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Culmination	By : Croik Category: +G through L > Guilty Gear Views: 2646 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Guilty Gear, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
Guilty
Gear, its characters and settings are property of Sammy Studios, and are being
used in this fanfiction without permission.
This fic is rated R for violence and sexual content, and it contains
yaoi material.

Wah! I really do have a thing for cliffhangers. Sorry ^^;;

Culmination
Chapter
23

The
factory was by now bathed in night, its courtyard a silent gravesite of dozens
of strewn robots. The building itself,
however, appeared far less than peaceful.
Though the last of the guards had fled a short time ago, explosions
could be heard echoing from different places up and down the structure, and
flashes of light sparked continuously from the wide glass windows on the
uppermost floor. Perched lightly on the
top of the six meter high wall were a pair of dark figures, watching intently
the indications of continued battle. One
was a woman, here eyes soft as her gaze wandered from the windows to the man at
her side. She cocked her head to the
side curiously.

The
man chuckled quietly; his hand slid up the line of her back, which made her
smile. �Not yet, my dear,� he said
easily as he continued to caress her spine.
�I think I�d like to watch, just a bit longer.�

*****

Though
the pair had not crossed blades in over fifty years, they met each other as if
fresh, each strike as deliberate and hateful as any they�d shared. Their grudge was not a personal one�to
Testament, the Ninth was nothing more than another extension of the Bureau he
despised, and to the Ninth this Gear merely one of the many obstacles that had
stood before him. Despite this they
challenged each other with all their resentment, so that each clash of their
weapons rang clearly in the confined room, echoing with the growls of
frustration each emitted whenever they failed to draw blood.

The
Ninth�s skill came not only from this strength, but his flexibility. Because his joints had been refined to
efficient machinery during his transformation decades ago he was able to move
with greater precision than his opponent, enabling him to hold odd positions
when he dodged and attacked. His balance
was impeccable. And though in a test of
brutality he may not have been the victor, with his speed to add to his already
toned and able body he made little effort in escaping the curved scythe.

Testament
snarled, unleashing a bout of powerful magic to drive his enemy back. He was struggling for control; if he was to
win this match he could not let himself be drawn into thoughtless aggression
and vengeance. But he couldn�t help that
their battleground was having an effect on him.
Every sound echoed hollowly in the metal room, reminding him too much of
the only other backdrop their fight had ever taken place before, until even the
pound of his heart sounded as if it were being thrown back to him.

�Familiar,
isn�t it?� the Ninth muttered, kicking a desk over so that it spilled its
computer and papers all about the floor.
He stepped over it, bits of glass from the monitor snapping under his
heel. �Fighting in this tiny, steel
room. I remember it very well.�

Testament
circled the man warily, scythe clutched in both hands as he tried to anticipate
what kind of attack would come next.
�You think that really matters now?� he retorted.

�I
think it does a great deal.� The Ninth
leapt at him, and their blades met, struggling against each other just in front
of their hardened faces. Both braced
their hands in an attempt to overpower the other. �Because I think you remember it just as well
as I do,� the Ninth continued as they struggled. �Do you want to know what I remember?�

�No.� Testament twisted his scythe, attempting to
catch the Ninth with its handle, but he anticipated the movement�the Ninth
caught the wood against his palm, directing it away from his body before
ramming the weapon back at its owner.
Testament gasped weakly as the skull adornment on its upper edge was
forced roughly into his gut and threw him back against the wall.

The
Ninth leapt back, landing easily on another desk as he allowed his opponent to
regain his breath. �I remember,� he went
on anyway, �finding you and the others after the tests were finished for the
day. Locked in your tiny cells, drugged,
naked, filthy.�

�Shut
up,� Testament hissed weakly, pawing at the wall to help him regain his
balance.

�I
remember the scientists trying to question you.
�How is it?� they would ask. �Do
you feel like you�re dying yet?��

Testament
shook his head, hair sticking to his neck and face as he began to sweat. Those words were seeping through him. �Shut up.�

�But
all you could do was scream.� Dark eyes
narrowed. �Ranting like a mad animal�.�

�Shut
up!�

Testament
charged, a sudden kick forcing the table out from under the man. The Ninth leapt clear before he could be
thrown and returned with an attack of his own, sword arching only to be caught
again on the scythe. This time they
didn�t stay there for long. Testament
twisted the handle of his weapon, using the leverage of its longer grip to
force the Ninth�s sword down. With his
enemy laid open he struck with a nameless blast of magic. Satisfaction curled in his stomach as he
watched the Ninth being thrown back, his skull striking the wall.

