New Age Chapter 32, a Zoids fanfic by Sh33p

Hats off to this fic. It tops most fics I've read....including most of the ones I posted here. Tim Seltzer, seltzer@seltzerbooks.com

Foreword: I suggest downloading the song "Eternal" by Evanescence. Suits this chapter quite nicely.

"So," Pierce began, leaning rather nonchalantly against a safety rail, sunglasses resting in the right front pocket of her leather jacket. The bridge the two stood on was a walkway, arched over the busiest street in the entire city. Cars and trucks, even a Gustav or two - one of the only Zoids legal to drive around inside of a town or city - rushed by in both directions beneath them, and above them, the sky was beginning to become a bit cloudy, the first visible sign that it was going to rain the following evening.

"You wanted to talk to me about my dad?" She asked finally, leaning back a bit further on the railing. Her motorcycle, a large Harley-styled cruiser with the ruggedness of an AK-47, sat nearby, parked near the base of the walkway`s right side. Oscar Hameros stood a foot or three to the left, one hand on the railing, the other in one of the pockets of his overalls.

"Your father was probably one of the best aerial Zoid pilots I`ve ever met," Oscar began. "His death`s always bugged me a bit... A lot, in fact, especially after my own accident, and now that my own son`s gotten into flying," he continued with a brief sigh. Pierce quirked a brow up.

[The Storm Sworder was fast, the Raynos was faster. One overtook the other in a blur of green and silver at mach three, forming ribbons of exhaust over a mile and a half off the ground. Oscar ground his teeth together, swiftly dodging in a wide barrel roll over six streams of bullets from behind. The Raynos was agile, but the Storm Sworder was more so. Summers had allowed Hameros to overtake him for the sole purpose of dodging up overhead and coming down from above in the moment or two of confusion.]

["I can`t shake him!" Oscar finally yelled, resisting the forceful pull of the Wild Eagle at the back of his mind. He would not yield to it, not this time. Another hard roll out of the way, the Storm Sworder blazed by, it`s three melee blades aglow with a fierce orange burn to them, coming dangerously close to slicing the left wing right off of Oscar`s Zoid.

His prayers were answered shortly after as the Storm Sworder moved into a deft turnaround, swinging itself a full 180 degrees to turn back at the Raynos, moving on momentum alone with it`s main engines cut off. Again, it`s claws flipped down to reveal six machine guns primed to fire. Oscar was too panicked to fire back, thinking only to dodge and scoop straight down, moving into a downward loop-de-loop. But no bullets ever came this time.

"Badly," Oscar concluded after a long pause. Pierce shrugged indifferently, the death of her father had always struck her as a mere accident, she hadn`t really clung to it as much as her mother and sister had. "Well, I spent most of the past few years getting up the guts to try and talk to you, your mom or your sister about it, but I never could. I also spent the past few years looking over records of the battle, and the things that happened before it. Wasn`t an accident."

["WHAT THE HELL?!" Oscar screamed in horror, watching the Storm Sworder`s wings extend out, it`s engines igniting only to explode into three gigantic fireballs.

Michael Summers wouldn`t be ejecting though. He was dead by the time that Oscar had managed to cobble his senses together to start screaming.]

"Abbie and my mom already feel that way, you`d be better off telling them," Pierce stated coldly. "They think you, Tauros or Martin were responsible for it, have since the day it all happened. Even Mark`s parents think you three had something to do with it."

"Wasn`t us," Oscar shot back with a shake of the head. "I traced things out from the start to the end, back to a mafia-styled Zoid gang with a leader who had a thing for your mother. Your father apparently broke the guy`s nose in front of some fifty people, he never forgot it, and eventually rigged the aerial part of the match after gambling several million on me making a win. From there, things are hazy, but I eventually found the guy`s name out with some effort."

"Dexter Rommel. Late founder of the Rommel Corporation," he stated dryly. Pierce quirked a brow again.

"I don`t think it matters much that you told me," she stated. "Abbie and my mom practically disown me everytime they see me, Dad`s death his them pretty hard." A short pause followed, ended with a smile on Pierce`s part. "Hit them the hardest. Abbie was my father`s little 'junior mechanic,' always running around, trying to be helpful. Wound up with oil and grease smeared on her half the time. She did good though, followed Mom`s footsteps as far as wanting to be a mechanic went, at least until the accident."

