Gaia, Friday Evening

[puppy_fair]

Zack	Zack had been here before, sent to this very same place on a mission not long back, to help remove the last remnants of the war against Wutai. The Wutai lost. But they were holding a grudge against him. And Zack was fine with that. They could loathe him all that they wanted. They could come after him in the streets, they could ambush him on missions, they could threaten to have his head all that they wanted. Maybe he even deserved it. But even Zack Fair had a line. Even he had his snapping points. He knew that they'd taken Ino in an attempt to get to him. He knew that he was walking headfirst into a trap. He didn't care. There were some lines that you didn't cross. His hands were set in tight fists at his sides as he strode into the cavern that the Wutai Crescent Unit had taken over as their base of operations. Some puppies grew up to be rottweilers.
Rosalind	As per her orders, Rosalind was there, unseen and unheard and keeping a cautious distance from Zack. Rosalind would not have believed it had she not been watching it. Zack's reputation within ShinRa was along the lines of noting his impulsiveness, his cheerfulness, and the consensus was that he wasn't the brightest bulb in the lamp. It very rarely touched on the fact that while he wasn't the brightest, he could still burn. Which would be why she found herself wincing in anticipation as a Wutai soldier materialized out of the cave.
Zack	Zack didn't draw his sword, at first. Zack simply regarded the man with a sort of blank, passive expression on his face that masked anything that he might have been thinking, anything that he could possibly have felt. But the man got closer, and that proved to be his lethal mistake. There was a reason that Zack usually only made use of the blunt side of the Buster Sword, and that reason was because this Buster Sword, when in the hands of a SOLDIER who could properly wield it, could easily cleave a man in two. It returned to its place on Zack's back after a quick one-handed spin over his head. Funny how a gesture that he used so often to show off with was so useful for quickly ridding the blade of any clinging droplets of blood, so that it wouldn't rust before he could properly clean it. After all, he wouldn't want any wear or tear on this one. He pressed onward.
Rosalind	It was a peculiar thing to wonder if, perhaps, when they'd created SOLDIER if they'd done it too well. She slipped from her hiding spot, spent a few precious seconds studying the very very dead Wutai with dispassionate, closed off eyes--long enough to remember, long enough to give any details that Tseng and Verdot would want from her--and then slipped further on. And let the shadows take her. Her job was to watch.
Phantasma	And his job was to kill Zack Fair. While he'd taken care of their brethren, may Leviathan have mercy on their souls, they had been the greenest, most untried, of the Crescent. He would not make the same mistakes they had. After all, he was an elite of the Crescent Unit. Phantasma hefted his bladed gun and smiled grimly. Death to the ShinRa. Death to Zack Fair.
Zack	At first, Zack barely seemed to notice the man that had stepped out in front of him. His eyes scanned him from head to toe in a quick glance, and then he shrugged and moved forward. When he spoke, his voice was cool, clear, and perhaps a little hollow. He had no reason to smile. Not for this man. "Tell me where she is." This was not a request.
Phantasma	The bladed gun was twirled around, so that the broader, more axe-like blade was pointed at Zack. Phantasma smirked, though only the barest hint of that could be noticed. There was no mistaking the cold, dark humour in his voice. "She's otherwise occupied."
Zack	Wrong answer. The sword was being pulled from Zack's back as the computerized voice in his mind announced that Combat Mode was being activated. It seemed almost surreal, the nearly pleasant tone of the voice serving stark contrast against the dark haze that seemed to settle around the edges of Zack's mind, until it was just his hands, his sword, his magic, and his opponent. Zack was SOLDIER. SOLDIER was the fight. "Where. Is. Ino?" His fingertips were glowing. There was a Firaga coming, less than a heartbeat away.
Phantasma	Less than a heartbeat away was time enough for Phantasma to dodge quickly, whipping his gun out to shoot quickly, scattering bullets with exacting aim. This was a fight that the Wutai had no intentions of losing. "Being treated the way she should be treated," Phantasma sneered, and lunged, swinging his blade viciously.
