By Sh33p, CultofSh33p@aol.com
The great sequal of New Age. It'll knock your socks off. Tim Seltzer, seltzer@seltzerbooks.com
Sh33p Disclaimer: I don`t own Zoids. Consider this disclaimer valid for the whole damn story :P
Foreword: Preferably one of those 'Well what the hell do we do now?' songs for this one.
In the desert, two figures walked towards the slightly brutalized edge of Romeo City. It was still the early morning, around ten or eleven in fact. The temperature was actually quite bareable around Romeo City, even during the summer it only got up to the low 80s at most. It was dry though, and that was why there was so little rainfall. The city itself was built around an ancient water reserve that had once been scouted out by a disturbed youth with red hair and a keen sense of irony.
The youth had been helping Gunther Prozen look for a place to set a base at, and he would one day be known as Hiltz. That was another story though, for another day entirely and it didn`t particularly concern either of the two pilots who were making the lonely walk towards the city, their Zoids both lying little more than a half a mile behind them.
The two were a bit ragged, Leon still had the smell of soot and smoke all over him from the Liger`s cockpit, Pierce looked to be the perfect mixture of calm and exhaustion, several hairs sticking out at random from her normally well-kept mane. Each had their hands in their pockets, each was walking out of step with each other but both looked more than a little relaxed for people who had just gone the whole nine yards with what amounted to death on a stick.
"So..." Pierce began, idly looking around for something of interest. Being a person who effectively lived more for the moment than anything else, she tended to need something to focus on, and right now the only things that really stood out were devestation, two brutalized Zoids behind her and a man in his early-mid-twenties walking alongside her. And he wasn`t much of a conversationalist so that didn`t help much.
"Don`t talk much, do you?"
"My only travelling companion has a razor wit and she`s not afraid to use it," Leon replied with a shrug. "That and we already know everything about each other and we`re together a lot so there`s nothing to really talk about most of the time."
"... What are you, lovers?" Pierce asked amusedly.
"Not even close," Leon answered without a hint of reserve or anxiety. "Naomi and I are just partners, even if we don`t have secrets from each other."
"Awww... How cute, I`ll bet you even bathe together!" She joked, attempting to make light of the situation. Leon`s sense of humor was about as bland as a brick wall though.
"We do sometimes, actually."
Pierce almost stumbled a few steps and took on a fairly mortified expression, blankly staring at him with one of those weird looks that people gave when they were surprised. "Wait... You`re not lovers, but you bathe together sometimes..."
"No, we`re not sex-buddies," Leon cut her off before she could even jump to the conclusion.
"Then what the hell are you?"
"Just partners. Neither of us cares, and she`s interested in someone else," he said with another shrug, still focused straight ahead. Pierce finally regained her composure after several seconds, looking a bit more amused than before now that she knew a bit about the two. At least now she had the potential to find some insult fodder on Naomi for that angsty romance novel comments.
"So who`s the unlucky guy?" She asked.
"Brad Hunter, I think you might have met him before," Leon replied, unsure. Pierce nodded.
"I think I spoke to him once or twice at the party after the Royal Cup," she said after a brief pause, trying to remember. "Let`s see... As tall as you, less broadened shoulders, slimmer build, long hair, more squared-off chin..."
"He`s also a bit more tanned than me," Leon added, holding up the arm with no sleeve covering it, obviously indicating the fact that he, like his sister, was a bit on the pale side. Pierce gave another nod before speaking again. "I remember him. Guy could stand to clean his hair more often though..."
"Telling Brad to use a hairbrush is like trying to get Bit Cloud to think before he does something," Leon explained with a hint of dry sarcasm edging at his voice.
"Ain`t that the truth."
"Bit`s the blonde one, by the way," Leon said as an afterthought.
"I knew that already. He could also stand to hit the gym once in a while," Pierce replied, remembering her own meeting with the Royal Cup champion. "Little shrimp thought he could lecture me..."