"I was born to be a Zoid pilot. My dad and Mark`s parents all wanted to hit Class S, so did I. I got into battling and... Well..."

"Not me," a younger Pierce Summers muttered to herself rather dejectedly, prying open the cockpit hatch of her crashed Pteras and stumbling out dizzily.]

"I got my ass kicked. Then I found out that the Backdraft were hosting a pilot training program and made it into the Zabat test squadron," she explained. "My mom found out, she and Abbie disowned me on my nineteenth birthday. Haven`t had the guts to talk with Mom since, and Abbie refuses to speak to me without trying to make me quit, especially now that she knows about my former past with the Backdraft Group. Mark`s cooler about it, he and his parents are almost the only family I`ve got left but his mom and dad are having a bit of trouble speaking to me and staying on good terms with my Mom and Abbie so..."

"Your mother refuses to answer my calls, sends my letters back to me and threatened a restraining order when I tried to talk to her face-to-face. Your sister is on vacation and my conscience couldn`t handle the burden anymore," Oscar replied, continuing a second later. "Long as one of you knows, that`s a ton off my back," he finished.

"I can see your point," Pierce replied, straightening up a second later. "Been nice talkin` to ya, but I have a nowhere to get to and I don`t intend to be late," she stated. Oscar nodded. "And my wife`s probably worried sick about me since I left my medication at home."

"If you think you`re going to have an affair with m-" "No, no way," Oscar cut her off, blushing furiously. Quite a sight given how old he was. "I`m too terrified of Maria to do that, don`t you know how insane it is to cheat on a Garamian woman?" He asked. Pierce vacantly nodded. "What then?"

"I know a guy you might want to meet some time, Leon Tauros, if you`re interested."

"I prefer being single, but thanks anyway," Pierce replied, walking off and leaving Oscar alone.

The slightly overweight ex-pilot shrugged and sighed. "I tried, Steve," he mumbled to himself, having made a fairly futile attempt at hooking Tauros` son up with someone who actually seemed relatively similar to him. Not that Leon knew, or would ever agree to the two men trying to set him up with anyone or anything, but still, the boy needed a social life or he was going to burn himself out at thirty.

More than a bit solemnly, Jamie Hameros stepped into his room with a low toned yawn, kicking his shoes off and chucking his gloves off to the side. He had spent two days in his normal clothing and hadn`t slept more than four hours during that time. He`d only gotten home two hours earlier and now he was ready to sleep.

At least he hoped he was ready to sleep. In truth, he`d tried to sleep a lot during the past two days, but he couldn`t focus his thoughts enough on something other than the jumble of disoriented thoughts that had been plaguing him for the entire time, ever since Eliza - Leyla`s third and most sophisticated personality - had mentioned something about her being her father`s prize 'specimen.' It had been eating away at him, the revelations of three personalities, the shortlived relief that came with knowing he wasn`t infected with any diseases from all the trists the Wild Eagle had carried out, only to have that bit of relief go nightmarish at the perspective of Leyla being pregnant. Eliza had told him that all the tests were negative, but Jamie Hameros wasn`t exactly someone well known for his confidence in anyone, himself included.

He had also managed to figure out a very crude reasoning behind the names of the two secondary personalities - almost the same reasoning, he felt, that the Wild Eagle had used when coming up with Will E.. To put it simply: Connie was a conwoman, a confidence job professional, it seemed, while Eliza was sheer elegance, maturity and dignity personified. Leyla was just normal, aside from being one of the best Zoid pilots that Jamie had ever seen - at least going by simulators.

With the upcoming match, that was another thing that worried him. Was Leyla good enough to beat the current roster of the Blitz Team with Bit having gone missing-in-action? Or would she turn out to be like Jamie usually was - only good in simulators or at a distance from above? Would she trash Brad and Leena or would Leena and Brad trash her? And what about Jamie himself, where did his loyalties lie in the midst of all of this?

Jamie knew enough of his obscure alter ego to know that 'Will' happened to have some feeling for all of the others involved in the battle, he wouldn`t be so eager to join in otherwise, right?

It was all confusing, worrying and annoying at once, eventually ending with a simple gesture and an even simpler sentence.

"This. Fucking. Sucks," Jamie pointed out in the relative silence of his bedroom, having left the lights off when he had gotten in. A smack to his own forehead and one thump later, the teen had buried his face in between the two pillows on his bed and tried to will himself to sleep.

