reproduction, in other words. There are exceptions to this rule, but
they are very, very rare. A perfect clone of a being with a soul will
have the exact same mind as it's predecessor, the same intelligence,
maybe even the same memories, if the geneticist chooses to give them
to the clone, but they lack the most important thing."
"..."
"Without a soul, a clone can not feel emotion. It may be able to put
up a respectable front, but..." He shook his head sadly. "Without a
soul, they aren't human. Or moogle, or half-dragon, or whatever.
They're just a pale semblence of the original."
A small door appeared as the elevator slowed to a halt. Bahamut opened
the door, then turned to face Craxton. "Let's change the subject." he
said, and walked into the room beyond.
Craxton followed.
======
"Virtually all of the AGFFers escaped relatively unscathed. We've
detected a few of them lingering around the base somewhere, but the
clones currently holding the fortress are raw clones with little
intellect, and without a leader, an attempt to flush the remaining
members of the task force out would be disasterous."
Tseng paused briefly and studied his superior for a reaction. He
recieved none.
"Furthermore, they managed to somehow rescue Unright from the fortress.
The effects of the compliance drug on Unright - and, more importantly,
Edwyn - are rapidly wearing off, and all of the drug was back at the
main lab, which was heavily damaged during the fight. On the plus side,
we managed to capture Josh during the battle, and Rude is using him as a
guinea pig for the new... 'treatment' as we speak." Tseng turned over a
page. "As you know, Jason and Kim Wild chased Mr. X up to the helipad on
the roof before killing him. The man we had stationed on the roof saw
them, but had been ordered not to interfere. After X was killed, he
attempted to take out the pair, but they escaped via teleportation."
"What about Relm?"
"She was... ah... killed in the battle. Murdered, actually, by Mr. X.
Our
man on the roof was going to retrieve her body for further study, but
the
body had been resting on a skylight, which shattered as he stepped on
it.
He managed to escape, but the body was dropped into a room full of
starved
Umaro clones. I'm afraid it can be considered permanently lost."
"Did 'our man on the roof' do ANYTHING useful during the incident?"
"Actually, he did, sir. He managed to retrieve your father's sword."
Tseng
indicated the cloth-wrapped black sword sitting on his superior's desk.
"Furthermore..." Tseng continued, "Earlier today, Dave the Gunslinger
managed to gain access to the advanced clones' room. The advanced
clones,
I'm sure you know, are much more sophisticated then your average clone.
Clones such as the fake FuSoYa we have running the show on the moon,
sabotaging the Lunarian defenses from within."
"Had."
Tseng blinked. "I beg your pardon, sir?"
"The clone we HAD on the moon."
"..."
"Just minutes ago, I recieved a report stating that FuEySoYa had been
eliminated several days ago, by a DoR ally named Craxton, who
subsequently broke out of the Palace, blew a huge hole in the siege
line, and escaped across the Lunar terrain. His transport crashed and
he was believed dead, but a subsequent search revealed no bodies in or
around the crash site."
"How did he manage to get past our KeWlD00d forces?"
"We don't know. But if he did, and is still alive, he would pose a
serious threat to our operations. I've alerted our forces on the moon
to keep an eye out for him, but if he somehow gets back here, the Turks
will probably be called on to deal with him." he paused. "Just so you
know. Continue, Tseng."
"Ah, yes. Well, Dave, believing the advanced clones to be genuine
AGFFers, released them. Then, somehow, the emergancy transport system
was engaged."
"The one connecting to alt.flame?"
"Yes, sir. Unfortunately, it's not used to handling so many people.
Dave landed on alt.flame, along with advanced clones of Eyeglazer and
Celes Chere. The rest of the advanced clones were scattered around the
Usenet." Tseng closed the folder. "Frankly, sir, the situation is a
mess."
"I see." Tseng's superior leaned back in his chair, steepling his
fingers
in that way that his father, and in fact all evil geniuses, used while
thinking. "You're dismissed, Tseng. Leave your report on my desk and
tell
your Turks to await further orders."
