| GCB Fanfics: The Fanfiction Project |
August 24th, 2003"Conflict" The wood of the tree splintered in the path of the taped foot. The top half of tree fell to the ground, with a powerful crash. A large rock was the next target for the fighter. A calloused fist flew through the air, and plunged through the granite boulder. Fragments of stone flew through the air, sending wild life running. As a bead of sweat dropped to the ground, the fighter took a rest. “Impressive, this power is much greater than last time,” the fighters voice rung through the now silent forest. “I suppose I have you to thank for that,” he said to the forest. A voice from his mind answered though. Yes, you should thank me, in fact you should relinquish control of his body to me. “HAHAHAHAHA!!!!” the fighter laughed out into the forest, sending the birds who had dared to land on nearby trees flying off in fear. “Not a chance!” The fighter proclaimed to the forest. “You’d simply try and take another shot at “the failiure” I’ve told you before, I’m here to win, not to do your bidding.” The fighter’s body tightened. The muscles stretched to their maximum, and his body began to move slowly. His fist slowly opened, and clenched onto this throat and began to squeeze. You forget your place, understand that you only have control of his body because I do not need to waste my own strength on the likes of you. Never forget that. The throat cut off the blood and air from the fighter’s head, but the look on his face was not of worry or panic, but of apathy. The hand quickly left the throat, and returned to the fighters side, “Is that it?” the fighter asked. “You shouldn’t underestimate me, I’m not in the same league as this fool who you’ve possessed.” The resistance the fighter was pushing against his own body disappeared. It matters not, you’re not worth my time. “Heheheh, say what you want. I’m returning to training,” --- The metal bar thrust up into the air, halting and holding in its upright position for a moment, before returning to the chest of Solid Snake. The metal bar, with the circular weights on either end, was thrusted into the air once more, only to come back to Solid Snake’s sternum again. The process repeated several more times before it was interrupted by the room’s door opening. “Yo, Snake, what’s happening,” said a voice dripping with a Brooklyn accent. The metal bar went up into the air again, and then came down on hooks, holding it up in the air. Solid Snake sat upright, allowing beads of sweat to drip off his face. “Vercetti, weren’t you eliminated or something?” He asked removing the weights off the bar and tossing some of them to the ground. He gripped the bar with his hands and began to pump the bar up and down. “Not just yet,” Vercetti murmured. He looked over at the weights, there was a 25 lb. weight one either end of the 40 lb. bar. “100, Snake?” Vercetti commented. “Here, let me come in there and show you how its done.” He took a step in and crashed to the floor. “What the ****, I feel like I weigh a ton in here.” Snake continued pumping the bar up and down in his hands. “When I was squatting there was only 300 lbs of weights in here, so I had to double the gravity.” “**** Snake, your match is in 24 hours, and you’ve been training like this for 3 days, without rest. ****, man, I know you’re a ****ing machine, but you’re not a kid anymore, you could ****in’ hurt yourself.” Snake pumped the bar up and down a few more times and then tossed it down on the ground. “Get out of here Vercetti, I’ve got a match in 24 hours, I need to train.” Snake waited until Vercetti left, and then dropped the bar and fell to the ground. He lied back down onto the ground letting the high gravity pull the sweat off his head. The whole confrontation with Sephiroth was still hot in his mind. It had made him feel weak, how just that one guy had been able to easily defeat both he and Samus. Also, the plans of world domination and destruction were irritatingly familiar to Snake. It really got on his nerves how every time some whacko freak decided to destroy everyone, he always had to be the one who did something about it. Still though, there was something unsettling about the way Sephiroth had looked at him that night. It was a look that he was becoming vaguely familiar with, Sephiroth was looking at like Snake like he was being used. It wasn’t so much the look that he was being used, but that he was no longer a threat, which usually condoned being used back in his dimension. He’d already heard enough from him, to know that he was the scheming type. He picked up his towel and headed to the shower. The searing hot water, tried to relieve some of the tension in his muscles, but failed. He finished up, wrapped the towel around the lower half of his body, and walked out of the shower room. He sat in the dressing room, putting back on his clothes, he had just finished when he recieved his second guest of the night. It was a lady, a beautiful, blonde girl, clad in black sweatpants, a tanktop and jogging shoes, all were soaked in sweat. Snake didn’t even recognize her, until he noticed the Chozo™ Logo on her black sweatpants. “Samus,” Snake said in a sort of shock. It wasn’t the first time Snake had seen the bounty hunter’s face, but it was the first time he had seen her out of her Chozo suit. He thought about asking a question about the suit, but decided against it. Samus noticed his contemplation and answered his question without hearing it, “The suit has all sorts of motion aides built in, I get a better work out running and lifting with the suit off.” “Already training for your match?” Snake asked, not really intrested in the answer, since he already knew it, just trying to make casual conversation. “Yeah, since Cloud finally beat Bowser I’ve been training constantly. In fact our little date with the alien freak was the first break from training I’ve had, and even that wasn’t much rest,” Samus said dropping down on one of the wood benches in the men’s dressing room, and pressing a towel to her face to absorb some of the sweat that was dripping off of it. “Sounds like my training schedule too,” Snake chuckled. “Yeah,” Samus said with a quaint almost forced smile. “Listen Snake, I didn’t just come here today to see you naked,” Samus said jokingly. Snake finished tying his bandana around his head and replied, “You’re breakin’ my heart, Samus.” She chuckled at that one, and then continued, “I really wanted to thank you, for covering me back there. I’ve gotten used....to doing things alone. It’s nice to know that there’s someone who’s got my back when I’m pinned down. Snake turned around and walked over to Samus and kneeled down in front of her. “I’ll cut you a deal, Aran. I’ll cover your back from now on if you do something for me?” “What?” inquired Samus. “If you cover my back,” Snake said, holding out his hand. Samus looked at the hand for a moment and then reached out and shook it vigorously, “Deal, Snake.” --- Sephiroth growled, perched atop the training center, overlooking the domain that would soon be his. The complications he had faced at the beginning of the tournament were one by one dropping away. Link had lost the majority of his sensational power by turning himself over to the mask. Cloud had lost Aeris, and with her the source of his power. The boy had broke free of his control, and lashed back with lethal force, but lethal just wasn’t enough to stop Sephiroth. He had dealt with that pest, Alucard. One complication still troubled him, the alternate being inside Ryu’s body. This, Akuma, was an unwelcome surprise for the son of Jenova. When he had searched Ryu’s memories, as he had searched every ones, he was euphoric to see the other inside of Ryu’s mind. His plan went flawlessly, and the other being had taken control. He had expected the other to provide some sort of resistance, but nothing that compared to his own greatness. The memories tore through his mind again, of his hand being pulled away from the throat of Cloud against his own will. He was fairly sure the other being hadn’t noticed, but Sephiroth wasn’t holding back when he was trying to assassinate Cloud. His hate had consumed him and he had lost his control. Yet still, he had been overpowered, there had never been a time in his life where he could remember being overpowered, and he didn’t like it. Not that this Akuma rivaled his own power, merely that his presence weakened the mental connection between Sephiroth and the body. Of course, he also had the aid of the rightful owner of the body, but he was far too easy to manipulate, when Akuma had knocked the wall down, he had lost nearly all of his mental strength. Still though, if the other died, and Akuma gained full control of the body, there was a small chance that he might be able to expel Sephiroth from the body. He had already planned out the fates of all of the major strengths in this tournament, a new one added into the tournament at this point was not something Sephiroth wanted to deal with. He returned into the mind of Ryu. Apparently when Akuma was training, Ryu had little problems and became quiet in his prison. So Sephiroth could speak freely with Akuma. “What hope do you have of winning, Akuma? What hope do you have in a match against me? Sharing his mind with me you must surely recognize the vast superiority of my power over yours. What hope do you have to over come that difference?” There was no immediate response, Sephiroth felt another surge of power on the other side of the mental line, indicating that another violet fireball had torn another gorge into the forest, then the thought finally came through. You disgust me. Sephiroth didn’t respond to the comment. Your power is great, there is no denying it. But at the same time, you do not appreciate your own power. Tell me, at any time in this tournament, have you lifted a finger in training? He waited several moments for a response and received none, so he continued. Precisely, you’ve become decadent. Instead of training, and perfecting your skill, you sit back and hatch petty scheme’s to try and better your power that way. You put yourself above all your opponents and think that you’re on a different level. That’s why you’ve failed so many times. You fail to see that there are others who rival your own power, that’s why you lost to “the failure”, that’s why you lost to Link, He stopped his speech a moment to chuckle, And that’s why you lost to the boy. “Fool!” shouted Sephiroth into his empty room. The mere memory of his battle with the boy, was enough to bring Sephiroth to the point of enragement. “I crushed the boy, his body was tossed into oblivion days ago. He was nothing.” Sephiroth regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, and down the mental road to Ryu’s body. The sacrifice for having control of anothers body, and immediate access to their mind, was that they also had immediate access to yours. Akuma knew all of Sephiroth’s dark truths. By the power of the stone. He had beaten you, not through his own power, but by your own carelessness. You held the sword, ready to finish it, yet when you realized that his will was stronger than yours, you were too shocked to act. That is why you have lost so much, because you believe you are some sort of god, but remember this Sephiroth, while your power maybe godly, you are mortal. Sephiroth’s rage began to pique, this was unbelievable. As much as he hated to admit it, Akuma was right. He could’ve killed Cloud at any moment in his own dimension, before he and his friends had attacked him in the crater. Last year, he had been unable to believe that a mere child could wield the amount of power Link had so easily, and he had refused to exert himself accordingly. But, the truth about Crono’s will was what stung him. Sephiroth’s will was iron-clad, un-bendable by any man. The only way to stop it was to destroy it, but Crono had been different. His will was so strong it couldn’t be broken by breaking him. That strong will was what separated him from the rest, he did not fight for his own goals, only for his will, his will to protect those he loved. There was a powerful truth in that, Sephiroth had no emotional attatchments because they would have made him weak. However, they had made Crono strong. What’s the wrong, no wise word’s for the moment, does your “godly” intellect fail you in the face of the truth? Sephiroth clenched his fists to contain his rage. He began to form a response but stopped himself. He took a deep breath and clamed