Zack	It was reflex alone that sent Zack tumbling to the floor, managing to avoid the brunt of the bullets. Those that didn't miss didn't seem to bother him so much. Bullets biting through skin and muscle... what in the world were they to a SOLDIER? And then Zack was on his feet again, Buster Sword in hand, and he was charging. You did not say things like that to Zack Fair. He could forgive the bullets. Shoot at him all you like. But talking about Ino that way... If nothing else, he supposed as he swung the sword down hard at his opponent, that statement suggested that she was still alive. A slight glimmer of hope, though it didn't do anything for the shades of red that he was seeing.
Phantasma	Quick as a whip, Phantasma raised his weapon to block the sword. He staggered under the force of the blow, being forced to take several steps back that he'd not wanted to. And yet, he was smiling faintly. This rage, this pain, Zack Fair deserved to feel. What was his pain and rage compared to that of sorely wounded Wutai? He deserved this. Phantasma gripped his weapon and shoved, trying to get the space to manoeuvre.
Zack	Zack's heels dug in, and he slid backwards all of a fraction of an inch against the stone floor of the cavern. It was a fraction more than he wanted to. His teeth grit. "You shouldn't have touched her," he said, in a voice so low, it hardly seemed to belong to Zack at all. "Not if it's me you want."
Phantasma	Heh. Phantasma's grin was fierce and vicious. "It worked," he pointed out, arrogance colouring his voice, distorting it. "That was what we wanted. Her fate is of little consequence." She was just a silly little girl, after all. And quickly, back and down came the gun again with a spray of bullets.
Zack	These bullets, Zack was entirely too close to be able to dodge, and his teeth ground together as they tore through his chest, point blank. Not enough to kill a SOLDIER, not by a long shot, but certainly enough to make this more difficult for him than he'd hoped it was going to be. But it meant, too, that his next Firaga was entirely too close to be avoided, in turn. He'd worry about the bleeding all over himself thing in a bit. He had potions, after all.
Phantasma	And, oh, that Firaga was effective. Not effective enough to kill him, but enough to wound him severely. Potions would fix that. Later. He was still standing and he was still angry. "For Wutai," he said, grated, and flung himself at the SOLDIER, his blade flashing.
Zack	"Wutai," Zack hissed, ducking the blade and rushing the Crescent member, shoulder-first, "surrendered." Zack was not a malicious person. Not usually. But if there was any way that he could rub salt into that particular wound today, he was going to take it. And he understood the Wutai well enough now, to understand the implications of that word. Surrender. And he hoped that the sound of that word stung half as much as they'd made Ino hurt.
Phantasma	Not hardly, but then he had no idea how much pain the little slip of a girl--of a killer--had been caused. Circulus was taking particular pleasure in keeping her occupied. A step back, then another. Unwillingly forced back by the strength of the SOLDIER. "Wutai still fights for its honour."
Zack	"Kidnapping," Zack replied, his voice catching, raising until he was yelling loudly enough to attract the attention of anyone within a three-mile radius, "isn't honorable!" ... Zack was perhaps still not completely aware of the full job description of the Turks. This was possibly for the best.
Phantasma	"For the sake of Wutai," Phantasma grated, and swung his bladed gun at Zack, "our honour will be sacrificed." Joyously. For the sake of Wutai.
Zack	You know, Zack was starting to get really, really sick of Wutai. One hand lifted, grabbing the gun at the barrel with little to no concern for the wicked blade at the end. "And there's where you'll always fall short," Zack intoned, his tone deepening a little more as his eyes flicked toward the Buster Sword. "You've stopped protecting your honor." He yanked his arm back, hard, to pull the weapon clear from the Wutai's hands.
Phantasma	The weapon went flying and Phantasma dodged backwards, eyes alight with reverent belief that this was right and that even though he was likely to die, it would be for the good of Wutai. The grenades he threw, underfoot, were his only other weapon.
Zack	And the grenades didn't do much good against Zack, either. They were laughable, to SOLDIER. Throw a few more, Phantasma. Zack had faced off against the likes of gods and dragons, and had come out the victor. He threw the weapon away, his lip curling a little in distaste, and then he launched himself at the Crescent operative, aiming to tackle him to the floor, to pin him, to pummel him with a hail of fists. So. Sick. Of Wutai. He wanted Ino back.
Phantasma	And down they went, in a heavy clatter of metal and armour and while he knew this was the end of him, Phantasma was still smiling. The SOLDIER was here. They would have their revenge. In the meantime, before he died, he'd give as good as he got. Steel gauntlets were sharp enough to hurt easily and he was not holding back.