Tseng nodded and left, wiping the nervous sweat from his brow as soon as
the door closed behind him. He went down to the cafeteria, which was, as
corporate cafeterias go, quite well-stocked. The mainstays were the
fast-food type dishes- pizzas, burgers, nachos, and so on, that were
available in most any cafeteria. However, they also kept more expensive
dishes, such as various Italian, Mexican, and Chinese entrees that were
changed daily. Tseng himself liked the hot dogs best, but hot dogs
looked
pedestrian and unprofessional. He only bought one when he had had such a
bad day that he didn't much care about looking professional on his
break.
He bought two hot dogs today.
The Turks had their own table, by the windows. It wasn't specifically
reserved for them, but the sight of a Turk with his arms crossed and a
menacing look on his face was enough to convince most people to find
some other table.
Reno and Elena were already at the table when Tseng walked in. Reno, who
had never cared much about looking professional on his breaks, had some
nachos, a burger, and two cups of hot Kupo nut coffee, a favorite in the
cafeteria, and the sole reason the corporation typically left Moogle
villages alone. Elena, ever the model Turk, was eating the Chinese dish
of the day and working on some paperwork.
"Sheesh, give it up, will you, Elena? It's break time."
"There is no break for the Turks, Reno. You know that."
Reno sighed. "There you go again. Do you have to always make the best
possible effort to ruin my fun? This is just like Wutai..."
"Don't start, Reno." Elena countered angrily. "Because of your...
lethargic attitude, I got captured by the biggest pervert in the
history of..."
"Hey, I saved you, too, didn't I?"
"Not the point, Reno. And you know it."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever."
Elena went back to her paperwork. A few seconds later, she looked up to
see Reno mixing clear liquid from a vial into one of the coffee cups.
"Reno, what are you doing?"
Reno grinned mischeivously. "Well, think back a few years, Elena. To
the day after your first mission in the field. You remember it?"
Elena did indeed. She sighed. "Reno, this is very unprofessional. Do
you think..."
"What is unprofessional, Elena?" Tseng walked up to the table and sat
down. Elena smiled slightly, then hid it. Professionalism first. She
was about to ask him how the presentation had gone, then saw the hot
dogs and decided against it.
"Well, boss," said Reno. "The new guy's dining with us today, and,
well..." he grinned even more evilly. Tseng sighed. "Elena's right,
this is unprofessional."
"Oh, come on, you two. We've done this to all the new recruits as far
back as I can remember. Hell, I think someone did it to ME, when I
first joined. I figure it's sort of like an... initiation rite." Tseng
tried to reprimand him, but his heart wasn't in it. "I fail to see
what you find so amusing about a newbie splattering his lunch all over
the cafeteria floor, Reno."
"Well, the Turks have to be prepared for any eventuality, right?" Elena
slammed down her pen in disgust. "That's bull, Reno! You're just out
to..."
"Calm down, Elena." Tseng cut off her rant. "Let him have his fun."
A few minutes later, the new Turk walked up, carrying a tray with the
pasta special on it. Reno welcomed him warmly. "Daron! Glad you could
join us! Have a seat."
"Thanks, Reno." Daron sat down. Reno passed him the tainted cup. "Here
you go, pal. Coffee's on me today!"
"Thanks." He held the cup under his nose and inhaled sharply. "Mmmm.
Nothing like the smell of warm coffee after a tough mission." He looked
around. "Nice place, here, you know. Very..." Before he finished, his
eyes locked on something across the lunchroom. "Hello! Look at the set
of knockers on her!" Elena sighed disgustedly, but then something caught
her eye. As Reno turned to admire the well-endowed woman across the way,
Daron quickly, silently, switched his cup with Reno's.
"Oh, yeah." said Reno. Then he turned back to Daron and flashed him a
grin. "Think she'd go for a man in a Turk uniform?"
Daron shrugged. "Never can tell."
Reno, grinning lecherously, took a large sip of his coffee. Then he
noticed something. Elena, across the table, was laughing to herself
and making great efforts to hide it. Reno looked to Daron, who
finished a long, confident swig of his coffee, then turned to Reno
with an evil grin on his face. Reno looked at Tseng. He calmly munched
on his hot dogs, but he was also smirking slightly. A sense of dread
came over Reno. "He didn't..." At this Elena started openly laughing
her ass off. Daron grinned even more evilly and took another sip of
his coffee. Even Tseng was chuckling silently by now. "Oh, shit!" Reno
leapt up from his seat and bolted for the restrooms.