"Bit`s weird like that. Don`t mind him, even if he is right about talking to a Zoid."
"... Oh great, you`re only a lesser weirdo," Pierce muttered.
"You`re a weirdo too, you wouldn`t be piloting a Zoid if you weren`t," Leon pointed out without missing a beat, just as the two closed in on city limits, changing direction slightly to get onto one of the local - and empty - roads. "Besides, normalcy is for those who can afford it. I don`t think that applies to anyone anymore," he added.
"Anyone ever tell you you`d make a good speech writer?"
"Several," Leon answered.
"You make a better pilot though," she added again as the two continued along, passing by another row of buildings that had been riddled with bullets over the course of the night and the morning. "Speech writing doesn`t seem to suit you..."
"You`re right. I hate talking."
"More a man of action then?"
A pause.
"No. Just lazy."
Both chuckled blandly and came to a stop after several seconds more, looking around as the sound of clapping filled their ears. They`d passed through the remaining two rows of housing and development, making it into what amounted as the actual city, only to find a crowd had lined along the edge of the street, waiting for them. It was almost like a victory celebration, and in a sense - given that the city still existed and the people in it were still actually alive - they weren`t too incorrect in that assumption. After all, the only goal of the defenders was to insure the survival of the people they were protecting, nothing more, nothing less.
For the most part, those people were alive.
An odd smile etched it`s way onto Pierce and Leon`s faces, and after several seconds, they began to continue walking, each regarding the people who had gathered on the streets, most of whom were shouting things like 'good job' or 'way to go' or 'thank you' at the top of their lungs, and occasionally there were a few cat calls from some of the people involved. Pierce paid little mind to them, letting out a vaguely unamused smile in response.
Finally though, Leon broke their mutual, all-smiles-no-speech silence, speaking in a somewhat subdued, but still enthusiastic tone.
"Should I?" He asked, drawing a hand out of his pocket as the moment started to take it`s effect on him in full force. After all, the people were cheering for him as well as for her, it was nice to get some sort of satisfaction out of one`s work - however unofficial and last minute it had been. The woman beside him, for her part, merely smirked mockingly before giving a nod replying.
"If you do, I will," she said, drawing her own hand from her coat pocket in the process. Leon gave a thoughtful sound before slowly beginning raise his arm. He stopped halfway, at first, somewhat embarrassed at himself but only passively. As always, he didn`t particularly favor doing what his emotions told him, but then again, these weren`t just his emotions doing the talking.
After that brief pause, his arm finished raising up all the way, his hand initially held in a fist before two fingers straightened up and spread into a V-sign, holding that way from then on. The gesture was followed wordlessly by Pierce, who looked as if she was going to die laughing at any second, but the people around them both were utterly serious in mimicking the symbol, each throwing one hand into the air and making a V-sign while shouting out their praise.
"Who knew defeat could feel so good?" She asked, though he couldn`t tell if it was sarcasm or honesty in her voice. Either way though, he had to agree.
"No arguement there," he said after a few seconds.
Food.
Food usually brought comfort, for some reason. At least that was what it did for him, he didn`t know if it did the same for anyone else in his relatively small circle of friends. Food was never judgemental, it was never something that told him to get his act together, to study harder, to lengthen his attention span, to work out more, and it didn`t tell him what he should do with his life. All food did was sit there and be eaten. For some inexplicable reason, that made him feel comfortable. Maybe it was the taste, maybe it was the feeling that he wouldn`t need to eat anything else for a while, maybe it was the fact that he was doing something that would help him survive without having to think of more important things.
Right now though, food wasn`t doing jack squat for Bit Cloud. Military food wasn`t as bad as some people made it out to be, and while the only form of potatoes he ever really liked was usually french fries or bits and pieces of potato-stuff in his steaks, he had ordered some mash potatoes for the hell of it. Along with four or five random pieces of chicken and some fruit-looking... Thing that the server identified as a 'Guylos palm fruit.'