his nerves, regained his composure and spoke. “Yes, but I still could’ve beaten any of them. My power is absolute, I will always decide the outcome of any battle. You cannot say that for yourself. Even the being you are now, has power greater than your own. You awoke him, you brought him into this world to test your own power, but he was the one who tested his own strength on you. You lost that fight because you were the weaker warrior, I have always given them the mercy of life, rather than them earning it themselves.” He peered deep into the mind of Akuma, the mental link apparently linking all the way back to the dimension of Ryu. Another side affect of the Porta Dei. But Akuma’s mind was strong, none of Sephiroths’ taunts even scraped the mental wall of the warrior once known as Gouki. Another warrior with an unbreakable will. Not what the son of Jenova had wanted to see. Another hurdle in the path to the Gate of the Gods. Eventually the wall would have to be broken, but not now. Suddenly, a soft tapping severed Sephiroth’s mental connection with Evil Ryu. Sephiroth whirled around, unsheathing the massive Masamune, in the lightning fast dash to the door. One hand slammed into the intruder’s throat, lifting him high into the air. The other brought the legendary blade to the intruder’s face. Sephiroth spoke softly but firmly, “Why are you here, boy?” The intruder was a bellhop at the Manor, his body trembled in terror. He was clearly trying to say something as his mouth was moving, but his vocal chords where paralyzed with fear. Finally, the boy managed to choke out something, “The . . . the . . . the...the...mat...the match. Y...y...you....you told...you told me to tell you...when it....started.” Sephiroth pierced the boy’s mind with his cyan eyes, pressing the blade to the boy’s face, just strong enough to displace the skin, but not strong enough to break it. He stared into the boys eye’s for several moments and then dropped him to the floor, sheathing the Masamune before he hit. “You’re right,” said Sephiroth. “I did.” He walked passed the collapsed bellhop and marched toward the field. Snake had been quite pretentious in that little interlude he’d had with Samus. It would be a pleasure to see him die. "Climax" A cigarette burned in the cool night air. Snake wasn’t taking any chances, something wasn’t right about his opponent. He’d seen him in the last tournament, he appeared to be one of, if not the most honorable one there. And yet, 9 days ago, he’d seen the same man, rip the heart out of a disabled opponent. It didn’t make any sense. Something had happened to him, Snake was pretty much sure of it. He had seen it earlier and wanted to run some reconnaissance, but the Bowser fiasco had taken priority. And by the time they had finished with him, it had been time to start training for his match. Since Snake had requested no lights, the burning cigarette butt was the only light on the field. His hands ran a quick check over the equipment he had brought along. His hand quickly found his M9 in a shoulder holster, loaded with real bullets, not rubber ones or darts, the time for holding back was long since past. He moved his hand across his chest and it brushed up on the goggles on his chest. Fisher had given them to him, before he went back to his own dimension. They were the brand new NSA issue, complete with thermal vision mode too, way better than the one he still had from his Foxhound days. He reached down to his belt, where the many clips of ammunition found their homes, but recently they had received 3 new neighbors, who all answered to the name incendiary grenade. His hand reached to his back, the cold steel of the M4 Assault Rifle’s handle was all too familiar. He dropped his hand to the cargo pocket on his spandex pants, 4 lbs of C4 was tucked away within. The detonators were up on his belt. Next to the detonators sat the High Frequency Blade. He really didn’t think it would be much use, but you never knew when a nice close range combat weapon would come in handy. Last but not least the medical kit hung from his belt behind him. He didn’t want to use it, but things seemed to get out of hand really quickly when he was around. The arena was completely dark, the audience had been instructed to not have any visual lights of any sort on the field, only a few had felt rebellious enough to smuggle some in. The tournament officials were on the mark this time though, after the massive complaints about the lack of a visual stimulus in the Sam Fisher vs. Magus fight, the tournament officials had installed 8 massive screens above the field. Each of the eight screens was placed outside the edge of the ring, specifically designed so that no one within the force barriers would ever be able to get a look at them. The screens were displays of the field from hidden cameras in the audience, they took pictures of match in infrared and displayed them for the fans. The fans would know exactly what was happening this time. But for Snake, there was only one light, the light of a burning cigarette butt an inch or so away from his face. Snake had been early, he was always early, but that didn’t change the fact that his opponent was late, very late. His opponent was already late, past the point of being disqualified, but Snake would’ve had to have agreed to that, which wasn’t very likely. The cigarette burned in his mouth, he pulled it out and took a closer look at it. If he died because he ran out of breath . . . well, that would serve him right, now wouldn’t it. He chuckled at the thought of a cigarette being the enemy that finally got the best of him. He stretched back, anxious about his match, yet calm and composed. Then he heard the sound of a door bursting open on the other side of the field. He brought the cigarette back to his mouth and took a deep puff, it was time...finally. His opponent finally made his way through the maze and into the center courtyard. Snake shook his head. His opponent’s black gi was torn to shreds. He was covered from head to toe in dirt, his body was covered in burns from his showdown with Dante, that clearly hadn’t been treated and were beginning to become infected. In normal conditions Snake couldn’t have seen that much in the dark, but his opponent’s entire side was basked in a red glow that was coming ominously from the warrior’s eyes. His eyes were a deep crimson, that seemed to be emitting a crimson flame, but they illuminated his body perfectly. Snake shook his head again, and said aloud, but to himself, “God damn it, I always have to deal with the freaks.” His opponent must have heard it, because his blackened lips curled up in a hideous smile. He blinked his eye’s once and the glow was gone. Snake tossed the burning cigarette onto the stone tile floor and ground it out with his foot. He signaled over to the announcer that he was ready. A gong sounded, silencing the crowd, and the match began. Snake got to his feet, no longer being able to see his opponent. He said aloud to the night air, “So, how do you want do this thing?” He received no response, just a soft chuckle to his immediate left. He couldn’t get his guard up in time, a powerful fist crashed into his head from the side, sending him sliding along the ground. He hit the ground, and rolled. Using the momentum to jump back onto his feet, he quickly reached into the shoulder holster and whipped out his pistol. He assumed that his opponent was closing in on him, but his feet were silent, made no sound. He fired a shot, to get a look around. In the flash of light emitted by the explosion in the chamber, he saw a body no more than a few feet in front of him. The bullet whirred by the body, missing it by less than a foot. Then the warrior spun around, bringing a well-calloused foot across Snake’s hand. The pistol flew across the arena making a clinking sound on the ground. The warrior chuckled. Snake cringed, he could now hear his opponent breathing. It was too close to try his M4 or the grenades, but wasn’t too close for unarmed combat. He ducked down, and let loose a sweeping kick. He felt the legs of his opponent give way to his own. But then he felt a fist pound into his chest. He heard the sound two feet landing on the ground, indicating that he had just been able to jump over the sweep. He heard the soft chuckling again, but this time Snake got him off guard. He rolled onto his back, and then kicked up. He felt his feet hit something solidly, then a second later he heard the sound of a body hitting the ground. He quickly grabbed the night vision goggles and strapped them onto his head. He flipped a switch, and suddenly the arena came into view again. He saw his opponent kip up and start walking toward him again. How does he know where I am, he doesn’t have any sort of night vision ability or equipment. He lunged to the right to avoid a powerful sidekick. The crumpling of the rock assured Snake that he had a few seconds, while his opponent pulled his foot out of the wall. He rolled up onto his feet and ran a few feet, then leapt into the air. In a magnificent bit of grace, he spun around in the air, while sliding the M4 off of his back into his right arm. Before his first foot hit the ground, the shots were already coming. Snake closed his eye’s, he had to. The fire flaming out of the barrel of the gun, was way too bright to look at with night vision goggles. He had lined up his first shot, and from what he’d seen before he started blasting, his opponent still had his foot in the wall. Snake knew a thing or two about reactions to gun fire, and he had anticipated those with the following blasts. All logic told him the match was over, but as his friend Max Payne liked to say, “Logic is such a liar.” Snakes eye’s opened a split second after the last shot was fired. Before he had finished crouching down to a more stable position, the empty clip had hit the floor and a new one was on its way. To no big surprise there was no lifeless body lying next to the hole in the wall, but there was no body anywhere whatsoever. Snake had managed to land in a corner, so he quickly surveyed the remaining 90 degrees that were available in the courtyard. Nothing. He thought about the situation for a moment, and then lunged forward, narrowly avoiding a violet hadouken flying at him from above. The energy ball hit exactly where Snake had been sitting and hurled him through the air. Snake was heading at the ground headfirst, he tucked and rolled onto the ground. He hit the ground and flipped up his night vision goggles with a quick flick of his head. He heard a thud on the ground behind him, and spun around and started shooting. This times Snake’s eye’s were wide open, the gun fire illuminated the arena, giving him a perfect view of his opponent. The shot’s rang out and lunged through the air. Their aim was true, the chest and other appendages of the one known as Ryu, but they never reached their target. The bullet’s careened through the blackened night, but right before they pounded through the flesh of Ryu’s torso, he seemed to disappear. The wake of the warrior was all that the bullets could find. The flame from the barrel of the gun died down, and with it the light. With a quick nod, the IR goggles were back on his face. It was too late though. A calloused hand had already pressed away the rifle from its place. Leaving an open Snake, for the dark warrior to attack. His foot came up in a perfect motion. His knee came to his chest and then extended, propelling a taped foot into the stomach of his opponent. Snake was hurled through the air, crashing into the wall of the maze. He heard a crack, and felt the wall give way behind him. He rolled down the slanted slate of plaster, and came to his feet. His momentum carried him into the wall, and he took off down the passage, ignoring the searing pain of the fractured ribs of his chest. He rounded a corner, and spun around he hugged the corner and crouched down, peering around for any sign of his opponent. He quickly popped another clip into his M4, and looked again. No sign of his opponent, which was a bad sign. Suddenly he heard a light “padda-padda” from the other side of the wall. The ex-Foxhound agent rolled aside as Ryu’s possessed body flew through the wall, with a powerful sidekick. Damn it thought Snake How the hell does he know where I am? --- Sephiroth watched on the screen as Snake got up and began to run down the corridors, dodging in and out, having studied the pattern so hard he could run it blindfolded. He chuckled