Daron LeCyrwey smiled at his compatriots. "Eye has not seen, Ear has not
heard, but the nose knows." he tapped the side of his nose. "This nose
can smell a toxin a mile away."
Elena giggled and sputtered to a stop. "He... is going to hate you for
that, Daron."
Daron shrugged. "Won't be the first time someone's had a grudge against
me."
There was silence before Tseng spoke again. "You HAVE picked up your
official uniform, haven't you?"
"Yeah, I did."
"Well, then, why are you still wearing that?" he said, gesturing at
Daron's scruffy attire.
"Uniforms... aren't my style." Neither, he thought, was this entire
organization, though of course he didn't say that.
======
In contrast to the first two, the secret treasure room was rather
sparse. Apparently it was made to protect a select few things. Upon
entering, Bahamut went over to a corner of the room, to get something.
Craxton looked around, noticing various artifacts placed about the
chamber with the utmost care, none of which he recognized. Well, there
was one thing he recognized. A painting. Well, he didn't recognize the
painting, as such, but he did recognize the subject. Two swords,
crossed,
against a gleaming, silvery background. The sword on the right he didn't
recognize, but it was black as night, and very strange in its design. It
made him think of pure evil. The one on the left he recognized quite
well.
It was the Crystal KnightSword.
"Ah, yes, the Swords of Darkness and Light."
Craxton jumped. Bahamut was back in his natural form, and he had somehow
managed to sneak up behind Craxton as he studied the painting. As
Craxton
whirled around to face him, he pulled his sword out. He then relaxed.
"Don't sneak up on me like that, gramps!"
Bahamut half-grinned. "Gramps? Is that any way to talk to the King of
Dragons, Espers, and Micellaneous Magical Creatures?" Craxton was about
to respond, but Bahamut immediately became serious again. "You have the
Sword of Light, I see. Good. You must obtain the Sword of Darkness, as
well. Not just yet, but soon. Very soon."
"Where is the Sword of Darkness?"
"I'm not sure. Mr.X had it, but when he died it fell into the hands of
someone else. Possibly one of your compatriots, or maybe a Turk. If the
latter, it will probably wind up with X's son eventually." He waved a
paw dismissively. "As I said, it's not important. Yet. But keep an eye
open."
The great Dragon held out his other paw. Within it was a small orb of
glass- a crystal ball?
"This is one thing I wanted to show you. Gaze into it."
Craxton did so, and saw...
A wondrous sight indeed.
He saw a world in a state of pure nature. Forests full of trees, grassy
plains saturated with life, streams, rivers, swamps, deserts... it was
beautiful. It felt almost real, like he was flying above it. The
landscape scrolled past him at a slow pace, giving him time enough
to take in the beauty. Then he saw a structure on the plains. The
vision seemed to zoom in on the structure as he saw it. He saw it
was the remains of a town, now long gone. Not destroyed, he sensed,
merely... abandoned and decayed out of existance. It seemed
disturbingly familiar. The vision left the ruins, and climbed higher,
zooming off to the north. He spotted, on a high hill not far away, a
house, still quite intact. The vision moved closer to the house, then
closer still. He heard the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard. The
vision moved closer, and he could make out a figure at the keys, it
moved closer still...
and then abruptly ended.
Back in the treasure room, Craxton blinked. "What was that?"
Bahamut smiled. "That was the new world. The New AGFF. The world that
you shall usher in."
Craxton reeled with the new information. "Me?"
Bahamut nodded. "That, too, was prophesied. Your name wasn't mentioned,
but those who knew the prophecy - they have known it was you since you
came here bearing the Crystal KnightSword. Some of them left
immediately,
not wanting to get in the way of what would come. Others stayed behind,
to help in the conflict to come - or try to prevent it." He smiled.
"Those last were foolish, you know. To think they could thwart prophecy.
Destiny is like that - no matter what, it always gets you in the end."
There was an uneasy silence. Finally, Craxton spoke. "This... new
world... when it comes, what will happen to the old one?"