The
Ninth wilted, but only a moment�a hand against a nearby station steadied him
enough to fix Testament with a cold glare.
�You�re a goddamned animal,� he growled, righting himself. �A miserable waste of existence. You should all be destroyed!�

�And
you,� Testament countered, his palm already glowing in preparation of another
spell, �are the Bureau�s puppet. Why are
they doing this?� He started closer, but
the Ninth retreated, putting another desk between them. �What is their purpose?�

�So
you haven�t quite figured it all out yet.�
The Ninth raised his hand, launching a swift, concentrated ball of magic
at the Gear, who was already fully prepared to counter. Their energies collided and diffused against
each other. �Hmph. You surprise me.�

�Tell
me what this really is,� Testament insisted, his voice rising impatiently. �Are you really trying to turn Japanese into
robots? Like you?�

The
Ninth�s eyes narrowed just slightly, but that was the only indication of
surprise or anger he gave. �Yes,� he
replied shortly. �Just like me.�

He
turned suddenly, aiming his next burst of magic towards Testament�s companions,
still lying prone against the opposite wall.
Testament unleashed his own summons in an attempt to halt the assault; a
red beast rose from the ground, jaws gaping, and the impact of ki scattered its
remains until they at last disintegrated.

�The
procedure is difficult, but simple,� the Ninth drawled on. �The bones are mutated, giving them greater
strength and endurance. The blood is
replaced with billions of tiny nanomachines�much more effective than normal
cells when it comes to transporting oxygen among organs. Those who undergo the change are made
stronger, more efficient.� He tilted his
head to the side as they went back to circling each other. �Mito Anji is undergoing the procedure
now. I wonder if it will succeed.�

Testament
took in a slow breath, but there was nothing he could do�he would have to trust
that Baiken would reach him first. �What
will happen to him?� he asked, hoping to keep the man talking a bit longer so
he could catch his breath.

�With
any ritual of Forbidden Magic it requires a sacrifice, and a great deal of
energy.� The Ninth tilted his head
up. �It must be performed correctly or
the sacrifice will be taken without the completion of the transformation. Such an instance would mean death.�

�What
is it?� Testament�s pulse began to rise;
he could almost feel the Ninth�s energy begin to amass itself. �What did you sacrifice, to complete the
ritual?�

The
Ninth stared back at him, his face oddly serene. �My beating heart.�

His
ki again flooded the room, turning their battlefield into a wash of brilliant
light against Testament�s eyes.

*****

Baiken
soon found herself beginning to gasp for breath�she had always known Chipp�s
speed to be faster than her own, but that wouldn�t have been a problem if not
for the fact that she was doing her best not to seriously injure him. Her sword had cut a shallow wound across his
left thigh, and his arm-blade a similar laceration across her clavicles, but
other than that neither had sustained much damage. She could defend from him for a while yet,
but she was doing little more than stalling at this point. Time she couldn�t afford.

�You
probably have no idea, do you?� Leona was continuing as she adjusted the
equipment around the captive Anji. �Why
your people were slaughtered. Why
they�re being kept alive.�

�As
if I�d listen to you,� Baiken snarled.
She lifted her sword to block another of Chipp�s quick attacks, and
ducked under a high kick. She managed to
thrust her heel into his gut but it wasn�t enough; after only a brief falter
Chipp returned with a heavy punch that caught her in the shoulder, spinning her
about so that her breath was stolen in the impact of body to computer table.

Leona
glanced at her only briefly before returning to her work. �When magic was first discovered, a lot of
attention was paid to the Japanese,� she went on. �They had been passing on ki for generations,
and yet not even the new understanding of magic could unleash its secrets. Dozens of scientists devoted themselves to
its study. Including the man who created
the Gears.�

Baiken
flinched. Despite her strict attention
to her advancing opponent, she could help but listen, even if it made her skin
crawl. �That was over a hundred years
ago,� she retorted. �You don�t know what
you�re talking about.�

But
Leona didn�t act as if she�d heard. �It
soon became clear that men could not reproduce ki artificially; it required
will and emotion. Because of these
unique properties, it also meant that ki had incredible destructive power. Greater than any weapon man had ever created. If such power were ever to be developed, the
entire island of Japan would become a breeding
site for biological weapons.�

�You
bitch�� Baiken�s anger got the better of
her, and when Chipp came at her again her claw struck, digging into his
shoulder. It was strange, and eerie, to
see no look of pain cross his features even as his blood splattered. A jerk of her body sent the man reeling,
crashing into another slab-like table further down the room. Even hypnotized the breath was struck from
him; he gasped, clinging to the metal to remain upright.