Said-palm fruit was green, covered in some sort of fuzz and smelled like a bag of garbage. Maybe military food was as bad as people said...
But that didn`t bother him. He hadn`t even eaten. He`d spent the past half hour just staring at what he`d ordered for breakfast. For anyone who knew Bit Cloud`s eating habits, this was something that could prove highly disturbing.
["You bastards think you can interrupt on my matches?" He asked with contempt blaring in his voice.
There would be no mercy for the intruders, as far as he was concerned at the moment, mercy was a foriegn concept that had no bearing on the present, he didn`t even know what the word meant. Armored panels capable of withstanding hundreds of missile, ballistic and energy attacks in a row flipped open with a dozen mirroring clacks, exposing the Liger Zero Panzer`s incredibly dangerous secondary arsenal of surface-to-air/ground cluster missiles.
Teeth grit, and the relative darkness of the cockpit was shattered as hundreds of miniature video screens popped up, super-imposed onto the main monitor of the Liger`s cockpit, both pilot and Zoid growling as one. It had been an afront to his own pride and honor, and it had been an attack on his friends and a rival he`d yet to defeat. Unforgivable in every way, and he intended on making that perfectly clear.
"I DON`T THINK SO!"]
Finally, he decided, turning around on the seat and standing up.
"I`m not hungry..."
And with that, Bit walked away from the only thing that really ever seemed to give him any comfort other than battle and the Liger Zero. It just wasn`t working this morning, and without another word, he -
[Bit!
"Keep fighting..."
An explosion. Glass shattered, pain and crimson clouded his vision.
"Keep fighting!"
I can`t keep this up for much longer...
Seconds of violence went by. Death, destruction, more pain. But still, he kept up...
"KEEP FIGHTING!!!"]
- left the cafeteria building, crossing through the doors and onto the grounds of the base. For someone so used to being utterly sure of himself over the course of the past two years of being a junk dealer, and a few months as a pilot, doubt was unnerving at best. He rarely questioned himself, his conscience didn`t seem to plague him anymore but...
["As our age comes to it`s end..."]
This wasn`t really just his conscience. This was his humanity he was questioning now, his right to call himself one of the good guys. Was he really like Kale? Or was he worse?
["So, does a new one begin."
Click. Boom. Game over.]
For the first time in months, Bit Cloud found that he didn`t have the answer for once, and Zeke wouldn`t provide it to him. That very revelation nagged at him almost as badly as everything else did. It nagged, it angered him and it left him feeling alone. Bit didn`t like feeling alone, he also didn`t like grief.
But he had that too. In spades.
["FIONA!!!"]
It was an empty feeling. A part of him felt like nothing had changed, another felt like the entire world had gone to hell and another still felt that part was right. A small minority within his thoughts felt that hope remained but an ever smaller, more powerful minority was laughing insanely.
["IT`S SHOWTIME, ZEKE!!!"]
He wanted to sit down and do nothing, he wanted to cry for his many-greats grandmother, he wanted to grieve for the men and women he had thoughtlessly, ruthlessly slaughtered one after another. He wanted smile and feel hope, like Fiona would`ve told him to, and at the same time...
At the same time as all of this...
Some vacant, long undisturbed part of his soul wanted him to take out his Handleblade and slowly, torturously slit the throats of everyone within a hundred yards before finding a Zoid and killing everything in sight.
That terrified him.
[He stared at the Devil. He saw himself staring right back.]
It terrified him to no ends, and he didn`t know -
["I..."]
- how to -
["Hate..."]
- make it -
["You."]
- STOP.
Alone on a base filled with at least ten thousand people, Bit Cloud
searched himself for the answers he sought, staring at his feet and absently
wandering wherever they lead him. His search was in vane though, for he
wasn`t the one with the answers, not this time.
"Nnnnmgbleh..."