An hour later, Brad Hunter found himself sitting among familiar, welcome company at a place he`d often frequented during his years 'on the lamb,' so to speak. Few people knew of his dozen or so aliases anymore, among them was the woman presently sitting to his right. Her partner wasn`t present, Leon had always held a good deal of respect for the burgeoning relationship between the two, which made for an odd dynamic between the three of them.

Brad Hunter hadn`t been to the Last Chance Bar since his days as Bart Huntley, just prior to when he`d gotten into Zoid battling alongside another then-unknown rookie pilot by the name of Jack Sisco. Brad had been a fugitive at the time, waiting all of five years for the statute of limitations to run out for the assault and battery of an agent of the Guardian Force, not to mention the theft of a few dozen anti-Zoid rifles.

That was at least two years ago. Maybe it was three now, he`d never been particularly masterful at telling time when it came to anything longer than a month. Tonight though, he sat at the same old stool that had once been his nightly haven, though he was without the customary bottle of vodka he had once downed at least once a night. Beside him sat once Naomi Fluegel, who had apparently been finding her way into a lot of bars and diners lately, mainly since she absolutely hated cooking. Oh, she could cook great, but she hated it with a passion.

"I`m just out of my depth here," Brad finally admitted, resisting the urge to fall into one of his old habits and order the shot of vodka that would kick off the festivities of getting drunk. "Bit`s gone, Leena`s gone nuts again, the Doc is on the too much with Leyon and that Obscura woman to be of any real help and now Jamie`s making me paranoid. To boot, his subconcious is a homicidal lunatic," he added, obviously more than a little on edge.

"Sounds fun," Naomi stated sarcastically. Neither of the two were very emotional in how they looked, but then again, they expressed themselves more subtly most of the time anyway. "Where did Bit run off to?"

"That`s just it, I don`t know. The guy`s a loose cannon ever since we fought with Kale and my Zoid`s just..."

"Ever since I woke up in the cockpit after getting knocked out, I`ve felt a bit uneasy about it. Lately, it`s just been getting worse... And to top things off..." A sigh and a pause. Naomi would`ve asked, but Brad continued before she had the chance. "I heard a voice telling me to avoid using it outside of battles. I`m almost ready to rip the thing apart to see if there`s something actually wrong with it..."

"It`s a machine, Brad. It doesn`t have feelings, it doesn`t want you dead and it can`t go against what you tell it to do," Naomi said with a roll of her eyes. Brad frowned. "That`s exactly what worries me. The Liger seems alive, same with how the Shadow Fox used to be, and Leon`s Liger seems alive too, but the Scout Fox... Just..."

"No. Something just feels wrong with it. My gut instinct isn`t ever wrong that often, and right now it`s screaming at me to get rid of the thing."

"It`s a top-of-the-line military Zoid, Brad. It hasn`t even been broken in very much and the model isn`t even mass produced yet, give it some time and things will pan out."

Brad leered sideways to her, but Naomi`s expression was solid, subtly confident and reassuring all at once. He finally gave a nod and sighed out. "You`re right. As usual," he finally ceded, though he never spoke the thoughts to follow.

Thunder struck out in the distance. The terrain was familiar, the same tracks of land surrounding any one of the dozen or so cities, villages and hometowns that dotted the way from Farentown to the Wind Colony. It wasn`t farmland, just flat desert as far as the eye could see.

The normal eye, anyway. For Bit Cloud on the other hand, he could see right through the distance even in the rain in the dead of night. Water beat down across the swaggering form of the Liger Zero, which was keeping at a steady walk rather than a full run. For some reason, Zeke wanted to take his time this go-round. He wouldn`t say why, Bit had asked him repeatedly, but it didn`t really matter.

"Well excuse me, mister 'LEAVE THE GOD DAMNED RADIO OFF OR I`LL EJECT YOU INTO A LIGHTNING BOLT!'" Bit retorted with a snort.

And with that, the Liger`s radio kicked on, automatically switching to what at first sounded like a symphony, but then took on several guitars. Combined with the sound of the rain and the infrequent burst of thunder, it was enough to lull almost anyone to sleep. The bursts of lightning negated it a bit, but then, Zeke leaned the seat back in a similar way to how the Jaeger system altered the cockpit.

"Much better," Bit commented, tossing his arms behind his head. "`Bout time you got the 'comfort' thing down, buddy," he added.