Zack	Zack hardly expected him to. Who in their right mind would hold back while there was so much SOLDIER suddenly on top of them, hell-bent on beating their face into a bloody mess? The bladed edge of the gauntlet bit into Zack's face. It was negligible. It wouldn't so much as leave a scar, once he took a potion for it. One scar on his face was enough, and this man sure as hell hadn't earned the right to leave that sort of mark. Zack's answer to the blood dribbling down his cheek was another strong punch. And then a Blizzaga, cast over the man's head as Zack scrabbled out of the way. He didn't bother to so much as look back before making his way deeper into the cavern, this time at a run. Anyone stupid enough to get into his way was going to have a stampeding SOLDIER and a very large sword to contend with. Best of luck with that.
Rosalind	And luck, they swore, both individually and as one entity, would be with them. The caves contained more Wutai, all members of the Crescent Unit, than the quiet of them hinted at. Wave upon wave of them, always broken down into groups of three, four, six. All of them angry and fighting for their country. All of them culpable in the kidnapping of one small blonde girl who'd somehow wound up being the center of the world to one very, very pissed off SOLDIER. None of them were repentant. Some had never even seen her. Or heard her. The caves were large enough that her screams did not travel all that far comparatively. They came. A restless, furious, almost exalting wave of men doing what they thought was right. Metal gleaming under the light of the torches, helmets on securely, gauntlets fastened tight and weapons at the ready. All to face down one man in particular. And that one man mowed them down with singular intensity. Always with the same question on his lips, in his eyes that were so dark with fury as to be nearly black in spite of their perpetual glow of blue. Over and over the nearly cheerful voice in his head activated combat and over and over he won, leaving the bodies of the fallen behind him and pressing onward. He paused to tend to his injuries only when they proved to be enough to begin slowing him down. Curaga meant he healed quickly and completely. Still bloody, still having lost that blood, but otherwise unharmed. He'd handled worse. Only then. And only because if he slowed down, he wouldn't be able to get Ino out of this hellhole, this nightmare cave of Wutai and more Wutai, all with the same light in their eyes. He was both tired of them and hating them. He never had before, always had simply focused on the mission at hand and kept from hatred. There was no need for it. Until they'd gone and crossed lines that he found utterly unacceptable, lines that he'd thought were so obvious that the idea of someone crossing them had never, ever taken root in his head. Touching her, to Zack, meant they would die, as countless Wutai were finding tonight. Firaga roared through the cave bringing fiery hell with it. Skin blackened and crisped away from suddenly charred bodies. And then there were the screams of men who were burning alive inside their armour as metal conducted heat, intensified it, and there was no escaping from it. Fire raged and the ice... the ice crept. Blizzaga carried with it the cold, unrelenting child of death. Ice shards, as large as monsters themselves, splintered and crashed down on the heads of the enemy, crushing them with brutal and painful finality. Leaving men--no, no longer men, nothing but corpses, encased in ice that would take years to melt away entirely and where there wasn't ice, there was thunder. It crackled and burned with a brighter, purer light than fire did and while it burnt less on contact, the men it sent into screaming, uncontrollable spasms as the thunder played havoc with their nervous systems was no less effective for all of that. Their metal armour was a weakness to Thunder, conducting the electricity with painful, cruel efficiency and doing the utter opposite of protecting them. They fought on. The tireless SOLDIER with his eyes like the sky narrowed in furious remonstrance and steely determination. The hordes of Wutai, with their country's name on their lips and their pride held closely within their chests. Their hearts. Those hearts bled red as they died. Soaking the rock and gravel and splashing the walls with a nightmare artist's sense of design. Zack pressed on, blood-soaked but mostly unharmed, still furious, still asking his question. Where. Is. Ino. And raging when he got no answer to it. Deeper and deeper into the cave he went. Hacking brutally, viciously, with ingrained perfection in each blow. Those blows that hit him did not even jolt him out of his livid reverie. The slot machine in his head whirred and clicked into place and then, that was when the gods began appearing. Mighty Bahamut, wings spread wide and power evident. There was no place to flee and death, death came swiftly. Ifrit with an animal roar and then a rain of fire more deadly, even, then the Firaga that still raged at intervals. More summons and more deaths and more Wutai fell with each step Zack took. Death upon death and the only thing that mattered was that he hadn't, yet, found her. Onwards, then, until he'd searched every last inch of the caves. And killed every last man in them for daring to play a part in taking her away from him. Behind him, with the caution of a mouse, only doubled, trebled, quadrupled, followed a Turk whose duty it was to watch and learn and do nothing else.
