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Rebirth ~ The Price of Eternity [A Fan Restoration Project]

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Danko Kaji:
Chapter 3
Tentative Title:
Of Star-Crossed Lovers
---
(A/N): Whee! I had so much fun rewriting this. Definitely my favorite chapter by far. <3 Also, I decided to play around with Kush having a French accent to replace her habit of 'vous,' along with some painfully polite terms that'd make Seymour or Baralai proud. XD Joking aside, I hope this is adequate.

*
“There’s something on the roof!”
   
They were cuddling on the mattress of their designated room when the man let his woman separate from him. Sitting up, they held their breath, keeping their ears wide open for the suspicious sound, and soon enough, it echoed above them from within the air duct, a dull sound that reverberated throughout their walls at a consistent rhythm like a hard object hitting metal.
   
GONG, GONG, GONG…
   
“What is it?” Kush said in a whisper.
   
“A bird,” Valm said after a long, tense moment of silence. “A sea gull, judging from the strength of its knocks.”
   
Kush reclined back on the cushions when his answer reassured her, expressing her wish to laze around some more, but Valm rose to reattach his light armor. She watched him adjust the leather pieces over his chest, admiring the smooth movement of his muscles, and smiled. “And how does my lord know that sound came from a gull?”

“Only birds and monkeys can reach the top of these cliff faces. It must be a very large animal, going from the loud volume of its strikes. Between a monkey with a sharp tool and a bird with a strong beak, it’s more than likely the latter. You see, there are no monkeys here, only gulls.”
   
“My lord is correct.” She gave him a pretty smile, pleased by his informative answer. “What does my lord think it desires?”
   
He chuckled, fastening the straps nice and tight. “Maybe you should ask it.”

Shifting to lie on her side, she giggled. “My lord is correct yet again.”

Her coquettish lilt tickled his ears pink, and Valm smiled in spite of himself. Hard to believe this sheltered young lady held the weight of her government’s expectations on her small shoulders. Kush had been chosen to undertake a Summoner’s course since early childhood; a Bevellian citizen born and raised, she came to this distant island from an industrial haven, the only place she had ever seen outside the Citadel. It came as no surprise why she took every one of Valm’s opinions to heart.

When they first met three years ago, he thought she enjoyed mocking him. He despised her in silence, recognizing his duty to protect someone that he considered to be utterly insufferable, a spoiled brat who wore the face of a noblewoman. Once enlightened about her personal history, sympathy sought to melt his cold heart and, to his amazement, his affection for her transformed into love. Never in his life, before Kush, would Valm ever thought that he’d fall for a Summoner.

These people were sensitive to a common phenomena called pyreflies, or spirits of the deceased. Valm used to imagine them as ominous, eccentric people who practiced necromancy and were obsessed with death, but after he learned that Kush, along with all of her comrades, felt the same kind of emotions as normal people, she and Valm were not so very different from each other at all. In spite of that misconstrued truth, the authorities had gathered people gifted with this talent, creating an elite corps of Summoners subject to strict regulations.

None of them were volunteers; Summoners, or those proficient in the rare craft, were not in the position to refuse their calling. Kush and her fellow Summoners had been forced to sacrifice themselves for the sake of their government; in exchange for their compliance, they were guaranteed the safety of their closest family, up to twenty-five years after the death of the Summoner.

Although Kush spoke in a formal and polite, if not foreign dialect, always dressed to the nines in her extravagant silk gowns, embroidered shawls, and fine jewelry, she came from a poor family, which gave Valm another reason to connect with her, originally from a similar poor background himself. He never left the island for broader lands, but his oath to remain had rescued others such as himself from poverty.

Recalling why he stood up in the first place, Valm sighed, annoyed. “I shall head downstairs first. The Bedohl,” he spat out the word in disdain, “must have had enough waiting for me.”
   
“Could we not see each other without them next time?” She pulled herself up with a pout, leaning over pale, slender legs drawn up to her modest chest and naked except for the sheer blanket wrapped around her petite frame.
   
“Why? Do they annoy you?”

“Not at all.” She smiled, dismissive. “I just want one time where I can meet with my lord, just the two of us.”
   
“And who will carry your palanquin? Me, all by myself?”
   
She laughed, cradling her head in the crook of her elbow. “I can walk as well as my beloved lord Valm. No, even better.”