to himself and then subtly revealed Snake’s new position to Akuma. Snake crouched down waiting for his opponent to come. He pressed a small switch on the side of the goggles and suddenly the black and white display turned into a rainbow of colors. The walls being made of cold plaster were invisible to Snake now, leaving his opponent in full view. He was running along the top of the wall. Snake flipped it back to night vision, and pulled another page from his friend Max Payne’s book. He lunged forward, as his opponent leapt off the 9 foot high wall, and brought a powerful knee right into the spot where Snake had been not a second earlier, leaving a cracked stone tile as a tribute to his power. Snake spun around aiming his M4 right at his opponent, even with his opponents quickness he’d be a few second’s to recover after a miss like that. Snake pulled the trigger, feeling the match in his hands. There are few things that a soldier hates. His life of extremities has caused most things that normal people hate to seem minor, only worthy of frustration or discontent. Snake’s hates were such, few, but focused. In fact off the top of his head, Snake could only think of 3. Ocelot Revolver, his brother Liquid. But the third, the third was the thing he hated most of all, it wasn’t a person or a thing, but just a sound. A sound that had enough power to bring the most calm and collected man on the planet to the point of spewing hateful obscenities. Snake heard that sound. He heard the sound that he and everyone in his line of work hated more than anything. The sound of a misfire. The click rang throughout the stadium. Snake hit the ground and flipped up to his feet inspecting the gun. He cringed and swore as he saw the gun slightly bent right at the clip intake. Going through the wall must have bent the steel thought Snake, very upset. His opponent must have realized what happened because he gave a hearty laugh, one with more girth than one would suspect to come from a murderous psycho. The body of Ryu began to gingerly stroll closer to Snake. Snake held the broken rifle in his hands as his opponent came closer. When the dark clad fighter was 2 feet away, he stopped to sneer at his opponent. He leaned forward unleashing a frightening smile into the night vision goggles of Solid Snake, but Snake had an answer for it. The but of the machine gun flipped down from under his arms, as Snake slid his hands up the barrel. They finally caught their grip, and Snake leapt to his feet, bringing the M4 up in a powerful arc right into his opponents sneering face. The metal butt of the rifle collided with his opponents chin, lifting him up onto his toes. His opponent staggered back, and reached up to clutch his face, but Snake wasn’t giving him a breather. He stopped the rifle and then brought it careening back down, it collided with his opponents cheek. Snake heard a satisfying shattering. The Zygomatic bone was easily broken, even by a misguided fist. But the steel end of a 35 lb. weapon, meant that the bone was gone. Snake’s opponent fell to his knee’s. As Snake spun the M4 around for another blow, he planted his boot into his opponent’s side. The kick knocked his opponent over to the ground, and Snake took advantage of the opportunity. He leapt up in the air and then brought the cold steel butt of the rifle right into his opponents stomach. His opponent curled up in reaction to the powerful blow. Snake tried to pull the M4 up again for a finisher to his opponents head, but this time the dark warrior was onto him. His two calloused hands gripped, the gun and yanked it across his body. Snake couldn’t let go fast enough. The move flipped Snake over his opponent and sent him right through a wall on the other side of him. Snake rolled to his feet and started running, but not before leaving his downed opponent a little present. The warrior knew much about fighting, even a little about gun fighting, but not enough to know the clink of a grenade when he heard it. He jumped to his feet just in time to feel the tremendous explosion from his feet. The fire came flying out of the small container, it took hold of the fighter and hurled him into the air, over one wall and headfirst into the one behind it. Snake flipped on the goggles to thermal mode, he immediately found the motionless body of his opponent. He smiled to himself and rolled his head popping several bones in his neck. He celebrated his victory, by pulling out a cigarette and pressing it to his lips. He pulled out his lighter and with a quick thumb motion fire spurted out the top of it. He moved the flame closer to the tip of the cigarette but it never reached its destination. Instead the lid clicked shut, extinguishing the flame, and the lighter slid back into a cargo pocket. “God damn it,” Snake said aloud, in disappointment as the red blur in the night vision goggles began to rise. He sighed and ran back into the maze. Akuma groggily forced the possessed body back to its feet. The force from the grenade had disoriented him quite a good deal. He brought one hand to his head, to quell the pain. The years of conditioning his muscles from blows from opponents like Sagat and Ken, had made his body the equivalent of a soft metal, very difficult to break. He pulled the final remnants of the torn gi from his chest leaving just his pants, with one leg torn off just below the knee, and the other leg with numerous holes. He slammed his fists into the wall in front of him, feeling it collapse. He stretched his muscles preparing to enter the fray once more. Then the message hit him. What are you doing? hissed a cold, dry voice in his mind. He chose not to respond and began dashing through the maze. Well, incase you’re a little confused, you’re losing. This mortal with no real powers is humiliating you, in full view of the people. Is this really the proof of your power? Akuma stopped and yelled back in through the mental line, No, maybe you’re a little confused but he’s very hurt, I know I’ve broken at least two of his ribs, and thrown him through two walls. If you think he isn’t hurting right now, you’re blind. Besides, I suppose it never even occurred to you that I might actually enjoy a challenge. Sephiroth’s continued to mentally taunt the master of the Raging Demon, but it was no use. Akuma had returned his mind to the fight, and once it was there it stayed no matter what. Suddenly he heard a faint humming. He ducked down and rolled just in time to avoid being on the face end of a face stabbing from the high frequency blade. His feet planted into the ground and shot him into the air. He flew towards the wall, but caught himself with his feet. Then he pushed off, crumbling the wall with his feet and spun around into a tornado kick. He felt a wall get in his way but then he felt the satisfying thud of a foot on face collision. The sound of the sword scattering away from the place of battle was unmistakable. He heard the soft clatter of boots scurrying down one of the hall ways. Evil Ryu pulled back his hands to his side, and suddenly a violet light filled the maze, illuminating the once hidden Solid Snake. He was in the middle of the corridor, with no visible means of escape. The burned and chapped lips turned up in an evil grin fitting Ryu’s new nature. Then the violet light flew away from his hands and down the hall at the ex-Foxhound operative. Snake had no way to defend against it, shooting it down wouldn’t work, no way to dodge, so he just turned around planted his feet and crossed his arms. The explosion rocked his world and hurled him backwards down the hall. He skidded and rolled until he hit the wall on the other side. The warrior smiled, as he didn’t hear his opponent rise to his feet immediately. The years of training his body were working their magic, this spy couldn’t go blow for blow with him. This time Snake was slow to get up. He could feel himself moving slower than he had at the beginning, he was losing the war of attrition. He had to end this. Snake pushed himself to his feet and ran down the hall. His opponent listened to the patter of his feet to tell what direction he’d gone in. Then he calmly began walking in that general direction. End this. demanded a voice inside the warrior’s head. He’s weakened, end it now. I command you to. Akuma’s retort recoiled over the mental connection. Wrong choice of words, I’m not your servant. I’ll end this when I’ve proven I’m the better warrior, and not a moment before. Don’t defy me, Gouki, Sephiroth slandered daring to use Akuma’s real name. My match is done, I no longer need to reserve my power, I can use it on you. Evil Ryu dashed through the maze, emitting a small bit of ki, as a form of sonar, maneuvering inside the unlit maze, using Snake’s footsteps to track his movements. Akuma didn’t respond, he just followed Snake. Finally, he heard the patter of feet stop. It was directly to his right. Another plaster wall fell victim to the foot of Evil Ryu, and he stepped through into the hallway. The display in snakes IR goggles wasn’t as friendly as he would’ve liked. Walls on three sides of him, Evil Ryu on the other. Suddenly a purple ball of light appeared in his opponents left hand. Snake quickly knocked the goggles off his eye’s. Evil Ryu stood at the open end of the otherwise closed corridor. Clutching a purple ball of power in his left hand like it was a precious gem. The energy illuminated the hallway, exposing the truth of Snake’s capture. Snake’s face was dimly lit along with the rest of his body. But only the left side of Evil Ryu’s body was shone, but two ruby eye’s had started emanating a crimson glow on his face. Snake could see his opponent smiling. Suddenly, the fighter crouched down, bringing his other hand to his left side, pouring more power into the opal ball of destruction. The jewel in his hands began to swell into something greater. Now the light was completely filling the stadium. All of the audiences faces were bright with the violet glow. The only thing that was sill in shadow was his face, but two ruby eyes emanated a crimson glow, revealing the vicious smile of an evil victor. The ball of energy grew and grew, grew almost as large as the man who controlled it. Violet sparks crackled through the air around it. Snake furled his arms in defiance and stared at the warrior with utter apathy. The brilliant energy brimmed with its horrible power, as it reached its full potential. For the first time in the match the warrior spoke, “You’re a great fighter, I will honor you with a spectacular death.” Snake looked at his opponent for a second and then said, “Heh, honor...just isn’t my thing.” He held his hand out towards him, there was a small device with a red button on top. Snake flipped a switch on the side and a green light began to flash. The warrior noticed a similar one next to himself. He turned to see a very large wad of C4, stuck to the wall not a foot from his head. He turned to Snake, again. Snake looked at him, and nodded, acknowledging him as one of the many powerful foes he’d dealt with, then he pushed the red button. A grenade has a lot of explosive power in it. Enough to take out anyone, anywhere near it, but 4 lbs. of C4 was overkill. The shockwave from the blast knocked Snake, who was 30 feet away through the wall behind him. It sent Evil Ryu, who was 2 feet away, flying through about 3 walls, all the way across the courtyard, and through two walls on the other side. Snake took a minute to lie on the ground. The numerous injuries he had received through the battle beginning to set in. He brought a cigarette to his mouth, pulled out his lighter, lit the cigarette and took a deep breath. He decided to lie there until the medical team came around. Moving didn’t seem very interesting at the moment. --- Sephiroth cringed in disgust on the side of the stadium. Akuma’s power had failed. It shook his head, but then rose it up to the screen. It was time. --- The mental plane of Ryu was desolate. Ryu, remained in his quiet state, and Akuma, on one knee, unable to battle. Then Sephiroth stepped in. “Akuma, you’ve proven yourself to be even more incompetent then I had ever imagined. Your time wasting my creation, is over.” “You’ll never take control of Ryu, you don’t know how,” Akuma retorted, breathing heavily and dragging himself to his feet.. “We’ll see,” responded Sephiroth dryly. He walked over to Akuma, finally deciding to challenge him for control of Ryu. --- Suddenly, Snake’s peace was interrupted by some motion on his