Baiken,
meanwhile, wasted no time in stalking towards Leona and Anji. �How dare you talk about our people that
way,� she growled, grabbing Leona harshly by the arm and drawing her back so
their gazes could meet. �Biological
weapons? Is that all we are to you?�

�Possibly
the most destructive biological weapons man has ever known,� Leona replied
smoothly. �Aren�t you glad to hear
that?�

Baiken
scowled, releasing her so she could lift her sword once more�this woman was
going to end here. But Leona�s hand came
up suddenly in front of her. When she
realized what was happening, it was too late; a blast of ki caught her full in
the face, momentarily blinding her as she stumbled back, and soon after the
woman�s heel jabbed into her gut.
Hissing curses she launched her metallic claw blindly forward and
cringed when it clashed against metal.
Chipp was back, adding his own blast of ki that sent Baiken tumbling
weakly to the floor.

�A
Japanese is a weapon,� Leona declared somewhere overhead. �A dangerous, uncontrollable force. One man recognized this, and plotted for
their destruction and containment. The
rest of the world even helped him�encouraged him. The Japanese were not to be left free.�

Baiken
struggled to her feet, shaking hatefully as her grip spasmed around her
katana�s handle. �That�s�you goddamned
monsters�!�

�That�s
why the Gears were made�to kill Japanese.
And even now, why they�re being contained away from all other life. We�re still studying them. And someday, we�ll fully understand the power
that man tried to destroy with his abominations.� Leona returned to the table, climbing up onto
it as Baiken had done earlier. She
pressed her palm flat against Anji�s breast.
His body began to tremble beneath her.
�Until then, you are all our test subjects.�

*****

Testament
shielded his eyes from the light as he fell back, lighting his own magic seals
around himself, Bridget and Rael. He
could hear desks overturning, computer�s shattering, and somewhere amidst the
commotion a man�s swift footsteps. He
tossed his scythe blindly in front of him, a spell sending it into a mad spin
to drive off his approaching opponent.
But metal struck his blade, diverting it, and Testament gasped sharply
as a sword tip found his uncovered stomach.
It had penetrated his flesh several inches before he was able to lash
out with his foot�his boot smashed against the Ninth�s knuckles, forcing him to
relinquish his weapon as he retreated with a tiny yelp of his own.

The
light in the room faded once more, and Testament grimaced as he reached down,
yanking the sword from his stomach. Warm
blood spilled over his navel but a moment later the wound had sealed itself; he
leaned back against the wall to catch his breath.

The
Ninth, meanwhile, was curling his fingers, cracking the joints back into
place. He lifted Testament�s scythe from
the ground. �This�is going to take some
time, it seems.�

Testament
glared at him through locks of sweat-dampened hair. �You couldn�t kill me back then,� he retorted
stiffly. �I don�t see how you think you
can do it now.�

The
Ninth�s eyes narrowed on him, and he hefted his enemy�s weapon, stalking
forward once more. �I could say the same
to you,� he hissed in reply. �You�re
just as pathetic as I last saw you.�

He
charged, but Testament was ready; his scythe obeyed only him, and with a twitch
of his hand the weapon leapt from the Ninth�s grip and back to his
master�s. The Ninth tried to backpedal,
but now Testament was bearing down on him with a blade in each hand, both
arching forward. He sidestepped the
scythe, but the sword he caught in his open palm, uncaring as his flesh was
torn. A firm jerk wrenched his sword
back into his possession, allowing them to meet properly once more. They then fell back, gauging each other.

�There�s
another factory, isn�t there?� Testament muttered, his attention
unwavering. �In A-Country. How many more are there?�

The
Ninth scoffed. �Why do you care? You�re not leaving here alive.�

�Call
it idle curiosity.�

�Nice
try.�

The
pair met again. They were beginning to
tire after all the expenditure of magic, the tremors that ran up their limbs
whenever blades clashed. It showed
clearly in their faces, their shifting grips and trembling muscles. Testament felt his boots slip slightly across
the floor, and rather than lose his leverage jumped lightly over his
opponent. The Ninth turned just fast
enough to meet him again.