“Probably.” He smiled, humoring her. “But venomous insects dispatched by the enemy are known to roam the region, worse are vastly increasing in population." And then his smile dropped, making way for a grave frown. "I fear that…”
   
“Are their bites dangerous?” Her smile wavered, frightened by his tone.

“Infernal.”

“Oh, you!” His blunt remark inspired her to explode into broad smiles. “Hell does not appeal to me at all!”

His grim demeanor broke under the spell of her melodic laughter, and he grinned.

Valm knew of the ‘Hell’ his lover made light of. His grandmother used to invent these wild and crazy stories during nights he refused to sleep, since she loved frightening him as a child with grim fairy tales -- such as this horrible place of endless throes where those who dared to defy the Gods were Sent, dead or alive. He who wanted to avoid this kind of unforgiving fate must obey the will of the Gods his whole life. Bria believed that after death, he would be reborn in the form of a flower that only blossomed in the nether world, as per his eternal reward for his faith and loyal servitude. Hell or flowers, Valm always considered those two ends as equal in weight, if not consequence, but his grandmother hoarded a treasure of anecdotes to justify every rule imaginable, making it impossible to argue with her.

He had been very young, then, always hanging on her every word, but once he grew to become a man, he understood -- she devoted herself entirely to obeying the authorities, a choice she had no say in the matter. If you wanted to survive in this world, you must obey the government who made themselves out to be virtual Gods in this tangible world.

Kush’s lilting voice anchored him to the present. “Is it not possible to avoid these insects without resorting to the Bedohls?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, crossing his arms. “That is, I could always carry you when crossing dangerous areas.”

She clapped her hands together. “That would be wonderful!”

“Good. Now, dress up.”

Valm headed for the spiral staircase now, intending to go down and speak with the Bedohls. Just before he placed his foot down on the first step, he stopped to glance over his shoulder, stealing one last look at his beautiful, mystifying lover. Kush stood up from bed, wandering to the partial opening of the window they had boarded up for safety to gaze outside. Her petite body resembled that of the Goddess Luchera save for her hips, which were rounder, and Valm almost wondered why she adorned no wings to express the angelic innocence she carried within. The delicate item she threw over herself had slipped, revealing the unique birthmark ornamenting her lower back on the right side; an adorable silhouette of a heart.

Birthmark, scar, or tattoo, he did not know, but he did know one thing: Valm’s the only man alive who laid eyes upon that mark.

Kush’s sudden, urgent whisper awakened him from his thoughts. “There’s someone at the water’s edge!”

He rushed to her side, wrapping his arm around her tense shoulders. The moonlight allowed them to make out the solid details of the landscape; a cove surrounded by shallow water and tall buildings painted in resplendent orange, which towered upon the rock cliffs covered in lush greenery. "...Where?"

“Over yonder, on the pontoon.”

A mysterious, young man stood beside a shabby boat, which rocked with the steady, calm influx of waves.

‘A refugee,’ Valm thought. ‘But why sneak inside the island? Doesn’t he know this is an active war zone? It’s suicide.’

Without taking his eyes off him, Valm urged Kush to finish clothing herself. He lifted his forefinger and thumb to his mouth, about to whistle for the Bedohl, but held his breath. The man’s body language seemed nervous as he unloaded a bag from the boat. After a moment of struggling to untie it, he unearthed a round object.

‘A ball?’ He dropped his arm, confused.

This unknown person turned in direction of their tower and raised his eyes to Heaven.

Valm clenched his teeth, furious. ‘This is a ruse! He knows that I’m watching him! Damn him!’

Snatching Kush by the waist, he shoved her away from the window, and their bodies slammed against the pillar located in the middle of the room. As Valm proceeded to drag her down the stairs, the device exploded behind them, which caused him to lose balance. He clutched her head to his chest by instinct right before his back hit the railing going down. Releasing a whine of pain, Valm felt himself falling, and acted fast to squeeze her tight. Once his head bounced against an indiscernible, hard surface, he fought to keep himself from fainting, inhaling the unmistakable smell of gunpowder. He knew he couldn’t avoid it, but the moment he regained consciousness, he would go find that damn murderer and kill him.

He refused to let this territory fall into the hands of that heretic sage.