Thermal display. The body was twitching, and not the normal post mortem-twitches, hardcore spasms. Snake scowled and spit the cigarette onto the ground. He forced himself off the ground, all of his muscles aching in extreme pain, but he had to do it. He walked over to the whole the C4 had left in the wall, and looked into the courtyard. Ryu’s body was suspended in the air, violently rocking as if in utter agony. Two aura’s of energy were making the old battle of Yin and Yang around his body. One crimson, one silver. --- Akuma tried as hard as he could, but was too weakened to oppose Sephiroth. He could feel his power fading. Sephiroth began to taunt his opponent, “...and in the end, Akuma, “The Raging Demon”, falls just like the rest. A good effort, but devoid of any true power.” He began the final banishing of his opponent from the dimension. Akuma felt himself slipping out of the dimension and made his final words, “Mark my words, Sephiroth. You will fail, as always.” Sephiroth growled, and roared charging his power to the task of banishing Akuma. With great success. The crimson glow vanished from his body, and it exploded with a silver light, the light washed over the body, healing his wounds. The warrior floated down to the ground and touched lightly, his eyes were closed. Suddenly his eye’s snapped open, revealing two brilliant silver eyes. The warrior stood in the courtyard, cleansed of all his scars save for the enormous gash across his back. His stance was much different now, standing full upright, rather than crouched down for mobility. His arms were no longer in the fighting position but rather folded in front of the warriors chest. The silver glow coming from his eye’s now completely illuminating the entire arena. Snake quickly ducked down behind the wall. He pulled out the medical bandages and quickly wrapped all of his heavily damaged areas. He pulled out a small pocket ration and stuffed it in his mouth, for some more energy, then he got out a needle. Snake didn’t believe in morphine injections, especially on the battle field. They clouded his judgment made him slower on the uptake, but his injuries were too egregious to leave unattended. After quickly testing the needle, he gently inserted it into the crock of his arm. The drug flowed through his system, relaxing his muscles and easing his pain. He got back up to his feet, still pressed against the wall. He leaned over and peeked out from behind his hiding place holding his M9 with both hands in front of him. He saw no one...until he turned back. Suddenly, a pair of silver eye’s were shining into his. Then a powerful fist, crashed into his stomach sending him flying through one wall, then over the remaining into the courtyard. Snake wasn’t back on his feet very fast, giving his opponent some time to think. --- Sephiroth couldn’t help but chuckle, this one had beaten Akuma. He had clearly overestimated the possessor of Ryu. He began to walk forward to finish the match, but then a thought flashed through his head. If I kill him now, he won’t learn his lesson. His impudence in trying to get me kicked out of the contest demands retribution. He’ll die, but only after I’ve had a little more fun with him. --- The blow to Snake’s stomach had winded him nearly completely. He took a long time to get up, the morphine causing him to feel in a dream like state. He finally managed to pick himself up off the ground, his head was swimming, unfocused, but still he looked around steadily aiming his M9 in case he saw something. Suddenly, the arena began to feel cold. Snake looked around, nothing had changed, except the temperature. Then he blinked his eyes, when they opened again, the audience was gone. Now there was nothing left outside the outer edge of the maze, just blackness, it was getting colder too. He blinked again in disbelief, when he reopened his eyes snowflakes were falling from the sky. “Where am I?” asked Snake to himself, although secretly he already knew the answer. He decided he should take himself out of suspense, “Shadow Moses.” He peered around the snow filled area, it was about 100 feet by 100 feet, closed of by chain link fences on three sides and a warehouse on the other. He walked around, his feet gently padding on the freshly fallen snow, when he heard the crunch of a boot on snow from behind him. He whirled around, M9 at the ready, and stopped in utter shock. The other man was clad in a khaki green tench coat, and matching pants, with a pair of black combat boots finishing off the attire. There was no shirt under the trench coat, just dog tags on his bare, chiseled chest. Blond locks down to his shoulders, outlined an all too familiar face. Then the man spoke, his voice dripping with an irritating European swagger, “Hello, brother, welcome back.” “Liquid,” Snake accused. He squeezed his finger closer to the trigger, then a blast of logic hit him. “Wait, why am I here, what happened to the tournament, where’s Ryu?” He demanded beginning to look more closely at his surroundings. Snake’s clone shook his head. “That’s just like you brother, always thinking about the big picture. You should live for the moment!” He yelled rushing in on Snake, while he was looking away. Before Snake could spin around and shoot him, the gun was kicked out of his hands. And quickly the same boot, came around and hit him in the chest. Snake rolled backwards and up onto his feet leaning in quickly and cracking Liquid across the face with his right hand, then following up with a blow to his stomach with his left, then he jumped up in the air and brought his army boot across his brothers face. Liquid Snake lost his balance and stumbled to the left. He quickly composed himself, bringing up his hand to his mouth to examine the blood that had escaped from the corner of his mouth. He pulled off his trench coat and tossed it into the snow. Solid Snake was bouncing up and down in his combat stance ready for whatever Liquid was churning inside his skull. Liquid charged forward, releasing a sloppy right hook to start out with. Solid instinctively raised his hand to block it, but before the punch reached, Liquid twisted his body around and thrusted his boot into Solid’s stomach. Snake hit the ground and plowed through the snow, but quickly got to his feet before Liquid could strike against his counter offensive. He threw a low kick at the legs, but Liquid was too quick, he grabbed the leg and pushed it up into the air. Then as Snake began to fall back he elbowed down onto his sternum, propelling him to the ground. Snake rolled to the side avoiding the stomp of a boot, and kept rolling avoiding stomp after stomp. Liquid chased him stomping the ground, but narrowly missing every time. Finally, he jumped across, cutting Snake off at the pass, but to his surprise, Snake spun around on the ground and kicked him backward. The kick was awkward, without much foundation, so it barely knocked Liquid back a few feet, but when he went to charge in, he was met by the barrel of Snake’s handgun. Solid held Liquid in place with the unwavering gaze of the steel sights. “Very good, Snake, as usual, but unfortunately for you, not good enough,” Liquid stated grinning smugly, snapping his fingers. Suddenly a loud clash of metal on metal rung through the air. Snake watched as the gun flew out of his hand and across the little enclosed area into the wall of the warehouse. Snake looked off his left, at first he didn’t see anything, then he noticed that one of the links in the chain had broken, smoke was coming off them. Then he noticed a red light on the ground beside him. It crawled up his leg, like an ant at a picnic and settled in place on the left side of Snake’s chest. Liquid chuckled, Snake realized. “Sniper Wolf,” he grunted as he leapt to the side, feeling the hot metal of a bullet wiz by him. He ran toward the warehouse zigging and zagging to try and prevent the sniping genius from getting a bead on him. As he reached the warehouse, he quickly picked up his M9, watching a bullet pass right in front of his face, the shot would have splattered his brains on the wall if he hadn’t slowed down to pick up the gun. He ran along the wall, kicked in a door, and jumped inside. He slammed the door shut behind him, and rested against the door for a moment. A bullet blasted through the door next to his head, a splinter of wood hit him in the cheek, and blood started to seep out of it. He calmly, and slowly walked into the room. Metal crates were stacked one on top of the other all over the room. Snake couldn’t suppress a shiver going down as he recognized the room. A movement from up in the rafters. Snake spun around in place, crouching down to the ground, aiming his weapon up into the rafters. He closed his eye’s and cursed under his breath. For in the rafters he saw what he had not wanted to see. The rafters were spattered with black, the black of the feathers of raven’s there were at least 30 up there. A deafening whirring sound, cleared up any doubt Snake had about what was happening. Footsteps crept along the floor even though Snake was silent. Soon, Raven protruded from his hiding amongst the boxes. The shaman stood looking down at Snake, fully upright. The large machine on his back whirring with incredible speed, and the Gatling gun resting lightly in his hands. His face was calm, composed, serene. Snake still sat crouched, not even facing Raven, the huge commando could’ve wasted Snake easily in that moment, but he waited, he waited for Snake to be ready. The master of infiltration took a moment and then stood up, and turned to face Raven. The two Foxhound commandos stared into each others eyes’ for a moment. The ravens in the rafters left their post and began to fly in circles cawing for blood. Raven pointed his gun at Snake, and the barrels started to rotate. Snake lunged behind the boxes, avoiding a rain of lead from the gun. Snake crept through the boxes, the little noise produced by his feet easily out ran over by the incredible sound of Raven’s weapon. Raven was at a disadvantage, in that respect. Snake would always know where Raven was, and Raven wouldn’t know where Snake was until he showed himself. He reached a corner, he could tell Raven was on the other side. He slowly peered around the side, only to look straight down the spinning barrels of Raven’s chain gun. He swung back, as the bullets flew, tearing a chunk out of the metal box. He ran to get out of the metal hall way as he heard Raven following behind him. Raven flew around the corner, mini gun blazing. Snake wasn’t in the clear yet, he spun around falling down to the ground backwards, unloading his own weapon at the shaman. The first three bullets missed but the fourth sunk into the muscular stomach of Raven. The shot disoriented Raven but not much else. Snake used the time well to slink back into the maze of boxes. Raven stood in the warehouse, looking down at the wound slowly leaking blood on his stomach. He reached down, digging his fingers into the hole, searching for the bullet. He found it, and clasped it between his index finger and thumb, yanking it from the hole. He didn’t even flinch during the process. He looked at the bullet between his fingers, then tossed it to the ground and continued to search for Snake. The crowd was a little confused. Actually very confused, so much so that they were now booing and throwing stuff at the force barrier, all deflecting off with small blue sparks. While the first half of the match had been everything they’d wanted, it had since tapered off. One competitor, namely Snake had been doing all sorts of acrobatics for no apparent reason, and shooting at nothing, hell he had even thrown his gun across the courtyard, then gone and picked it up. While his opponent had been following nonchalantly behind him, chuckling to himself every now and again. No one in the crowd had any idea what was going on, except Cloud. Cloud recognized, Ryu’s new found posture all too well, only person there who knew it well enough to recognize it. Sephiroth had somehow managed to posses Ryu. He grunted in disgust, Sephiroth wasn’t in the audience, at least not visibly, no chance of stopping him that way, he looked around to see if any of the other competitors would help him. His eye’s came to a rest on the red and yellow armor of Samus Aran. He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell that she was worried, he slid over and began to talk to her. “Do you know what’s happening to him?” Cloud asked the bounty hunter. “No, my