The sound wasn`t exactly coherent, but it was still a good sign that he was at least alive. It brought an assuring, anchoring growl from something nearby. The presence registered, but at the same time it didn`t. Comforting and disconcerting at the same time, it still proved enough to stir his eyes open.
Everything was blurred. Breathing was painful, he had numerous, vague pin pricks lining his arms and a few on his chest, he couldn`t tell if he was wearing any underwear or not and it was numbing just to try and shift around, but shift around he did, at least from the shoulders up. With a slow, sickly motion, his head lulled to the side, and tired, brown eyes came to focus distinctly on the slender shape that lumbered over him in his cramped confines. Yellow contrasting with black, overshadowed by several different shades of blue, most of it a dark, metallic variety.
And the yellow seemed a bit silvery at the bottom edge.
"... I..." He cut himself off, unable to finish the sentence. Something maternal sounded from the creature next to him, and he felt what should have been a cold, dangerously clawed hand stroke softly over one cheek. At least it should have been cold and dangerous, but in this case, it was warm, even somewhat affectionate. Almost like his own mother`s hand whenever she had actually tried to be a mother to him when he was younger.
Sleep, Vega. We`re both hurt and exhausted, I can`t completely heal you yet.
"... Specular?" He asked after a pause, throat parched and dry, but voice still ringing out smoothly, however distressed it was.
Yes?
"... I wanna go home... Now..." He mumbled out, never once taking his still-blurry eyes off of the Organoid`s head. "I just wanna be left alone..." He said, having finally given up on trying to stop Kale. That didn`t matter to him anymore, his mother didn`t matter, nothing mattered. It had been too much pain and too much responsibility to be a hero before, and it was too much now. He just couldn`t do it anymore.
Vega needed a break from the fighting. It had been fun when it wasn`t life-or-death, but now he needed some peace, and his seeming phobia of large groups prevented that completely.
I know, the Organoid replied with a caring manner to it that was just inhuman. We`ll go back to the cabin... Tomorrow. Right now, we just have to rest, and gather our strength.
"... Will we even be alive tomorrow?" Vega asked tiredly, his voice laced with uncertainty that shouldn`t have been there. Some part of him just... Knew that something horrible was coming. Something horrible had already happened - several times, in fact - but still.
And all the days after that. Close your eyes, Vega. I`ll watch over you.
A ragged, utterly weary smile. In his life, only six people had ever treated him as though he was more than just a stupid kid, or just some pawn being used to expand his mother`s influence in the Backdraft Group. Bit Cloud, Jack Sisco, the Tasker sisters and Kale Obscura. Of those six, emotions varied. Jack and the Taskers seemed more weary and respectful of him after their confrontations with him, Bit treated him like a mix between a little brother, an adult and a kid who was mature enough to think for himself most of the time and Kale...
Well, Kale was too busy trying to kill him to treat him like an actual kid.
Specular though... She treated him like he wanted to be treated. With respect and a love that was familiar, and paternal. She could never replace Sarah Obscura as his actual mother, just like Bit could never quite replace Kale as his actual brother, but she did the trick well enough that it helped mend the old wounds and set him at ease.
And with his mind at ease, his body soon followed. Unconscious again,
the only sound to follow in the curtain-made room was that of medical machinery
and slow, labored breaths by a sleeping eleven year old, watched over by
an undyingly loyal creature that had bound itself into every fiber of his
being.
The bridge of a Whale King. It was uncomfortable to those on board for a number of reasons. To Leyon Martin, it was uncomfortable because it was so quiet. He couldn`t even hear his own thoughts because of the silence that filled the room, broken only by the repetitive mumblings of the pacing teenager not too far behind him. To Sarah Obscura, it was uncomfortable because she was still distant from her sons. She was literally worried to the point of sickness over Vega, and Kale was the kind of son who could drive any sane parent to thoughts of justifiable homicide from time to time.