Danko Kaji:
Chapter 4
Tentative Title:
Of Origins Long Forgotten
(Or The History of the Al Bhed)
---
(A/N): Apparently Tidus isn't the only one being bashed by Nojima.  ::) There's very little love for Brother in here, so I decided to lighten up on the hate. XD Oh, and the radio that Shinra (and Bria) mentioned is apparently meant to be the Commsphere, so I fixed that detail as well (I shall return to Chapter 2 to do the same).

*
The Celsius sailed through the air in slow velocity; it couldn’t fly any slower without the risk of stalling or worse, crashing. Paine sighed, stuck inside the ****pit listening to everybody’s high-speed conversation. Shinra, the only other one disengaged, sat at his post in front of the monitor, his back turned towards them while immersed in his task. Maybe typing essential calculations for their flight or killing his time with a puzzle, she couldn’t tell. Behind his goggles and full facial mask, nobody could read his expression.
   
“Is the storm approaching in this direction?” Paine said, exploiting their pause in conversation to speak. Buddy, Brother, and Rikku, the three adult Al Bhed who chose to communicate in their native tongue, spoke too fast for Paine to follow. In spite of her decent fluency for the language, she found it almost impossible to understand their belligerent bickering from the actual discussion.

Rikku kept a close watch on the radar. “A huge downpour is heading south where Besaid is. It’s definitely going to blow hard.”
   
“We must inform them at once!” Brother said.
   
“The Commsphere doesn’t work,” Shinra said in a detached tone. “Even though I made sure to replace the last one that broke not too long ago, I’m not receiving any video or audio feedback.” Brother screeched his dissent, but the boy genius contented himself with a shrug. “It’s actually working less and less as time goes by, and it’s not only in Besaid. It’s Kilika as well. I wonder if it’s just in this region, because of the storm.”

Buddy folded his arms, ducking his head in concern. “Why?”
   
“I don’t know. I’m just a kid.”
   
As annoying as the boy could be at times, nobody here knew machines better than him. Paine held him in high regard due to his unparalleled skills. Sure, Gippal knew how to fix them faster and better than anyone back in Djose, as evidenced by repairing Shinra’s rogue communicator which broke in the Farplane, but Shinra’s intelligence far outstripped each and every Machine Faction member combined. Definitely smarter than Brother by a long shot, whose only special talent consisted of venting the most obnoxious rants she had the misfortune of enduring. Paine had no idea what their leader prattled on about, but his constant shouts and wild gestures were already getting on her nerves.

“In this case…” She decided to speak up, yet nobody heard her. Impatient, she snapped. “Shut up!”
   
Brother froze in place, stuck at a ridiculous pose as he jerked his head in her direction, scowling. “...Yes?”
   
“Shouldn’t we hurry back to Besaid before the storm hits? You’ve seen the village, right? Their homes are made of hessian. We have to warn them about this.”
   
Rikku acquiesced without complaint. “If the wind takes their tents, they will lose everything.”
   
Brother looked about ready to cry, collapsing straight into his pilot’s seat where only loud sobs could be heard. Even though they had departed from Besaid like thieves in the night, flying away at top speed, they had nowhere else to go, yet Buddy had made the call in consideration of his friend’s obvious distress. He preferred to keep the heartbroken Brother away from the reunited lovebirds as far as possible. At any rate, the Gullwings continued their discussion without pause, because Brother’s pity party warranted that much little respect from them. How could they when he made it so difficult to be taken seriously?

Paine put a hand to her chin, deep in thought. “But then again, it’s just a storm. I’m sure the inhabitants have survived worse.”
   
“You think so?” Rikku said, skeptical. “Hmm, according to the radar… Oh! It went off! What’s happening? Is the engine overheating?”
   
Shinra twisted around to lean over the top of his seat, shaking his head. “This girl’s have had the last of her days. It's the end of the road for her. A sudden breakdown isn't out of the question, considering it’s supposed to be a millenary device.”
   
“Then, can’t you just build a new one? It’s all right here. You can learn what makes this thing tick and make another one,” Paine said.
   
“Let me think…” Shinra settled back down into his seat, leaning over his custom-made keyboard in rapt thought. “Hmm… I don’t see why not. After all, it’s true that the Al Bhed are comfortable working on machines, but we only know how to use them. Of course, in order to exhume them, discern their functions, recondition them, and understand how to operate them, we had developed an extensive knowledge and skillful dexterity for them. But oddly enough, we still cannot build new ones. Sometimes, I wonder why that is. Don’t you find it kind of strange? I mean, even though Yevon loathed them, people still contributed to their use, yet none of us ever thought to retain a single plan to build machines from the ground up. We might have been able to rediscover new rules and theories of calculations, but only out of a sense of necessity. Our ancestors have left us with nothing, or maybe they were unable to leave anything behind.”
   