guess is a morphine induced hallucination. Sometimes when your blood is flowing the morphine can have some undesired effects, but Snake should have a high enough resistance to avoid that,” She said shuddering as Snake lunged to the side in the maze firing several shots into the wall in front of him. “It’s Sephiroth,” said Cloud blankly. Samus spun around the visor of the Chozo suit fixated on Cloud. “He’s possessed Ryu, and given Snake one of his mental illusions, the morphine probably just made it easier for Snake to accept the falsity of his new world.” Samus looked out onto the field as Snake wasted another clip, and began to reload, “Damn it, Snake, wake up.” --- God damn it thought Snake, he’d hit Raven 3 times, but the guy was like a tank, the bullets didn’t even make it through his muscles, it was like he was wearing body armor. He was running out of clips, 2 left, not counting the one in the gun. He had to regroup, rethink his attack, without a stinger or M5 this fight wasn’t going to end on a positive note. He noticed another door, besides the one he came in. He ran, over before Raven could find him again, and twisted the handle. The door opened and he slipped inside. The room was different from the other, metal boxes still littered the ground, but they were smaller now. He stood up, still on the ready, but leaning on the wall taking a moment to rest. He heard a light clattering and looked up to see a metal box careening toward him, he tried to lunge out of the way but the box crushed his arm against the wall. He kneeled down, clutching his arm, while looking for the attacker. Then he walked into view. He wore all black, tight black pants and boots, and a tight black sleeveless shirt. Crimson straps extended all over his body, originating from the sternum. His bald white head was concealed by a black gas mask. He was the man known as Psycho Mantis. His hands were at his sides, slightly elevated as if he had begun to lift them up but never quite finished. He walked carefully, placing one foot in front of the other. The look of his eyes was nothing short of pure hatred. Finally he stopped looking at the crouched commando, then his eye’s surged with emotion, and he finished lifting his arms to his full wingspan. Five or six boxes lifted off the ground, and began to circle around him. He stared at Snake for a moment, daring him to think something. Snake’s thoughts betrayed him, as a box hurled through the air at him, as he tried to cock his pistol. He rolled to the side, and it crashed into the wall next to him. Snake rolled into his kneeled position, and open fired on the psychic operative. Unfortunately, Mantis had predicted his move perfectly. A metal box came down from its orbit to absorb the bullet fire. Once the spray of bullets had stopped, the metal box flew towards the crouched Snake, another coming off the ground to take its place. Snake once again narrowly avoided the incoming projectile, sliding along the ground and firing at Mantis’s legs. Mantis slightly curled his fingers, and his body lifted into the air, allowing the bullets to pass harmlessly under him. Snake hid behind some bosses, throwing in his second to last clip. God damn it thought Snake I need to switch the controller to slot 2.................what? Snake’s hiding didn’t last long against the psychic ex-KGB agent. Mantis thrusted his hand at the pile of boxes, and the psycho force blew them away like leaves in the wind. The boxes plastered against Snake’s back, interrupting his confusing train of thought, sending him sprawling across the floor. He groaned and rolled onto his back only to see a box right above his head. Snake rolled to the side, as the box collapsed to the ground. Another one was on its way already, instead of rolling to the side, Snake lifted up, and rolled forward under the box. He was acting on instinct not thought, not a wise strategy in general, but against a psychic opponent, the only one. He closed the gap between himself and Mantis, coming in with a pistol whip from the right. Mantis bend sideways, ducking right under the hit. Snake came across with a kick aimed at the psychic’s side, but Mantis had long since leapt backward, leaving Snake with nothing to kick again. Mantis thrusted his hand forward, throwing Snake across the room with an invisible force again. He heard a clinking at his feet, but he didn’t need to look down to know what it was. The boxes stopped rotating just to hover in the air. Mantis looked at Snake picking himself up off the ground disappeared right as the grenade exploded. Mantis reappeared about 10 feet to the left. Glaring at Snake with the same placid hate that always covered his face. Snake quickly unloaded grabbed the next grenade off of his belt. He pulled the pin and held the spoon in. He waited for a few moments and then hurled it at Mantis. Much to his dismay, the moment the grenade left his hands, Mantis raised his own again, and the grenade stopped in its tracks and fell down to the ground at Snake’s feet. Snake cursed and jumped out of the way. The explosion hit him from behind propelling him back towards the door he had started at. He got up, a little disoriented, attempting to get another shot off, but a metal crate was already on its way. It smashed into Snake’s chest, throwing him back through the door, and out into Raven’s room. Snake got up, still holding the metal box to his chest, as if it were stuck there. Raven must have heard the grenade as he rounded a corner, and began to fire at Snake. Snake acted quickly chucking the metal box at Raven’s head, then ducking back into the maze. Raven looked up at the oncoming back, removing a hand from the trigger of the mini gun, and batting down the oncoming metal crate, like a cat at a ball of yarn. Then began to open fire again, just as Snake finally rounded the corner of another metal crate. The bullets tore off chunks of metal right behind Snake’s head as opposed to flesh for the second time. Snake ran through a little bit, then took a rest behind one of the crates. Suddenly he heard a metallic humming, instinctively he ducked down. The High Frequency blade cut through the metal crate like it was rice paper, and slid out just as easily. Snake looked up, to receive another boot to the stomach from his “brother” Liquid Snake. “Come now, brother, you didn’t really think I’d just forgotten about you, did you?” Liquid taunted slashing down with the sword. Snake rolled onto his back, allowing the blade to narrowly miss his spine. Then when he heard it stick into the ground he rolled forward, kicking Liquid back. He kipped up to his feet and dashed the other way. For the first time Snake began to assess the strangeness of this situation, Why does Liquid have the sword? Why am I back in Shadow Moses? How come the entire Foxhound elite group is here? And alive and well? The questions began to pour in, each one making less sense then the next, but his thinking was interrupted, as he heard a door kick open to his immediate left. It was the door from outside, and in busted the busty Sniper Wolf, holding her sizeable sniper rifle. Snake raised his pistol and squeezed off three shots, finishing off his clip. She rolled out of the way, landing in a flat sniper position, and firing off some rounds of her own at Snake. He ducked around another corner and stopped, big mistake. A large crate toppled off the top of the stack, coming straight down on Snake. He lunged forward, the crate smashing into the ground and nearly exploding behind him, a chunk of metal gashed through his leg, but not doing much serious damage. He spun around on the ground seeing Psycho Mantis walking down the passage towards him. Snake fired a couple of poorly aimed shots at him, until he teleported again. He lifted himself to his feet as Raven rounded the corner. This time Snake had the drop on him. Raven didn’t already have his gun rotating, so Snake had a split second for the first move. Snake spun around and unloaded the remainder of his second to last clip into Raven. Raven raised his chain gun in front of his face, deflecting the bullets aimed at his head, but allowing three others to find his stomach leg and arm. He left the chain gun there for a moment, Snake was also waiting to see what he would do. Then he calmly lowered the chain gun, and the barrels began to spin. “God damn it,” said Snake, before ducking back behind the metal crates to protect himself from the hail of gunfire. He rounded a corner and waited for a moment, throwing in his final clip, then got blind sided by the small metal crate he had brought out of the other room. It flung him to the side, when he tried to get up, a crushing right hook from his brother, knocking him right back down. Liquid then kicked him into a corner. Snake got up, Raven had found him and was now walking in slowly, Mantis had the steel crate hovering above his head and was walking toward him too. Sniper Wolf appeared on the other side of the warehouse, and the aim of her rifle trained in on Snake’s skull, Snake couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed, but that was the least of his concerns, as Liquid began taunting him. “Solid Snake. Ex-Foxhound Operator. IQ 180. Speaks 6 languages fluently. Also known as “The Legendary Mercenary.” “A man who changes the impossible to possible.” He quoted from Snake’s dossier. He chuckled and then walked forward, holding the High Frequency Blade in his hand. He brought it up above his head, ready to strike, “Game Over.” Samus and Cloud looked on desperately, “This isn’t good,” stated Cloud somewhat redundantly as Evil Ryu stood holding the sword in striking position in front of the downed Snake. “I can tell by his actions that the morphine is starting to wear off, he should come to his senses soon,” Samus suggested hopefully. “I don’t think he can break Sephiroth’s illusion in his weakened state though,” Cloud said. “He needs some contact from outside to break the illusion, but if we do that we disqualify him. Not to mention the fact that we can’t get through the force barriers.” Samus cursed underneath the helmet of the Chozo suit. Then an idea hit her, “We don’t have to get in.” Samus picked up and began running up the stairs, a confused Cloud followed in a few seconds. Finally they reached the top, neither were out of breath. Samus turned around and pointed her gun down at the stadium. A greenish blue ball began to hover in front of the muzzle of her gun arm. “What are you doing?” asked Cloud. “On my mark fire some sort of projectile down at the arena,” Samus commanded, as the ball grew in front of her. “Are you crazy?” asked Cloud incredulously. “Even if we do break the force barrier we’ll disqualify Snake if we hit Ryu.” “We’re not trying to break the barrier,” Samus said, as sparks began to come off the ball of energy. Cloud took a moment and then figured out what he was talking about, then pulled out the Buster sword. They hadn’t been able to fix the sword completely, the metal from which the blade was constructed out of didn’t exist in this dimension, besides modifications they made would’ve affected the materia abilities of the sword. So instead, they had wrapped the sword in a magical tape. Sonic had made the comment that it looked like a mummies bandage, but when they had wrapped it around the sword, all over the sword, it had come together. Now it was time to try it out, Cloud pointed the sword at the arena and a white light covered the blade, concentrating into a small ball at the tip. “Here goes nothing,” said Cloud. “3-2-1, FIRE!” yelled Samus unleashing the brimming ball of energy at the field. “BLADE BEAM!” yelled Cloud, sending a white laser at the arena too. The two energies collided with the force barrier at practically the same exact moment. Suddenly the arena bursted with the electric blue light of the force barriers, as huge sparks of lighting moved up and down to stop the oncoming attacks. “Come on, Snake, wake up,” muttered Samus under her breath. --- Snake couldn’t think of a way out of the situation. Psycho Mantis was no doubt reading his thoughts right now, so there was no way he could surprise the group. And even so, there was no way to get four shots off, before one of the four Foxhound commandos finished him off. It was....impossible. Suddenly the warehouse, glowed a bright blue. Something glitched, nothing changed, nothing about his opponents, except Liquid Snake. For a moment the man standing in front of him wasn’t the Foxhound Combat Leader, Liquid