For Steven Tauros, it was uncomfortable for two simple reasons. The first was that the Whale King in question was a carrier Zoid flying at close to mach one, several thousand feet off the ground. He was terrified of heights in most cases, and as a result, merely kept his eyes shut or kept looking away from the monitor that showed outside the carrier itself, leaning against a wall opposite of Sarah Obscura, though she was staring vacantly at the only person in the room who was under the age of thirty-nine.
Steven was also uncomfortable for the plain reason that the thing was named after a nickname given to his long dead wife by one of his(formerly) most bitter rivals. That tended to make anyone feel a bit out of it in most cases.
Leena was uncomfortable because the name of a Zoid had triggered some of her own insecurities, and as a result, she was trying to remedy that. She did this by pacing around in a circle in the center of the control room, occasionally mumbling out possible name changes for the Uglena. She didn`t want the Zoid - it didn`t have enough guns for her overkill-favoring tastes - but if she was going to have to see it every single time she entered the hangar it was going to need a new name. One that didn`t sound like 'Ugly Leena,' which caused what remained of her once inflated vanity to haunt her rather viciously because she was covered in scars, now wore fairly nerdy looking glasses and the edges of most of her hair was still singed a bit on the black side.
She didn`t use hair dye of course, Leena had always been too proud of her appearance to bother with anything more than the occasional lipstick and a small bit of make-up here and there, usually just eyeliner. At present though, she refrained from using anything to 'beautify' herself out of sheer unadulterated spite. Violently losing one`s good looks tended to leave most people more than a tad embittered that society`s views on most people revolved around just that: Their appearance.
"Bulena? ... No, too corny..."
Silence.
"Gun Raptor? Possible."
Silence. Leyon slurped up some of his noodles, but mostly just stared at the screen.
"Sickle Sniper? ... Hmmmm..."
Silence. Steve fidgeted somewhat, vacantly picking one of his ears with one of his pinkies and thinking how much he missed staring over his vast collection of toy Zoids.
"... Errr... Geno Raptor? ... No."
Silence. Sarah sighed and hung her head, drawn into thoughts of how things could`ve been vastly different if she had just settled her differences with Vega and Kale`s father, or if she had never gotten involved in the Backdraft to begin with. But that always lead to the thoughts of 'what else could I have done?' which inevitably lead her to the answer of 'nothing,' followed by more what-ifs.
"Blaze Raptor?"
Silence. Leena tossed another name into the stockpile, continuing to pace around in a circle. Her snug-fitting jeans and the turtle neck sweatshirt seemed strangely out of place on someone with her figure, as did the too-white sneakers. The glasses made her look a little cuter, but the scars... The scars just damaged everything. Her arms were still crossed over her chest though, her hands hidden as a result, and her steps were a bit stressed but always unerring. She never stumbled once.
"Neo Sniper?"
Silence. The Empress Heart continued along on it`s flight path, headed for Romeo City. Farentown was much closer, yes, but Romeo City was lined up with Garnhelm Base, and Stigma had mentioned - in an e-mail prior to the temporary crash of the internet - that Vega and possibly Bit were both located somewhere around that area. Leon was in Romeo, Bit and Vega were both apparently at Garnhelm. It was the quickest way to get at least some of the Blitz Team back together again.
Silence. And nothing else.
"Let go of me!" Yelled a black haired young man in his late teens to early twenties, only to have his arms gripped that much tighter by two far larger men, who held him several feet off the ground like he was a paperweight. His hands were cuffed behind his back, the choker on his neck was so tight that it made it a bit annoying to try and breathe properly and his shoulders were in pain because the majority of his weight was resting against them, pulling down from below rather than pushing from above.
"I think not," a voice as smooth as glass and twice as sharp replied, villainous intent inking it`s way into the air so thickly that Bill almost passed out from it`s putrid stench. A door swiped open, blackness filled his vision as the guards hauled him into a room, and the sound of an automatic spray mechanism going off echoed into his ears not long after that. The lights flipped open for the first time in what must have been days, and as a result, one captive finally saw the other.