Overwhelmed by the scope of his words, Shinra sighed. “Why? Well, I’m afraid that’s the greatest mystery of all.”

Danko Kaji:
Chapter 5
Tentative Title:
Of Lost Love Found
---
(A/N): Oops, I got the order of the chapters all wrong. Because of the way I outlined my version, I combined chapters 5 and 8 together into a Chapter 2 (a lot of the other short scenes, I put them aside as Interludes). So, yeah. Here's the official chapter five. My bad, guys.

Also, the setting details for this boat really confused me. Like, was there really a random ball sitting around until it dropped, rolling to the stairs, or was that the description of the trident/hatch/mechanism/thingy, I don't know. I'm just working with what I got. XD

*
Tidus decided to wander in the Aurochs Ace to explore the boat and kill his boredom. He imagined the old combustion engine in charge of transporting the team from coast to training area, even without the wind, a powerful machine necessary to see the job through. On the deck, near the stern, he found a hatch, which revealed the glaring engine in question. A ladder allowed him to reach it, but he didn’t feel motivated to check it out right now, having no real interest or knowledge for mechanical things in general.
   
Near the bow rose a little hut that took up two thirds of the deck’s space. This narrow area housed the rudder wheel and a console with the buttons and sticks that controlled the engine. There must be a radio somewhere, Tidus mused, surveying his surroundings some more. ‘Would they even have a radio? Did someone even invent it, yet?’

He took a closer look at the trident situated against the wall; pulling it down, Tidus watched as the knob he gripped dropped down, swerving in direction of the hut, stopping close to the partition facing the rudder, bringing to his attention a flight of stairs, which led down below deck. Descending into the cabin, Tidus crossed the door to enter a furnished cubby hole comprised of a double sofa, a bed, and a little table. Both of the walls behind the sofa and bed had a round porthole that oversaw the waterline, allowing people to enjoy the landscape. The moonlight filtered inside, illuminating the entire cabin and its modest, cozy furniture.

Tidus plopped down on the bed, falling back to fold his arms behind his head to heave a sigh. The Ace might not be in its prime anymore, but this room still adorned a state of consciousness. Apart from the handwoven Besaidian fabric covering the walls, decorations worthy of a hotel in the capital ornamented the ceiling; although the exact level of comfort intended kind of confused him. The boat could transport a total of ten maximum, but this cabin could only shelter seven of them -- if they closed up. But even then, in order to enjoy it on a decent level of relaxation, two people the most could exploit it.
   
Tidus sighed. He must be bored if he felt compelled to contemplate the mysteries of this boat, a piece of man-made heaven for an underdog team of champions. Closing his eyes, he dozed. Many questions filled his mind, making it difficult for him to drift off completely, for example…

‘What?’

He awoke with a start, nauseated by a sudden falling sensation that made him stumble forward on his feet and almost retch. At some point, the boat started to oscillate from top to bottom courtesy of the swell. Even the wind picked up, worsening the violent motions.

“Did I fall asleep?” Tidus wondered aloud. ‘How much time passed?’

He did not know, but moonlight no longer illuminated the cabin, making way for shadows to creep inside the darkness. Maybe clouds had rolled in to cover the sky and moon, and he rushed to gaze out into the porthole, only to realize he couldn’t see the coast anymore.

“You gotta be kidding me!”

Leaping over the table in his mad dash to the other side, Tidus pressed his nose right up against the other porthole; the darkness revealed nothing. It’s official: The Ace had left the cove. Unless proven otherwise, Tidus could have sworn it had been moored…

“Oh no, it can’t be…” ‘Was I set adrift?’

He stood straight, and immediately banged his head. Swearing in anger and pain, he started to feel his way to the exit, and found it where his forehead collided into the doorframe. Holding one hand over the brand new bump on his head, he grumbled on his way back to the upper deck, climbing the stairs one cautious step at a time. He stopped all of a sudden when he found someone standing at the helm.