"You`re just jealous of the fact that I can actually walk on two feet. You quadrapedic punk ass," Bit fired back.

Shortly thereafter, a mutual snicker was shared. The whole thing had been one long joke.

In the ruins of what had been an archaeological dig, two lone figures stood. There was no debris nearby, the Gojulas-H, the two Command Wolves and the Gustav had all just... Wandered off. The Republican crew was completely out of it, at least one had sustained a completely imploded rib cage, two others had been electrocuted at once, the others were all a bit bloody but just unconcious. The remaining equipment had obviously been destroyed, but that aside, nothing had really happened at all.

One towered over the other, equal in height to a Geno Saurer, at least twice the length, it stood on four legs, yet only two seemed fit for true usage on the ground. The forelegs were those of a great eagle or falcon, the claws retracted for the moment, while the hind legs were those of a lion, sturdy and powerful. It`s tail matched it`s legs, easily distinguished as that of a lion, save for the fact that the 'hairs' on the puff at the end of it`s tail were each micro-sized razors, and it was covered with hundreds of them. Great wings folded onto it`s back, layered over with feathers of the most reflective silver, miniature thrusters hidden within. Two blades, not onlike those of a Storm Sworder, rested on the front of each wing, undeployed for the time being. It`s head was that of an eagle, eyes a dull blue around an empowered, awakened red, with a beak that curved downward in a right angle at the tip, concealing within a weapon of awesome power. A quick firing beam cannon was placed at the bend of each wing`s middle, with the blades to either side.

It looked so unlike an actual Zoid, almost like a true, living, biological creature, a myth. A real Griffin, but at the same time, it seemed to fill some other role.

And beneath him stood a figure of near-androgynous appearance, spiked, wild hair settled back to the top of the figure`s shoulderblades, a powerfully limber build. There was almost nothing feminine about the figure, but at the same time, there were a few obviously feminine features to it. A woman`s stride wasn`t one of them. The clothing was ancient, highly basic and a bit odd to look at. It had once been standard military garb for Zoidian soldiers, but not it only barely looked normal. A green tunic shirt layered over a body jumpsuit of some sort of black material. It wasn`t spandex, too loose in fit, nor was it something very similar.

Last about the figure was the gigantic club held in one hand. It would`ve tired out an ordinary man in a matter of minutes to try and lug around, mainly since it was a hundred pounds or more in weight, made of a material that could superconduct electricity with frightening ease.

The underside of the huge Zoid, at the chest, slipped open to reveal an inner chamber eerily reminiscent of the cockpit of the Death Stinger, and the woman was soon unwittingly drawn from the ground, not with cords, or anything else. Her club lifted and since she was holding onto it with a near-death grip, she went with it, magnetically drawn within. The chamber slid shut, Madison faltered tiredly into the chair and Roc Spoke again.

She was asleep by the time the Voice ceased. Roc`s beak opened with a shrill cry, it`s wings spreading out in full, straight up, before coming to beat down solidly, throwing a plume of dust up from the ground as the beast lifted up, held aloft more by magnetics and guided by it`s wings. Seconds passed by and one of the archaeologists groggily shifted into conciousness in time to see the dust cloud to shatter from the speedy withdrawl of a gigantic silver bolt of energy, lined vaguely with a dark bluish tint.

Hundreds of miles to the west, atop a small hill in the dead of night, an elderly lady, dignified to the extreme, sat in silence on the porch to her quaint home, watching the storm clouds gathering in the distance. Her expression was one of thoughtful concern. She sat in a rocking chair, pink-red eyes with no visible pupils shifting ever so slightly from time to time before finally sliding shut, a knowing expression showing through on her aged-yet-beautiful face. Blonde-gray hair held in a lengthy ponytail shifted with the low winds of the evening, a slow, resigned smile forming on her face.

"I was wondering if you would come," she finally said to the figure who finally made herself visible from behind, within the shadows.

She was equally aged, her looks equally preserved. Her hair, in contrast, was blue lined with gray, her skin showing a few less wrinkles but her eyes showing a heavier personality. Unlike Fiona, this one`s body was thinner, more petite. In their youth, they had been opposites, in their age, they were almost twinly at times. The figure was clad in an old, blue leather dress that still fit perfectly even after nearly two hundred years of wear and tear, clasped together by a series of belts and rings with a pair of pants and a sleeveless shirt worn underneath. Fur-rimmed boots completed the outfit as Riese took her steps to stand shoulder to shoulder with the very woman she had once sworn to murder in cold blood.