Snake, it was Ryu with the sword risen above his head and his eye’s glowing silver. Then it returned to normal. His opponent must have seen Snake’s realization for he immediately brought the sword down in a humming arc, but Snake was already acting. He raised his M9 and released 7 bullets into the chest of Liquid Snake. Everything disappeared, Sniper Wolf, Psycho Mantis, and Raven all disappeared, as Liquid fell backwards into one of the metal crates. The warehouse lasted for another moment then disappeared. He was outside in a desolate snowy plain, then that disappeared too, just leaving the remains of destroyed plaster walls, and his opponent slouching over leaning against one of the ones still standing. “GOD DAMN IT!!!!!” yelled Snake finally realizing what had just happened. He looked down, all of his grenades, gone, all of his clips, gone, all his weapons, gone. All he had was his M9 he quickly popped out the clip, only one bullet remained. He slammed the clip back in and pointed it at the slumped Ryu. --- Ryu’s mind was once again silent, Sephiroth hurt inside the mind of the warrior. “Curses, perhaps I too underestimated this one. No matter.” Sephiroth stood atop the arena, out of view of anyone, but still able to survey the match. He clutched the Chaos Emerald in his hand, with much difficulty transmitting the healing power of the jewel over the mental line, into Ryu’s body. The bullet’s began to seep out of Ryu’s body. “Excellent,” thought Sephiroth. “Not long now, before this Snake is out of my way forever.” He chuckled to himself, suddenly the magic stopped. Ryu had left his meditation and snuck up on Sephiroth. His arms clutching Sephiroth’s shoulders preventing him from moving. Then he began to speak from his own mouth for the first time in a long time. “Snake!” he said forcefully. “Yeah?” asked Snake cautiously, even more cautious now that one of the bullets had seemingly left Ryu’s stomach by free will. “Shoot me,” he said calmly. Sephiroth gasped in shock, and tried to fight back. But the injuries had weakened him to the point where he couldn’t control Evil Ryu anymore. Are you completely and utterly moronic. If he kills you, you’ll go back into hiding inside the other’s mind again. Evil Ryu will sleep once more. I’d rather be in a peaceful slumber, then have to listen to your mindless babbling any more Sephiroth, I want you out of my head, now. Sephiroth’s struggles were becoming more successful as silver healing energy managed to leak over the almost closed connection between Sephiroth and Ryu. “Hurry!!” yelled Ryu. “I can’t control him much longer. If he regains control it will be the end of all. One shot to the head will finish both of us for good.” Snake wasn’t quite sure what to do, this entire match hadn’t gone at all the way he’d imagined, and the thought of being forced to kill an ally again didn’t sit well in his stomach. The warrior was crouched over, spasming violently. Suddenly, it jumped up and slashed forward at Snake’s face, but the High Frequency Blade stopped an inch away from his face. Ryu yelled again, “Hurry, I don’t know how much longer I can keep control!!!” Snake looked into Ryu’s eyes, and deep within them he saw what he was looking for. The honor of a warrior. Snake closed his eye’s and shook his head, “God damn it,” he said, then he pressed the gun to Ryu’s forehead. “Thank you,” Ryu said quietly. “Don’t mention it,” said Snake. Then he pulled the trigger. Ryu’s body tumbled over backward slinking down to the ground. Finally able to rest. Sephiroth clutched his head, the quickly closed mental connection, sent a searing pain back along it into Sephiroth’s mind. Sephiroth cursed under his breath, somewhere he could hear Akuma laughing heavily at his expense. “No matter,” rationalized Sephiroth. “He can be dealt with later.” He turned and leapt out of the arena, not wanting to be seen. --- Snake leaned back up against a wall. He pulled the pack of cigarettes from his cargo pocket and opened the box. He pulled the slender tan and white cylinder from its container and placed the tan end in his mouth. He tossed his gun in his other hand to the ground, and pulled a lighter out of another pocket. A quick movement of the thumb, ignited a flame atop the lighter. He looked at the flame for a few moments, taking time to appreciate its subtle beauty, then he lit the end of the cigarette. He sat back taking a deep breath of the cigarette, letting the nicotine and other chemicals go into his lungs, and relieve some of the stress from his muscles. He breathed out, sending a puff of smoke into the cold night air. He looked up at the night sky, then collapsed from exhaustion. "And Then There Were Nine....." There were only two people in the Hero’s Haunt tonight. Long ago, in the days when the bar first opened its doors, there had been far more. But between the one per day exits of the contest’s competitors, who were the only patrons of the establishment, and the increase in everyday tension among the competitors, there wasn’t much time for relaxing in the bar. There were other, more vital things to do with one’s time. Not everyone had forsaken the Hero’s Haunt, however. Sitting in silence at the small table in the far corner of the bar were the two Italians, Tommy Vercetti, and Mario the plumber. The martini and club soda that the two had ordered one hour ago still sat, untouched, in their ornate glasses… It wasn’t that the two guests disliked them. It was simply because they had never really noticed that the drinks were there. They were too lost in thought, trapped inside their own little world. Currently, the phase was that of thought. It had been ten minutes since either Vercetti or Mario had spoken… In fact, it was unlikely that any of the nine remaining contestants, still remaining in the long, sixty-three day tourney, had said a word of late. They may have been scattered throughout miles of woods, town, and prairie, but a veil of uncertainty hung over all. Solid Snake was indisposed. His usual nightly routine of a visit to the Hero’s Haunt, a drink, perhaps a card game or five, discussion, and then an extended period of wandering the landscape while in deep thought had never started that night… His match had been today, and he was still licking his wounds. He’d been in his room, unseen by anyone, ever since his heated afternoon battle with the street fighter as well as whatever mysterious forces were controlling him. Today’s events had been most… illuminating for Snake. It wasn’t the fact that he had almost lost, though he had almost been defeated, that worried him. It was the actions of Ryu, who he knew from prior experience as a mostly honorable, friendly, sort… And who obviously had been controlled by someone else up until the very end of his fight. Someone who specialized in illusions of the past. Someone who obviously wasn’t rooting for Snake in his battle. In other words, Sephiroth. With every day, the puzzle of Sephiroth took shape more and more to Solid Snake… And with his recent win, he had four days. Four days to find the answer, and to stop whatever evil was taking place here… Or at least warn whoever was sane that remained. The only problem was… Snake was, at the moment, somewhat sidetracked. Memories of the past returned to him, suddenly, memories of Liquid, Raven, Otacon, and… Meryl. Snake was far from an emotionless, aloof, “badass” mentor… He had his own experiences that humbled and saddened him, fights he had lost, people he should have saved, and directions in life that he should have followed. And Snake didn’t exactly forget about them in the long sessions he had spent in this tourney alone, in his room or at the bar, and thinking. Snake wasn’t a superhuman. In his world, he was a legend… But so were all of the nine that remained. When it came down to it, Solid Snake was just another flawed human being. And that had been proven today, when Sephiroth had been one bullet away from exposing that flaw. Samus Aran hadn’t had the best of days, either. She was a friend to all of the remaining combatants, or, at least, those who would accept a friend, but she was perhaps closest with Snake. In a romantic way? Hardly... Not here, not now. But friendly enough that watching his match today, seeing his hardly minor scuffle with Ryu, had thrown her for a major loop. She’d been knocking on the door of his room many times this night, trying to get inside, to talk, but Snake was somewhere else, be it mentally or physically, or just didn’t want to talk. She had retreated to her room after a few hours of pacing, and was likely now asleep. That in itself was a shock… It was only 8:30 at night. Bounty hunters were hardly the early to bed type. Sonic the Hedgehog would likely have talked, if he could have only found someone to talk to. Nothing ever had really dampened the speedy hedgehog’s spirits for long, not even the events concerning Bowser, Aeris, and Cloud, and his very emotional battle with Aeris. He got over any sadness he felt at breaking Aeris and Cloud apart very quickly… He was once again his free spirited, arrogant self. The problem was, no one else was. So at the moment, Sonic was probably in his second floor room in the mansion that housed the players, complaining to no one in particular about something. But that doesn’t really count as talking, per se. Cloud Strife was training. Ever since Aeris, his last real companion and person to talk to, left the game, he had retreated back to his old, warlike, stoic habits from his pre AVALANCHE days, and had simply trained. And trained. And trained some more. With Aeris gone, he was here for only one reason now… To win. Or to at least make sure Sephiroth didn’t. Mega Man, like Sonic, was not silent or unsociable out of choice. Mega Man simply didn’t have anyone to talk to. As far as battle skills went, Mega Man had every right to be here, on the eve of a match that could land him in the Elite Eight. He’d proven it, whether it was against Sigma, Dr. Wily, or someone that he had left unconscious at the hands of his Mega Buster during this tournament. But his social skills were… lacking. His only friend, only person that really looked at him as anything more than someone he or she or it would have to beat, was Samus… And she was spending less time with him of late. Mega Man, like Sonic, was lonely. In a way, their positions were very similar… They were young, confident, and perhaps not as learned in the ways of the world as the other combatants… They might not hang out at the Hero’s Haunt or engage in the heated battles in the training center. Maybe they would have been friends if they didn’t have the utmost scorn for each other. Those who are both young and very alike in temperament never do get along, and Mega Man and Sonic were truly no exception. Link and Sephiroth… No one knew exactly where they were. Probably out on a random hill, retreating inside themselves, or, in Link’s case, inside a brain drove mad by the workings of a wicked mask, into worlds of hate. Certainly not in a conversation with anyone. Porta Dei was very quiet this night. But as usual, Tommy Vercetti would be happy to change that, in his own ever-unique way. Vercetti, after what had both seemed like and practically been an eternity, finally noticed his martini, sitting abandoned on the table in front of him. The mob boss never had been one to let good alcohol go to waste, and though he was hardly in the mood to have a drink today… What the hell. Let’s see if that “drowning your sorrows in a drink” thing works. Tommy took a long, deep drink of the heavily alcoholic liquid before him. It wasn’t the strongest stuff he had ever experienced in his years, but it was good anyway. Of course, it had been made just for him… Whoever had mixed all the drinks at this bar obviously had tons of information about everyone… Because whoever you were, even in the case of some of the quirkier characters from this tourney’s past, your favorite drink was served in this bar, better than you had ever tasted it before. Except for Vercetti, that is. He’d had better drinks before, but whatever omniscient being ruled over this tournament was obviously not anxious to let Tommy Vercetti near too much alcohol. Vercetti hadn’t been truly drunk for the whole tournament… Well, not in his viewpoint. Ten seconds of a martini. For people not skilled in holding their liquor, they’d be out like a light with that within an hour or so. For Tommy Vercetti, it wasn’t anything at all. He could have had three more of