A white hood hid her face-- he could tell it was a woman going by her petite frame-- wearing a dress ornamented with red patterns at the billowing hem, which reached as long as the back of her leather boots. Tidus picked up the scent of perfume in the wind, and it reminded him of Besaid Temple, its cloy incense.

“Yuna!” His voice **** in joy and disbelief. “Yuna…”

She turned around, lowering her hood as she did so, stepping forward to stand in front of him, hovering in concern. She brushed her gloved fingertips over his forehead, massaging the swelling bump. “Maybe I should have brought my staff, or a sphere even. I didn’t think you’d be hurt…”

“Don’t worry about it! It doesn’t hurt anymore.” He shook his head with such vigorous energy, Yuna burst out laughing.

“Sorry I kept you waiting.”

“It was terrible! I thought…” He felt the urge to cry, surprised by the waterfall of emotion rising in his throat.

She put a gentle finger to his lips, silencing his remark with a sad smile.

“In my case, I’ve waited two years.”

Tidus nodded, remorseful. A day of sadness and neglect couldn’t compare to two years of grief, and so he reined in on his complaint. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay.” She smiled, lowering her hand.

Tidus stared at her, still processing the fact that she stood before him, and he took a shy, tentative step forward, reaching out for her. “Yuna…”

And then she turned her back on him, cutting through the solemn air with forced enthusiasm. “Departure of the Aurochs’ Ace is a go! Commence the private cruise!” She announced with joy despite the shaky hand she used to activate the stick, and then after a quick, awkward pause: “Do you know the other name for this boat?”

“How am I supposed to know?” he said, sounding more curt than he wished to. He hadn’t expected her to rebuff him like that, and the rejection stung. ‘Does she not want me around anymore?’

“The Aurochs used to call it ‘The Buddies.’” She giggled at that, turning around to smile at him. “Tonight, I let them know that we embarked; just you and me.”

She looked so radiant, beaming at him, that he couldn’t stay mad at her anymore. But then she broke eye contact, bashful, looking like the ghost of her old self, shy and proper, and he felt the odd tickling from the thought that maybe he dazzled her, just as much as she did for him. They were finally alone, unsure of how to act around each other now. They hadn’t been alone since that night at Macalania Woods, in the water spring; with the cozy little cabin waiting down below, Tidus sensed his cheeks grow scorching hot.

“We’ve just left the port.” Her voice brought him back to the present, and he gulped, regathering his wits. “Do you mind if we row along the coast for a bit until we reach the other side of the island? The wind’s gotten stronger out of nowhere, and we need to find a good place to drop anchor…”

He shrugged. “If you want. I don’t care about the wind.”

Moving closer to Yuna, Tidus placed his left hand on the rudder wheel, directly over her own. His metal gauntlet clashing with her white glove. He felt her tense for a moment, and to his great relief she leaned back against him, allowing him to push the stick forward with his right palm. Underneath their feet, they sensed the vibrations of the engine as the noise heightened, and The Ace accelerated at a gentle speed.

“Do you know how to steer?”

Tidus threw her a wounded look. “What’re you talking about? I was practically born on a boat!”

After that boast, Tidus recalled all the times he spent on his father’s boat. His skills now were tuned enough to steer, but as he looked back and tried to remember everything he knew about navigation, his mind drew a startling blank. ‘How did I forget…? I used to know so much. Now I can’t think of anything.’

He couldn’t think straight, not with the scent of Yuna’s perfume mixing in with the strong, salty air. Yeah, that had to be it. She smelled so nice, and she felt so warm, it was enough to distract him.

“You wanna go down?” He pointed to the cabin, eager to lie down and cuddle with her.

“Shouldn’t we wait until we drop the anchor? It’ll be safer…”

He dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. “What’s a little wind gonna do? Blow us away into the sky? There’s nothing to worry about. C’mon, let’s go down.”

Danko Kaji:
Chapter 6
Tentative Title:
Of An Ancient War
---

(A/N): Re-reading through this chapter more times than I care to admit, I finally realized that there was this very annoying and awkward POV shift between Valm and a nameless Zanarkand soldier. I rectified it accordingly, but dang. Was it just me, or was I the only one who did not immediately register that they were two completely different people?

In other news, happy holidays!