"It seems like the more things change-" "- the more they stay the same," Fiona completed ominously, standing up next to her old... Friend? Perhaps, perhaps not. Two hundred and fifty years of life could render many things obscure. Friendship was among them, but then again, so was hatred.

"It`s almost like yesterday, they-" "- were at each other`s throats. Back then -" "- things were almost the same as they are-" "- now. The world threatens it`s end -" "- and we can only sit back and wait-" "- for the chance to prove that we`re no one`s pawns-" "- anymore," the two said as one, continuing each other`s sentences to the end.

"Black clouds are on the horizon. The ones who can actually block the chaos to come have been split apart across Zi," Riese predicted dryly. "Perhaps, but hope remains," Fiona retorted with the same old optimism in her voice that even staring into the face of the apocalypse couldn`t put out. Riese chuckled dully.

"Better to be a blind fool with hope than a visual prophet with none at all," Fiona retorted again with an equal chuckle.

"The Guardian is awake. They`ll be coming soon," Riese stated, killing the briefly, ironically pleasant mood in an instant. Fiona still smiled though.

"I know," she finally said. Lightning crashed in the distance. Storm clouds were still gathering far away.

The privately operated laboratory owned by Doctor Paul Tsun, a man currently standing across from a strange looking operating table, several dozen cords dangling above it, each with a suction cup attached to the end, and each suction cup placed around a small lens of some sort. The cords lead up to a central unit linking them all together to a single cord running over the ceiling to a series of monitors and a printer of some sort at the end of it all, with a currently vacant computer chair settled in front.

The room was well lit, exceptionally clean and kept free of the presence of a certain three or four year old boy by a series of four heavy locks and a number pad with a private code word typed in in an obscure method of substitution. The code number was 20161471. The substitution method was a trick that Tsun had picked up in college, he`d been quite a heavy LAN gamer and had eventually learned to 'speak l33t' as a result of it all.

The door was open for several seconds longer, at which point, a teenaged girl dressed in a black bodysuit stepped within, pushing the door shit behind her. It was a relatively easy task, despite the fact that the door probably weighed thrice as much as her father, who was close to 280 or so pounds. The locks slipped shut automatically, meaning the door could only be opened from within, or the code and key combination had to be put in use on the outside.

"About time," Paul commented paternally, seeming to run through last minute inspections of his equipment.

"Drake wanted me to tell him a bedtime story, then I had to dig up the suit," Leyla explained. "It wasn`t easy, since someone chucked it into my laundry," she grumbled.

"Oh... No one," Paul answered. He`d learned to not mention Leyla`s other personalities to her, if only because she outright refused to believe they existed. It was a sheer case of denial despite overwhelming evidence, like someone trying to ignore the existence of Roswell even when standing on one of the mindfields in front of it.

"Alright, get on the table and we`ll start the scans," Paul ordered, not needing to watch his adopted daughter haul herself onto the table and lay back, as was the nightly routine. The scanner device started lowering, the numerous cords extending towards their various locations across her head, neck, shoulders and everywhere else. They measured everything from brain waves to body temperature to heart rate to red blood cell count to bone strength in a matter of seconds.

"Just as I thought. She`s been stressed too much lately," Paul groaned in thought, looking through the readouts. Leyla was becoming increasingly unstable. That was a very, very bad thing.

"Gee, it`s only a well lit, empty garage where a pin drop is audible from fifty feet away. However did you know?"

"Are you Vega Obscura?" A voice echoed from behind, obviously born of the kind of pride inherent to an Imperial army officer. Torson was trying to speak but his voice was muffled. The sounds of a struggle were playing out behind him. Fury rumbled briefly.

"Yes, actually," Vega finally responded, straightening up from the floor and turning around. The bags under his eyes, the messed hair on his head, the posture and the dull smirk all combined to make him seem menacing, even at his extremely young age. It was almost like an encounter from centuries before, when Raven had first spoken to Karl Schubaltz prior to the demolition of a base during the third Guylos-Helic War.

"My name is General Otto Schubaltz. I`m here to deputize you for work on the Guardian Force," the man stated, the three soldiers behind him still holding Torson several inches off the ground. Vega shrugged.