Bahamut simply smiled. "You will understand. Eventually." He moved off
to
the farthest corner of the room. "Come. There is one more thing you must
see."
Bahamut arrived at a group of pedastals, and stopped so that he
completely
blocked Craxton's view of them with his large body. He fiddled with the
lock on one of the pedastals while speaking. "Tell me, Craxton, do you
know how AGFF started?"
"No."
"Hmmm. Well, neither do I, exactly. But there's an old saying... 'In the
beginning, there was SPAM. And lots of cross-posts.'" He chuckled. "A
fine saying, but not entirely true. There was one other thing. Several
things, actually, all different. But all the same. So you could say that
they were all the same thing, relatively speaking."
"..."
"They had existed for years, but only recently were powerful enough to
catalyse the creation of AGFF. I'm sure you're familiar with them. Ah,
here we go..." The lock released, and the pedastal Bahamut had been
fiddling with opened. Bahamut stepped to the side. "This was the first
of them. Observe. I'm sure you'll recognize it."
Craxton approached the pedastal, and inhaled sharply. He did indeed
recognize it. He thought it couldn't be real, must be a facsimile, but
he picked it up, and saw it was indeed real, or at least close enough.
It was a very small, grayish device, small enough to fit in his hand,
resembling a rectangular box. It had, on the front, a label of sorts.
On the label was a picture of a glass sphere with a castle inside. And
above that, a sword and an axe, crossed.
And above that, two words: "Final Fantasy."
(Click To Enlarge)
He turned to Bahamut, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. The great
dragon smiled at him. "You begin to understand." Craxton cast his glance
around the pedastals, and saw all of them... the Japanese ones, the
retranslated copies, the spinoffs like Chrono Trigger, all of them.
Bahamut nodded. "Yes, the games. They were the cause, the root and
substance, that created AGFF. They were what supported and underlied
the newsgroup. They were there at the beginning of all beginnings, and
they shall be there until the final end. There may be flames, there may
be divergences, there may be gratuitous off-topic, but it has always
been about the games. The source of everything on AGFF, is the games."
Bahamut looked at a clock hanging above the far wall. "Damn." he said,
reverting to human form. "There's much more I'd like to tell you," he
told Craxton, taking the game pak from him and returning it to the
pedastal. "But there's no time. You wanted to use the Worldgate, and
so you shall. But it may not take you where you expect. It will,
however, take you where you are needed."
======
FuSoYa sat in the darkness of the wretched dungeon, contemplating his
imprisonment and wondering how on Luna he was going to get out of
here. And what had happened to Relm.
Suddenly the door creaked open. FuSoYa slank into the darkness,
wondering
what was about to happen. The door never opened. They pushed his meals
in
through the slot at the base of the door.
He was still hidden in the darkness when Spork, the Spoony Bard, was
pushed roughly inside by a burly guard. The door closed quickly. Spoony
had collapsed on the floor. He was beaten badly, very badly. FuSoYa
moved
toward his old comrade. Spoony became aware of his presence and looked
up. FuSoYa half-smiled back down at him. "So they caught you, too,
friend."
======
Craxton entered the Worldgate, and was warped away to where he was
needed. Bahamut, back in natural form, sighed heavily. 'I wish I could
have gone with you, grandson. I wish I could do more than just watch.'
He thought to himself. 'Alas, I am too old. It's all I can do to answer
my summonings, as it is. If only... Bah! This is doing nothing but
depressing me. I knew this was coming, didn't I? The death of the Last
Innocent merely confirms things.'
He paused briefly in thought. 'If only I could do more...'
He turned to one of the guards. "Sharden!"
"My lord?" the guard answered.
"Start packing up your things. We're moving house."
The guard was confused. "My lord?"
Bahamut looked at him. "Are you familiar with the Mysidian prophecy?"
The guard nodded. "One to be born..."
"No, no, no..." Bahamut shook his head. "That's just the final stanza.
Are you familiar with the whole prophecy?"
The guard shook his head. Bahamut sighed. "Well, start packing. Tell
the others to, as well."
"Why, my lord? If I may ask..."
Bahamut, on his way out of the room, stopped and turned. "The
Armageddon is coming. And I don't want to be around here when
it hits."