*
Valm exhausted all the ammunition and grenades he had in hand, slaughtering several of the enemies which were encroaching upon them, oblivious to the dramatic shift in weather until he left the island. Forewarning signs, such as oppressive dark clouds and suffocating strong winds, always arrived before a storm, but blinded by the fear and excitement of battle, he had noticed nothing.
   
When people are in a constant struggle for survival, they never stop to think about the consequences, he reflected.
   
The rain fell so heavy, he found it difficult to see in front of him; the gusts were projecting sea spray into his face, stinging his eyes. The small, flimsy boat kept him afloat somehow, but it kept pitching violently, compromising his balance. Uttering a string of curses that would have made his mother faint, he attempted to re-gather his composure.
   
‘Calm down, calm down…’
   
He wanted to leave this dreadful place as soon as possible. ‘After all, I completed my mission.’
   
Valm spotted another target on top of the air tower, and he squinted, trying to distinguish the distant figure. The man seemed young and built, but... that couldn’t be Johit. He had dark hair, not flaming red… Maybe Meroh? It had to be. Valm recognized his Guards, along with someone else, probably a prospective Aeon Core. It must be a member of his family or a beloved one. The more links between a Summoner and their Aeon Core, the stronger the bond, the more powerful the entreated creature produced.
   
Valm hoped the bomb had killed the remainder of his enemies.
   
But then, he spotted a conspicuous lone figure, and his eyes widened. “No…”

(POV shift)

If he could eliminate the mage at least, that would be fortuitous, for he proved the most dangerous; the others present around him were easy to dismiss.

This war between the two major cities seemed to wage on forever, even though he had sworn to give his life to end it. Yes, he chose to sacrifice himself for peace. The blind devotee lowered his hands from his prayer, raising his eyes to the empyrean. The wind stung, whipping his body with volatile ferocity, bringing the salt from the chaotic sea to hinder his sight.

“The truth…”

He never stopped to consider the outcome of this war, only Yunalesca-- the Summoner Princess and how he would live by her side, to be her most loyal servant. He looked back on the sacred ceremony over the course of which he had taken an oath, and she graced him with a kiss. The sweet smell of her hands came to mind, and the memory appeased him.

(POV shift)

Valm crawled through the shallow water, spying the pious murderer who appeared to have finally calmed down. Only the upper half of his head protruded from the surface, his eyes glaring in the dark of nightfall. As he approached, he made out the face of his enemy. He still looked to be a teenager. Had the Sage brainwashed him, or did his sorceress daughter bewitch the poor fool with her seductive spell?

The young man turned around, as if sensing him by his bloodlust alone, and Valm leapt, landing inside the small boat. He grasped him by the black hairs of his head, wrenching him closer to knee him in the stomach. This caused the enemy to double over in pain, vomiting all over himself. Valm tossed him aside and stood above him, unsheathing his sabre. Dragging him up by the neck, he pierced his back where his heart would be, and the boy let out an inarticulate cry.

With his task complete, Valm attached little importance to the pyreflies of his victim, whose soul already began to vanish. He went about surveying the ship, rummaging for anything useful. The spoils of war, as one would say. No weapons were found aboard, but a small boat equipped with a working engine could turn out to be salvageable. He wanted to call out to his comrades, but then reconsidered it. Maybe a fire as a signal… No. None of these solutions were efficient, considering nobody would be able to hear or see anything in this terrible squall.

Shading his eyes from the rain, Valm turned in direction of the island’s peak, reciting the words of faith, finding comfort in their divine nature.

“O Luchera, Goddess of War! Grant us your blessing, and protect us with your outspread wings!”

~
Hidden underneath the ground, a man-made bunker built at the center of the island, the Board of War’s South Division lied isolated from outside noises. The majority of the stationed troops had gathered inside the stateroom. Silence prevailed the spacious room, only disrupted by the echo of stifled tears.

An altar decorated with multiple rows of tropical flowers distinguished itself at the center of the room. Kushu had just finished her Sending, and Sloan, the brother of the victim, still knelt before the woman, his shoulders heaving with sobs. She stepped closer to him, and place a hand on his broad back.

Anli, whose real name used to be Pohlan, lied dead on his wooden casket, but his beautiful, young face looked so peaceful that he appeared to be sleeping. The Summoner was still a teenager, but even so his soul had already departed for the world beyond.

Alb, the team leader, approached them, and spoke with a voice that belied his old age. “What happened to the man responsible, Sloan?”