Zack	It was a blue-eyed, bloody mess that finally stepped over the body of Crescent Unit Circulus, spotting Ino instantly and making a run, almost more a limp now that the danger was out of the way, to her side. Combat mode clicked off and his DMW stopped its spin. It was desperate, shaking hands that dug through his pockets for potions. He was a walking mess of blood and gore, as much his own as the Wutai's. She was worse, and it was all hers. "Hang in there, Ino," he murmured, pulling the stopper from a hi-potion and pressing it to her lips. "Please, hang in there..."
Ino	And her eyelids flickered--part of her awake, aware that something had changed, that she was still alive--and the rest of it, her still reeling under the pain that had taken up residence inside her skull instead of her. Everything hurt. The cool press of a open bottle to her lips hurt and the noise she made could only very generously be called a whimper with how little strength she had left. The taste--metallic, only if metal had been crossed with the worst tastes imaginable and then twisted to make it even worse--flooded her mouth and then she was choking, coughing, and that made everything hurt more. It was the first thing other than blood that she'd had to drink since Tuesday.
Zack	It was right about then that Zack realized that he'd made it this far, had left a trail of bodies in his wake, and suddenly he was more helpless than he'd ever been before. He'd burned through so many of his ethers on his way here, to be able to keep casting, to keep from falling before he'd ever made it this far. He had... maybe enough energy for a Cure left in him. A quick Materia swap, and he made an attempt at that. "Be okay," he murmured, begged, before reaching for the potion again. "Please, Ino? Please be okay?" There was entirely too much for one Cure to handle.
Ino	One Cure, one potion, and she was more aware of things than she'd been in days. Everything hurt and she was scared to move too much, wasn't sure if she had the ability to do that and withstand the fresh pain that would bring her right now. But someone very precious was calling her name and the darkness that beckoned her with seductive fingers had to be turned away from for at least a little longer. Blue, blue eyes fluttered open, filled with pain and something shattered, more fragile, but she was there and she was struggling to smile at him. It wasn't much, but she could do that. For him. "Z-Zack," her voice, little more than a cracked whisper seemed weirdly loud to her ears. But, there, she'd said his name, she'd smiled. And hopefully none of this was just a cruel, cruel dream.
Zack	Zack swallowed. His heart was refusing to beat at all. He was standing there, riddled with bullets and wounds from the blade of Crescent Unit Circulus, and he couldn't feel anything but afraid. "Sssh," he said, finally, reaching for her hand, then then pausing, just shy of it. Oh, her hands. He ran his fingers lightly down the length of her arm, instead. "I'm going to call for help, okay? You're safe, now."
Ino	A slow, very cautious nod, was all she could managed. Her hands had been hurt so badly, broken so badly, that they were blessedly, and worrisomely numb, only more of her was going numb and Ino didn't know, didn't care if that was because of him being there or if it was because her body was giving up the fight. That smile of hers lingered for a moment longer before she went entirely limp, relief and strain of the last few days taking their toll and sending her spiralling into unconsciousness. But she still breathed, and her chest still rose and fell with that breath. It was up to him, now.
Zack	Zack's eyes didn't leave her chest. Not for a second, not for a single heartbeat. So long as she was still breathing, so was he. That was what kept his voice calm and level, if numb, as he called Tseng, informed him that he was in need of an emergency pickup. Something as simple as that rise and fall. The entire world balanced on that. Tseng told him that there would be somebody along shortly. Zack didn't even remember thanking him. He didn't remember closing his phone and putting it back into his pocket, but he must have done that at some point, too. A Turk showed up, impossibly fast for the distance that she had to travel, but Zack didn't seem to notice Rosalind's speed. A heartbeat was too long, when you were measuring time by the count of somebody's laboured breaths. All there was anymore: Inhale. Exhale.

[NFI and NFB, played with and coded by the lovely give_areason who also wrote that lovely huge ping of crazy violent puppy. Warning: Contains descriptions of graphic violence and copious NPC death.]