He bore only a passing resemblance to Vilhelm now, but there were still traces of something charismatic in the ragged looking shell of a man that was chained so hatefully to the wall. The shackles on his wrists alone were enormous, weighted so that he probably couldn`t even lift his arms very well, and those on his ankles didn`t look terribly lighter. There was another, lighter one around his neck, but this one was also different because it was clean, a surgical white with a small, mechanical looking port on the side of the neck where one of the major veins leading into the brain was located. It looked more like a collar than anything else.
"... What in the hell..."
"Say hello to Henry. My brother," Vilhelm replied with a smile, grabbing the ragged looking fellow by his unkempt, neck-length black hair and literally yanking his head up so that Bill could see his twisted face. Still baring only a passive resemblance to his brother, Henry`s features looked worn out far too early in his life. Chapman instantly thought he was fifty from the way his skin looked, but the lack of actual wrinkles and the color of his hair broke that assumption with ease. He looked unhealthy in every way, too thin from not eating enough, like all he was given were vitamins, just enough nutrient packs and the like, no actual substance being provided. His only clothes were a pair of dirty, filthy, foul smelling and equally disgusting looking briefs, nothing else.
At the mortified look across his captive gladiator`s face, Rommel swiftly brought up one hand, in which was held something that looked like a surgical 'gun' or something, an injector system that looked like it linked right into Henry`s collar.
"This is an injection device, it carries five to six ounces of a highly effective, and highly illegal drug which stimulates the body`s pleasure centers, along with heightening the central processing areas of the brain. It causes the injectee to feel a sense of euphoria, and it enhances their reflexes to the extreme, speeding up thought processes and heightening the senses as well."
Bill was silent, finally regarding what Rommel had just said.
"But it`s also highly addictive, and the feelings it causes drastically shorten with every use."
He already knew what this was leading to.
"I don`t have to kill you, Chapman. Like I said before, I can always turn you into dear Henry, here," Vilhelm exclaimed with another cold, malicious smile that made Bill`s very blood crawl with a thousand venomous spiders. Henry only smiled in a drug addled ecstasy of wonderous thoughts and feelings, drooling from the side of his mouth as those faded-green eyes shimmered with badly dilating pupils.
"Get him out, now," Vilhelm ordered after a few seconds of allowing the message to sink in, and the guards replied in kind. Even Kale Obscura or Bit Cloud would have shattered under the pressure that Rommel was applying to Chapman`s weary, already crumbling psyche, but the former champion held on to some absent shimmer of hope that didn`t exist anymore.
Without a word, the guards were gone, taking Bill away with them to be beaten lightly and thrown back into his cell in a way that wouldn`t prevent him from piloting.
Vilhelm on the other hand, merely stayed behind, regarding his tortured
brother with amusement and a scheming look in his eyes. He left not long
after, making doubly sure to turn off the one light in the room, never
once saying anything of comfort to the brutalized soul he had once called
'family' without ever meaning it.
Calm. How in the Hell was that guy so calm? That was the question currently forcing itself into Leyla Tsun`s thoughts. She could see him perfectly, even in what should have been - and was, for her compatriots - pitch darkness, and all he was doing was sitting there, mumbling out things to himself.
"There`s no fear. There`s peace. There`s no panic, only calm. There`s no confusion, only clarity. There`s no captivity, only freedom..." He kept repeating the phrase, never missing a step once. For whatever reason, Brad just kept saying the same string of words over and over again. His state of mind was set towards freedom, but he didn`t rush toward it. That was something he had vaguely in common with Leon Tauros: He thought things out. He had patience, he didn`t blindly rush in, but he did have emotions and he paid a lot of attention to them.
It almost looked like he was using the phrase as something to focus on during meditation.