“It was a young girl. I already eliminated her.”

“What about her soul? Do you think she’ll come back to exact her revenge?”

“If she comes back, fiend or Unsent, I’ll take her down!” He shrieks, his voice shrill with rage and grief. “I’ll cut her down again and again and again until she wishes she stayed dead!”

Alb opened his mouth, his eyebrows creased, but the sudden arrival of Valm, soaked from top to bottom and emanating a murderous aura, prevented him from speaking further. “What happened?”

Valm chose not to answer, staring at Anli’s corpse. After a long moment passed, he made his way over to Sloan and clasped his shoulder firmly.

“I will never forgive them…” Sloan swore, his voice cracking.

Valm agreed with a somber look that rivaled his grieving comrade.

“We’re short on people,” Sloan said, turning towards Alb, rising on one knee. “When will you be able to deploy the mechanical Bedohls?”

“We’re currently encountering multiple problems, but in the near future I expect very soon.”

“In the near future? You’re so vague! If you desire more guinea pigs, leave it to me.”

Alb sighed, folding his arms. “We already talked about this. Must I repeat myself? Aside from restricting the number of Bedohls, this entire thing is pointless. If you want to waste my time and waste the amount of Bedohls available to us, then go right ahead. But force will not solve anything.”

Sloan snickered. “You’re complaining to the wrong guy. You should say that to the heretic Sage!”

“Alb.” Valm spoke, intervening on their argument. “You appear to be having fun tinkering around with your Bedohls in the name of ‘research.’ But we’ve been eagerly anticipating the day when they’re finally going to be of actual use to us. We need reinforcements, fighters who will work as long as one of our enemies still live. We must protect the Summoners and their Aeon Cores at all costs. Forever.”

Every time someone mentioned the future, Kush always looked ready to cry, anguish flashing in her eyes.

Sloan turned back around to gaze upon his dead brother, raising his voice. “Let’s search the island, but we must proceed with caution. The enemies may still be upon us with more.”

Danko Kaji:
Chapter 7
Tentative Title:
Of An Incoming Storm
---

(A/N): This is as far as I got, as far as completed chapters go, but I'm close to finishing the next one. If I push myself, perhaps I can finish that one tonight and post it by tomorrow. I'll try my best to work on this every day, hopefully get this done before next semester of school starts. Wish me luck!

*
The Celsius finally reached Besaid, parking at the entrance of the cove.
   
As soon as Wakka boarded, desperate to meet with them, hoping they knew anything of Yuna and Tidus’s whereabouts, he walked straight into an argument. Not their usual wacky bickering, but something far more a cause for concern, echoing within the cockpit and bounding off the walls in rapid-fire Al Bhed.
   
Everyone with the exception of Barkeep and Calli were present, the official members of the Gullwings, but Wakka couldn’t make sense of anything they were saying. Even Rikku, who usually made the gracious effort of translating for her Yevonite friends, stood front and center.
   
“The fuselage may be damaged,” Paine said, sparing him from his own insanity.
   
“You can’t fly anymore?”
   
“No. We don’t know the exact cause, let alone how to repair it. Perhaps if we continued to Luca, we could have asked other Al Bhed, maybe some of Gippal’s guys, to help us, but…” She sighed. “Coming here was a mistake, and that’s what they’re arguing about. The conversation’s lowbrow, trust me.”
   
“Why’d you come back, then?”
   
“To let you know that a bad storm was coming.”
   
“If that’s the case, then why didn’t you use the Commsphere?”
   
Before Paine could answer, Shinra broke away from the group to speak in the common tongue. “The island’s Commsphere was already down. I meant to fix it, but someone here just couldn’t wait to leave.” He turned his head in Aniki’s direction. “And now, ours is in the same state."
   
“Ya could have said so sooner!” Wakka exclaimed, frustrated to the point of panic. “I came to use your Commsphere. Yuna’s disappeared!”
   
At this news, everyone fell silent.
   
Aniki glared at Wakka, mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. “Yuna? Missing?”
   
“Yes. She said she wanted to board a boat with Tidus-- ‘to catch up on lost time,’ she said. We thought they were on the other side of the island, but…”
   
Aniki screeched in distress, about read to tear his crazy mohawk out.

Rikku peered outside through one of their portholes, terrified by the state of the storm. “The sea looks scary destructive out there… I hope they’re alright…”

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