"Fine, but if you don`t let go of my pal there, Fury`s going to have to remove you from the face of planet Zi," Vega replied, motioning up to the towering blue Zoid. The Razorwind Fury, it had only been equipped earlier in the evening after repairs had finally been completed, and even off the battlefield it was completely imposing. Otto grunted.

"Put him down," he finally ceded, causing the three soldiers to nonchalantly drop Lars right on his head with a dull thud and a vague crack. "I have two conditions for working for the Guardian Force," Vega began with the skill and diplomacy of an experienced negotiator. Otto raised a brow.

"The first is the deputization of Lars Torson - the guy who`s neck you just about broke, Katherine Takahori and Dana McCallister, along with the possession of the Storm, Berserk and Razorwind armors, as well as the inclusion of both the Fury and the Hammerhead II Foe Hammer," he exclaimed, pulling the name out of nowhere and hoping it wasn`t taken.

"Release Sarah Obscura from prison, preferably into the supervision and protection of either Stigma Stoller or Steven Tauros," Vega stated, smoothly running through the motions of releasing his mother from prison. If she became a mobile target, it`d be that much harder to track her down, and that much harder for Kale to assassinate her. "You do realize that she`s a known criminal in prison for a good many reasons."

"You do realize that without me, Kale is going to continue mopping the fucking floor with every last god damned task force you throw at him?"

"Fine. You have one day to report to duty, Guardian Force headquarters on the northern corner of the Guylos-Helic border, I`ll be waiting."

And with that, Schubaltz turned and walked away, the three soldiers following suit a second later as Lars pried himself off the floor in a disgruntled heap.

"Ya didn`t have to get me dragged into this mess too, yanno," he complained, rubbing the back of his unbelievably sore neck with one hand. Vega shrugged.

"I need you and the rest of the team for support. Besides, you guys could use a few days off from Stoller`s crap," he commented. Torson grimaced. All Hell was going to be raining down on Vega if and when Stigma found out.

A hotel room. A nice hotel room too, with three actual rooms(a kitchenette set in the living room with a bathroom and a bedroom all adjoined together as well) and a good balcony. It wasn`t a high rise suite, but it was on the waterfront and it was also very nice. The two occupants didn`t much care though.

Abigail Summers and Marcus Harlock lay in bed. Both had just eaten, both were exhausted from an especially long day despite how relaxing it had been and both were fresh out of the bath. Neither was clothed, but that was just a minor detail.

The two were talking idly, of course. Chit-chatting about what they would do tomorrow and how it would happen and so on and so forth, but neither realized that off in the distance, a man was plotting things. Violent things. Maniacal things.

Arihmanes still had his plan, and he was still ruthlessly, psychotically dedicated to seeing it through to the bloodiest possible ending. The man sat alone in his own hotel room, which was actually a run down shack he`d rented under the auspices of 'fishing.' In truth, he was sharpening his knife, biding his time to carry things out as stylishly as possible to impress the woman, sweep her off her feet in grand style, if you will. Of course it was illogical, but for a man who`d had half of his face burned off, logic was beside the point. Reconstructive surgery had done wonders, but he still wore a mask. The difference was that this mask was sprayed on in the morning and snapped off at night.

A picture of a certain green haired, green eyed young woman sat not too far away. Arihmanes was so focused on it that he didn`t even seem to notice the knocks at the door.

Finally the door opened. It was a policeman, someone must`ve noticed that the fishing house lights were on. Despite how he`d come ready for a shoot out, the man never even lived long enough to order Arihmanes to surrender. The watchman for the dock didn`t live long either. With one throw of his knife, Arihmanes had cut open the skull, throat and collar of the policeman and stabbed straight through the nose of the watchman with a sickening spurt of blood from each.

"Sharp enough now," he commented, limberly standing up in a spidery fashion, the picture finding it`s way into his pocket. Steps were taken and within seconds, he crouched over the second dead body, neck shifting about in an unnatural sort of way. His half-mutilated face lacked the plastic half-mask that was usually worn, but his replacement eye - usually covered up by a false lense - shone a dark red light on the knife.

"Sharp enough to cut my precious loose," he added, yanking the longknife out of the face of the second corpse and smearing the blood all over the good side of his face. It wouldn`t be long now.

Author`s Note: Arihmanes didn`t take getting mangled very well, did he? And now you see how Riese fits into all of this... Was gonna bring her in closer to the end, but it still fit with what I`d had planned, so no biggie.

New Age by Sh33p

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