Jamie didn`t seem to notice, he was laying down with his head calmly situated in Leyla`s lap, staring up at the blackness where the ceiling was located, one hand laying across his stomach, the other situated at his shoulder, clasping to one of her own. The two teens had both been oddly silent while Brad had been doing nothing but mumbling to himself, simply regarding their current situation and thinking. Occasionally they would interact, usually small gestures only though.
A squeeze of hands, the occasional squirming to get closer, mutual sighs or yawns, whatever worked. It was really all they could do, there was no escape.
Yet.
That 'yet,' and Jamie, were all that were really keeping Leyla going at present. A night in an uncontrolled criminal insane asylum, going crazy in the first place, having two personalities 'die' and being seperated from the only people she really thought of as family - in addition to the shock of the flood of memories invading her mind even to this very moment - were more than enough to jolt her out of really doing anything for now.
But that 'yet' represented hope. Jamie represented the pillar of that hope. They were fast developing a mutual interdependence on each other, and it wasn`t just because they felt they were in love. They were each other`s crutches. Where one fell, the other tried to hold firm, where one stumbled, the other tried to stay steady and where one was somber, the other tried to remain at least somewhat upbeat.
It was really all they could do...
"Tick..."
A second flew by. A murderous thought went with it.
"Tock..."
Another second flew by, bringing with it another murderous thought.
"Tick..."
Another second. With it, a cold, malicious smile.
"Tock..."
Kale Obscura was amused at the expression of his supposed captors as they slipped his cell door open, one holding an assault rifle in his direction, the other setting a tray of food down along with a bottle of water at inner boundary of the doorway, quickly straightening up and backing away.
"Tick..."
He could have killed them before the armed guard could even finish thinking to pull the trigger. That thought alone made his smile seem all the more deadly, like a viper coiled to strike.
"Tock..."
Both men, each looking like they`d just stared at the grim reaper, stepped back from the door, and the unarmed guard promptly slammed it shut without a word. Kale paused only briefly to raise a hand in a dastardly little wave at the two, one that had 'I`m going to paint my face in your blood and dance on your graves' written all over it.
Each cringed at the gesture, and quickly began to walk away.
"Tick..."
The hallway door opened.
"Tock..."
And slammed shut by the time he`d spoken again.
"Only I..."
The lock flew into place on the other side of the hallway door.
"Know the beat of the clock..."
A cruel chuckle. The heartbeat of a demon roared in his ears, growing more dangerous with each hour. He was guessing that it was near late afternoon now, which meant he would only have to wait through the night and then the day that went with it.
He was going to particularly enjoy the sound of hearing the necks of those tow individuals snap like twigs, perhaps listening to their final cries in slow motion as he ended their lives. But that could wait.
He was patient after all. Time could only last so long.
"Tick..."
The smile finally faded.
"Tock..."
Anyone could see death in the eyes of Kale Obscura as he stood up, continuing
to speak the two words out, lazily walking over and grabbing his food.
Author`s Note: Hats off to anyone geeky enough to recognize the vague Star Wars reference.
EndlessAdventure: Borealis has no l33t ninja skillz, he has Kirk-Fu *Snicker.* Hats off again to anyone geeky enough to recognize the vague scifi reference >_>; And if the prequel is ever written, it`ll revolve mainly only around Thomas, possibly Fiona, Moonbay and Irvine, I highly doubt anyone else will play more than a supporting role. If it`s written. As for the Black Ultra... Since when have I flung something at you involving super death machines that seems remotely logical? :P
Illidan: Actually, that 'typo' was intended :P The real typo was "before it could his the Whale King?" >_> The horrific violence and gore isn`t going to be coming for a little while longer. After all, the people need a freaking break or they`re all gonna keel over and die in bloodless exhaustion :P As for Mark and Kyle... I have plans for those two, but I`m not sure of reliving the Suicide Days is among them...
Well, that`s all for now folks. Enjoy, leave a review and see ya next
time! Sh33p out.
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