what he had just guzzled, and he’d still be his normal, “sane”, self. Ignoring what he had just drank, and obviously not effected by it, the mob boss turned to his companion, the Italian plumber. “Feeling alright, then, Mario? All those wounds healed up?” Mario’s eyes blinked open, as he arose from his stupor. The plumber hadn’t been asleep, he’d just been deep in thought for the past hour… Hoping that Crono was okay… Wondering what he’d be up against next round… Just counting down the minutes. “I’m-a… alright. I’m-a just surprised that it came-a to that.” “I don’t think any of us were expectin the red-haired kid to go nuts like that, Mario. Shocked me, too. Hey… Ya figured out what went wrong with him yet? “I’m not-a sure. I talked to Cloud… He thinks it’s-a Sephiroth.” “…Seph-e-roth? Which one of them demigods is he? The vampire? The winner from last year gone bad? The silver-haired freak? The robot?” “The one-a with the black cape and-a the wing.” It took Tommy Vercetti a few seconds to realize who Mario was talking about. This would not have surprised those that knew Vercetti, as Tommy was hardly good with names… It was surprising that Vercetti, who had no previous dealings with Sephiroth, even knew who he was. Maybe that was just a sign of the rampant paranoia around town. Through Snake, or Cloud, or Sonic, everyone would end up knowing all of the latest rumors about whatever was going on today, especially what sightings there had been of the Hylian and the SOLDIER, the two wandering combatants. All of the beings that still remained in the tournament were battle-hardened veterans. And they were all nervous. They had faced monsters that most don’t even see in their darkest nightmares before… But that didn’t make them feel any better about the one-winged angel. …Well, not all of those remaining were nervous. Tommy Vercetti wasn’t. “Geez, Mario. What’s the deal with this guy, anyway? Is he going to kill us in our sleep or something? Whether it’s the robot, that ****ed up hedgehog, or even Snake, everyone’s acting like they just signed their damned name on that black caped weirdo’s hit list!” Mario was even able to crack the tiniest little bit of a smile at this. “Maybe you’re-a right… But I didn’t think-a that you’d-a be the one to say that…” “What? Am I some kinda **********’ coward because I don’t live in a world where I get ta beat up the same freaks as the rest of you? That’s bull****. Do I look scared to you, Mario?” That was what was the truly ironic thing about this tournament. By now, it had gotten down to the truly tough, the truly savvy, the true fighters of the group. And Tommy Vercetti, the one among them that likely faced the least supernatural and threatening foes out of all of them, was the one that was truly fearless in all this. If someone that was talking with the gangster had brought up their fears or worries about the tournament, or asked him about it, he’d just shrug, make a characteristic swear or two about not giving a damn, and keep on talking. Tommy Vercetti wasn’t scared… Who would have thought it? He was a “simple” mob boss, here with a stealth agent who knew secrets that would boggle most minds, an intergalactic bounty hunter, a swordsman that was hero of an entire world, a cocky hedgehog with supersonic speed, and the man who had defeated the sinister creature that everyone was living in fear of… And he was the one that was entirely calm about the whole situation that all nine of those remaining in the tourney found themselves in. Mario finally brought up enough courage to continue his conversation. In battle, and in all the adventures he had in the Mushroom Kingdom, Mario had never been someone that you could call cowardly. Whether it was Bowser or someone much more sinister and strong, Mario would be there to defeat them. But in conversation, in the social part of life, Mario had always been more timid and down-to-earth than anything else. In other words… The total opposite of Tommy Vercetti. At first, and even sometimes now, Mario had never been fully comfortable around Tommy… They were just so different. But what was that old saying? Crisis makes strange bedfellows. “I-a… guess you’re-a right. Sometimes, the rest of us just look at-a things different. None of us come-a from the same place-a.” Tommy Vercetti grunted. “Maybe that’s a good thing. I mean, ****, nothin against ya or anything, Mario, but I don’t think I’d really be able to get along with ya back in Vice City. My… associates back home, they’d take me to a shrink as soon as they heard we were friends.” “…Thanks-a, Tommy. But what’s a… shrink-a?” Tommy shook his head. Geez. I think I could go to friggin Beijing and have an easier time talkin to someone. Who the hell picked these sixty-three weirdoes? I gotta meet him once this whole circus ends. “They make sure that your head’s screwed on right. …Wait… Ya don’t get that either, do ya? Never mind, Mario.” Mario and Vercetti got along. Perhaps it was the Italian connection, perhaps their personalities just allowed it. But as much as they were friends with each other, even after all this time, neither could really understand the other. Mario was a plumber that had spent most of his life in a land that most people in Vice City never even saw after ten shots of heavy alcohol. Tommy was a swearing, murdering mob tycoon from a world of violence and strife. Nothing in common, right? Wrong. Friendships had sprung up between a mob boss and a robot, a hedgehog and a sullen hero, an ugly mole and a beautiful summoner over the course of this tournament. Vercetti and Mario and their meetings for drinks were hardly all that Tommy downed another gulp of the heavily alcoholic beverage in front of him, just out of habit. “Anyway, Mario, my man. I’m just glad you’re still here. That fight where you were facing the red-haired kid… I was worried for ya there.” “It’s-a nothing, Tommy. Crono is my friend… We fought-a last year, and it was-a very nice and everything.” “Yeah? Could have fooled me. Looked to me like the ****er was trying to kill you out there.” Mario hung his head. There’s no-a denying that… What-a happened to him. “Maybe he had one of those ****ed up mind trips. Hell, he wouldn’t be the first one… That little bastard of a hedgehog turned into a…” Tommy Vercetti wasn’t able to finish his list without a hurt interruption from Mario. “What-a did you call-a Sonic? He’s-a nice! He-a helped when we-a were getting the girl back!” Tommy Vercetti’s temper was gradually starting to flare up. It wasn’t like that change in temperament was too uncommon in the real world, where like all mobsters, Vercetti’s temper would go off at the smallest things. But here… Nothing had really gotten him that angry. That is, until he got left out of the loop, and people like Sonic, that arrogant little hedgehog that just enjoyed himself by taunting the others, got left in. Tommy Vercetti still hadn’t forgotten Sonic for the times that the blue hedgehog had made a fool out of him, in the days before Tommy had really settled down from his criminal impulses. Before he had made friends with Snake, and Vyse, and Max, and Mario, Vercetti had still tried to stick to his old ways from Vice City. Now, he didn’t know if he could ever go back. But… The temperament was still there, deep inside him. “Sonic? I can’t believe you and that spike-haired guy got along with that little ****. He’s only thinking of himself, cause he’s so god damn selfish… Kind of like me when I was young.” "Well-a… He was-a useful. And…” Tommy Vercetti finally decided to return the favor from Mario’s earlier interruption… And his temper continued to get shorter. “Useful? Geez, Mario, I thought you guys were beyond that. Why didn’t you think to ask me about it?” Mario was silent for a moment. Mario liked being Tommy Vercetti’s friend… But the plumber was much smarter than he looked. He wasn’t as innocent and unknowing of people like Tommy Vercetti as people thought he was, and he wasn’t going to shoot himself in the foot. At this stage, with the tournament as cutthroat as it was… Mario just needed a friend. “Eh… It’s alright, Mario. ****. It happened. You just gotta tell me if you do somethin like that again. …Anyway… That’s not what I came ta talk to ya about. I came to tell ya… Watch out, in case I leave tomorrow. This guy you’re facing against, ya saw what he did to the minds of people like yer red-haired friend, Max, Snake, the vampire… Mario, just don’t get killed. You’re a good guy, ya don’t deserve it.” “You-a too, Tommy. Be careful out-a there.” Tommy Vercetti brought his almost empty glass up to his lips. Just one sip of the alcohol remained… And then he’d have to find something else to do the drink’s job for the rest of the night. Maybe one of them punching bags’ll do the ****ing trick. Vercetti tilted the glass towards him, ready for his last little sip of the night. Suddenly, he paused, and brought the shimmering glass goblet to the center of the table. He raised the glass up and looked over it at Mario. “Cheers.” "Resolution" Two hours later...... Sephiroth stood watching the portals, the two guys whom he had scared the hell out of the other day, had been charged with the task of returning Ryu to his dimension. Sephiroth stood in the portal room, looking deep into the portal as if waiting for some response. His face was not his usual placid expression of pensiveness, but a scowl of distaste. The two grunt workers carefully edged by the man in black. Sephiroth watched as they picked up Ryu’s body, and began to swing it back and forth. He looked over the body, there were 5 or 6 bullet holes in the body. The blood on the wounds had crusted over, and turned brown. The son of Jenova couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of satisfaction at the warrior’s pitiful state. The two workers tossed Ryu through the circular portal, an ominous humming sound filled the room, for a moment and then fell silent. The two workers slowly walked past him trying to avoid him as much as possible and then scrambling out the door. Sephiroth continued to stare at the portal, waiting for an explanation. He felt like he might as well have been the one tossed through blue gate. He had beaten you, not through his own power, but by your own carelessness, Akuma’s words continued to ring through his mind. With the power of Sephiroth and Ryu combined Snake was nothing, Sephiroth could’ve destroyed him easily. He had felt it. One single blow to the head would’ve ended the match, Akuma was already out of the way, and Evil Ryu was still in his meditation. He could’ve had complete control, he could’ve had the body do whatever he wanted, assassinate Cloud or Link, destroy Megaman, anything, but his ego had deemed that unnecessary, and that the fool Snake should suffer before his death. That is why you have lost so much, because you believe you are some sort of god, but remember this Sephiroth, while your power maybe godly, you are mortal. Sephiroth frowned at the statement. In his world there had been only one who had even remotely challenged his prowess, but in this dimension, there were many. He was sickened by the truth of the statement, he was definitely more powerful than anyone here, but the amount was much less than he had originally thought. He was continually being surprised by them. Crono, Snake, Alucard, even Ryu had shown power far greater than Sephiroth had predicted. Sephiroth scowled, then left the room, looking up into the night sky. Soon I will take control of the Porta Dei, and with it the cure to my disease of mortality. Soon, I will become what I was always destined to be. He slowly walked back to the encampment, not in any hurry. He finally arrived in the arena, the rubble from the battle still scattered across the ground of the arena. He walked to the center and stood at the center. He had been humiliated today, but it would not happen again. He would show the world, the extent of his power, he would show them all. He would redeem himself in three short days. The one called Mario would be made to pay the price of his redemption. Vercetti waited until the nurse passed and then turned the corner, looking very inconspicious in his purple soiree in the otherwise white hospital, besides he even had sunglasses. He saw the room he wanted into, and started walking toward it, suddenly the door handle moved. Vercetti turned and acted like he was reading a chart on the human anatomy. He forcibly resisted making comments about the female diagram. The doctor rounded the corner, so Vercetti turned and walked over to the room, he looked around to see if anyone was there, and then quietly slipped into the room. Solid Snake was on the bed, flat out unconscious, his match had ended not three hours ago. Vercetti slowly walked over to his bed, one hand concealed in his pants pocket. He walked over to the bed, once again checking to make sure nobody was looking and then leaned down toward’s Snake’s bed. Suddenly a hand shot out from under the sheets and clutched Vercetti’s throat, “Whaddya want Vercetti?” Snake asked politely, but squeezing Vercetti’s throat even harder. “Snake,” Vercetti choked out, “Glad....to....see...you up....and...about.” Snake squeezed a little more, signifying he asked for a reason, not a greeting. He looked down at Vercetti’s hand, which was still in his pocket. “What’s in your pocket, buddy,” Snake interrogated. “My....pocket?” asked Vercetti, beginning to turn a little blue. “Oh....right...” he pulled his hand from his pocket revealing a deck of cards. “P....poker?” --- Vercetti sat down at the table, a glass of bourbon sat next to his plate of ribs on the table. Samus wasn’t eating anything as usual, and also as usual was in her suit, sans her helmet. Mario, with a plate of pasta piled so high that it prevented him from observing anything else on the table, not that he would’ve been paying any attention to it anyway. Vercetti tore the meat off a rib, getting barbecue sauce all over his mouth, “So, where the hell is Snake?” he said not even bothering to wipe his mouth. Samus looked at him for a moment or two, not really disgusted, more disappointed then said, “Did you even watch the match today? Do you think you could be out of the hospital in 4 hours?” “Sure could,” mumbled Vercetti through another mouthful of meat. “How long was it until you were out of the hospital after your match with that Storm dude?” “It was Squall, and it was 2 hours, but in all fairness I only had a couple of cuts, not severe internal damage,” Samus defended. “Don’t kid yourself babe, junior ****ed you up pretty good, if I had medics like that back at my mansion in Vice, **** I could run the Cubans and Haitians out of town in a week,” Vercetti said, diving into his third rib. Samus began to respond when she was interupted by a voice at the table, “A-finished!” proclaimed to short italian plumber in his cheery sense. Samus and Vercetti both examined the plate where not five minutes ago, a metric ton of pasta had rested upon the porcelain platter, but now there was nothing. They both moved their gaze from the plate to Mario, and simultaneously shook their heads. The moment was broken up by the scraping of the chair legs on the wooden floor, they all looked over to see Snake, a cigarette in his mouth, sitting down at the table. “Well, what are we waiting for deal the cards,” he said tossing some cash down on the table for chips. Vercetti wasn’t doing too bad for himself, he was already 750$ up, which was way better than he usually did against Samus. Mario’s complete inability to not do a dance when he had a good hand, or cry when he had a bad one, had sent him out early again. The three remaining people sat at the table, Vercetti was almost done with his story about getting betrayed by Lance Vance, and also almost done with his 9th bourbon. “So then, that piece of **** Sonny comes all the ****ing way down from Liberty, demanding a cut of my ****ing action. Naturally, I gave his fat ass counterfeit bills, but my partner, my ****ing partner sells me out to that rat **** from up north,” Vercetti slurred looking at his cards and putting them back down. The advantage of being drunk was that he lacked the facial control to lose his poker face. Snake and Samus were a little surprised, they had all wrote Vercetti off as this heartless bastard who didn’t care about anyone but himself. This opening up was quite a shock even to two experienced fighter’s like themselves. “So, I killed him. I blew his ****ing head off with a shotgun from 3 feet away. I even looked into his eye’s when I killed him. Me and Lance....we ****ing took over that town together. When I was in a bind, I knew he had my ****ing back. We were ****ing tight as brothers, I’ve lost count of the amount of times we’d saved each other’s asses. He had my ****ing back. Then, I had to kill him. I had to kill the first person I’d ever really trusted since I got out of the ****ing slammer,” Vercetti said, slinking back down into his chair. He picked up the glass of bourbon and chucked it down his throat. He sat looking at the table, not even at his card’s anymore, after a few moments of that he spun around in an attempt to order another drink but lost his balance and toppled his chair over. Samus and Snake quickly glanced at each other and then walked over and picked him up. Samus grabbed his shoulder and yanked him of the ground, “Come on, Vercetti. You’ve had enough.” Vercetti lashed out trying to get free of her and Snake’s grasp, “**** you!.....It’s never enough.” Snake and Samus dragged Vercetti back to the mansion, about half way there he insisted he was sober enough to walk, and took over that responsibility for himself for about three seconds before he face planted into the ground, and Samus and Snake picked him up, and carried him into his room. Snake and Samus walked over and put Vercetti on the bed. Samus chuckled, “My, what a lovely evening.” “Haven’t done this since college,” Snake responded, then he looked down at Vercetti who was almost out now. He smacked him in the face lightly to bring him back around. “Vercetti, you’ve got a match tomorrow, you can’t have a hangover for it.” “Don’t worry, man,” Vercetti mumbled. “I’ve had enough alcohol in my life that I need to drink a lot more than I did tonight to get a hangover.” “Still though,” Snake persisted. “Take a cold shower tonight, and have a couple of cups of coffee, that’ll help whatever effects of the alcohol get past your high tolerance. Your opponent tomorrow isn’t someone you fight at anything less than your best.” “‘the **** is the point of even going,” Vercetti belched out. “What?” said Snake and Samus simultaneously. “I’ve seen that ****er against that Zelda slut. He’s got more firepower than a ****ing Rhino, I’ve got no ****ing shot against that bastard. That and I just gotta bad feeling about this,” he pointed at both Snake and Samus. “You two both know the feeling, the feeling that your **** just ain’t straight. The smart thing to do would be to ****ing forfeit the match take my sizeable ****ing cash prize, and get my ass back to Vice.” Snake stared at him for a moment. “Fine, if you wanna be a ****ing woman, be a ****ing woman, but if you were a man, you’d kick is his ****ing ass.” Samus was flat out shocked by Snake’s use of profanity, as well as gender discrimination, but she’d heard plenty of that. Vercetti seemed equally shocked. Snake started walking towards the door, and gestured at Samus to follow. Right before the two left the room, Vercetti shouted at them, “Hey Snake!” They both turned around, “You should come to the match tomorrow, because I’m gonna kick his ****in’ ass.” Snake smiled at the drunken mobster, then shut the door, leaving him to sleep. He waited outside for a moment until he heard the sound of a shower running on the other side of the door, then he and Samus left the building. Samus and Snake walked side by side down the hall of the mansion. They walked in silence, but it wasn’t awkward, there was just nothing to say. Finally, they reached the intersection where the two parted ways. Samus started walking down stairs, Snake stopped her by asking, “Where are you going?” “Got a match in two days, Snake. Against a psycho that takes order’s from a mask he wears. My suit isn’t fully repaired from my fight against Squall, and I just took a 5 hour break from my training. I have to get back to work,” she started to walk down the stairs again. “Hey, Samus,” Snake called out to her. She looked back to see what he wanted. “Cloud told me about the force barriers. I just wanted to say thanks for covering my back.” The bounty hunter smiled kindly back at Snake. “Anytime, Snake,” she responded, then walked down the stairs to continue her training. --- Ryu’s body thudded against wooden planks. He snapped back into conciousness in a second and kicked out. He felt the kick connect with something and kipped up, opening his eyes. His vision was blurred, he couldn’t see anything clearly, but he could make out a body, slowly getting up in front of him. He dropped into his fighting stance and prepared to engage them. “Who are you, what do you want.” His vision was slowly coming back, he could now make out the red suit the unknown person was wearing. “Geez, calm down, Ryu,” said the suddenly familiar voice. Ryu, left his stance as his vision came back, and he could see the familiar blonde hair of his friend Ken. “Ken, sorry, my vision was blurred.” He looked around, he was at a dock. A large wooden one that extended 100 feet into the ocean. At the end of the dock on the land side was a ominous looking forest. Suddenly he felt a tremendous pain in his forehead, and he gripped it tight, collapsing to one knee. “Hey man, are you okay?” asked Ken. “I mean, I was a little disoriented after the shift, but I didn’t really feel any pain, what happened?” “I don’t remem....” Ryu remembered half way through his sentence. “I was shot in the head in my match,” he said flatly, he looked up at Ken after the pain had subsided. “Wait, what are you doing here?” “Well,” said Ken, “This is where I came out, so I’ve just been coming back here on the days I remembered you having matches. This means you made it to round 3 right?” “Yeah,” it does. The memories from the other dimension began coming back to him. They weren’t pleasant ones. “Wait,” said Ken, a little angrily, “Does that mean that Solid Snake guy shot you in the head? That son of a.....I put him past that.” Ryu ignored Ken’s anger, “I’m sure he had a good reason.” Suddenly he felt a twitch of all too familiar ki, from the forest. “What does that mean?” demanded Ken, now confused as well as angry. Ryu didn’t respond he looked into the forest. The angle of the sun had covered the forest in shadows with small rays of gold piercing through. He stared into the forest for nearly a minute, Ken was looking too. “What are you looking for Ryu?” Ken asked suddenly very serious, having also felt an eerie presence. Ryu and Ken stared into the forest until a pair of crimson eye’s pierced through the shadows. “Akuma!” Ken yelled dropping into his fighting stance. Ryu however didn’t prepare for a fight. He just returned the gaze. The warrior once known as Gouki emerged from the forest, his feet treading softly on the wooden planks of the dock, his eye’s locked on Ryu’s. “What do you want, Akuma?!” Ken demanded. “Nothing from you,” Akuma taunted, not breaking the gaze of Ryu. “Well then what?” Ken asked again. He looked over at Ryu and was a little surprised to see him so calm. Akuma walked right past Ken, and up to right in front of Ryu. He stared down into his eye’s for several seconds and then began to laugh. “Hahahahhaa!!! So it is true then, I was beginning to think it was all an illusion or dream.” “Yes, but that is behind me now, Gouki. You no longer have control of me,” said Ryu placidly, staring into Akuma’s eyes with an unwavering stare. “That’s true, but I feel your control has weakened, you can’t contain your true self forever Ryu.” “I am in complete control, you never would’ve taken control of me if he hadn’t helped you.” “That also may be true, but in that other dimension your mind is weaker, and now our connection has grown stronger, beware Ryu, this will not be the last time that Evil Ryu awakened,” Akuma said. Akuma took one short step backwards followed by another and then seemingly disappeared into thin air. Ryu and Ken stood motionless and silent on the docks, finally Ken spoke up, “He awoke Evil Ryu from our dimension?” “No,” Ryu stated. “He had help.” “What does that mean?” Ken asked compassionately. “It means I need to train harder,” Ryu said, still gazing at the forest. “Well, man, I gotta get back. Eliza’ll kill me if I stay out for three whole days like I did for the second round. I guess I’ll see you at latest for the next contest, right?” Ken asked, holding out his hand in a fist. Ryu looked into the forest for a few more moments and then punched it home with his friend Ken Masters, “You know it.” ~Fin~ Next Entry Back |