Testament�s
eyes thinned. �There�s something else to
this project,� he said lowly, grip straining.
�What are you really after?�

The
Ninth�s expression hardened, and a sudden rush of strength gave him the power
he needed to force Testament back. His
sword caught flesh again, a scraping wound against his ribs, but it, too, was
swiftly mended. �Any army. What else would the Bureau be interested in?�

�Not
all Japanese can use ki very well.�
Testament swung his scythe low, catching the Ninth in the shins�by the
time he�d leapt back the gashes were already healing. �Even if you converted the entire Japanese
population, it wouldn�t do you any good if they can�t control their own power.�

�You
seem to know something about the nature of ki.
I�m so proud of you.� The Ninth
attacked again with magic, and was once more repelled. Their battle was wearing down; they weren�t
getting anywhere like this. �You�re
right. That�s why the project has yet to
reach its final stage.�

He
charged, locking blades and glares as they struggled against each other. �Changing the Japanese is only the first
step,� the Ninth said lowly, shifting his grip.
�As soon as we understand the outcome of the ritual�the bodies of those
like me�we�ll be able to work the process in reverse.�

�In
reverse?�

�Creating
ki-using fighters from robots.� The
Ninth�s eyes flashed. �Grafting the
necessary organs and tissues to a preexisting robotic frame. We can create our robots by the dozens�we can
recreate human flesh with Japanese DNA as easily as we can make Gears. Combined, our army will be without flaw! Hundreds of indestructible robot bodies
bearing human form and flesh, wielding a power greater than any Gear. And then�.�

The
Ninth shifted his grip, and gradually he began to push Testament back. �And then, the last threat of Gears on this
world will be gone forever. Including
you.�

�I�m
not going anywhere.� Testament feinted
back a step, taking the Ninth off balance, driving the handle of his scythe
into the back of his skull. He felt a
thrill of satisfaction as the man was sent reeling.

*****

Sol
had suspected all along that there was something wrong with this fight. In the beginning he had passed it off as his
imagination�he had fought dozens of enemies already with the likeness and
movement of his former �captain,� and reasoned that there was nothing
suspicious in finding an even better replica here in their home base. It was just when he was beginning to wonder
again when he felt his flesh tear.
Though the wound was not serious, it had started his mind whirling
again. Ky didn�t fight like this. He was driven, strong, and precise, of
course, but never this�clear, this undistracted, and Sol couldn�t remember
having to fight this hard for some time.

Their
battleground wasn�t helping, either. The
stranger�s electricity was conducted by every plate of metal in the floor,
walls, and machinery around them, and despite the thickness of his boot soles
he wasn�t careless enough to stay grounded for very long whenever the sword
flashed. That sword, so familiar to him
already�.

Equipment
exploded off to the side, and the man didn�t flinch, inciting Sol�s suspicion
further; if this were the head of these experiments, or even one of them
itself, it should have known better than to destroy the very machinery that
this place depended on. The factory was
by now in ruins. It might have been that
the creation was merely irrational�it had not yet spoken a word other than his
name, early in their battle�but he found it unsettling.

Another
bout of lightning streaked toward him, and Sol countered it with his own magic;
the two energies mixed, causing yet another explosion that blew the supply door
clearly off its tracks and into the courtyard.
Sol took the opportunity to run for it�if they could continue outside,
at least he wouldn�t be at a disadvantage anymore. He could hear the man following swiftly at
his heels as they left the building, amidst the scattered remains of dozens of
fallen robots. Sol glared at them with
irritation�the husks of the robots would probably conduct the electricity as
well as the factory.

Where
the bodies had come from was a mystery to him as well; having approached the
factory from his own cut path in the rear, he hadn�t realized others had
assaulted the building before him. Now
it was clear that someone else had taken it upon themselves to deal with the
Bureau�s latest project and, most likely, that this man he was fighting now was
not his enemy. �Hey. Hold on a��

Before
he�d even finished the black-clad man was upon him, hopping lightly off the
debris with sword brandished. Sol hissed
a curse, dodging back several steps, and at last planted his weight. �I said hold on!�

Sol
twisted, catching the man with a high kick; his heel impacted squarely in his
stomach and sent him all but flying backwards.
He landed with a weak cry and a thud amidst the robots. That rising of voice, however brief and
slight, was enough to make Sol pause again, and this time instead of charging
in once more he waited, allowing the man to catch his breath.

The
younger man struggled only to his knees, an arm wrapped around his midsection
as he gasped weakly. His eyes were
piercing and deep as they watched Sol several meters away. It was a familiar gaze, a familiar accusation
buried in his pained visage.

Before
he could gather his thoughts the man charged again, having recovered from the
blow far more quickly than Sol had anticipated.
He leapt, sword raised and flashing.
Sol lifted his weapon to defend from the attack, but just before they
met he saw a glint of light off a piece of metal against the man�s chest�a
silver cross necklace.

They
hit hard; Sol took the man�s full weight against his chest, and his back struck
against unyielding earth. The bare skin
on the back of his arms and neck complained with angry scrapes as they skidded
across the ground and finally halted.
Sol lifted his eyes. His opponent
had him pinned, one knee digging into his chest and a hand tight around his
throat, the tip of his sword pressing into his left breast. They were both breathing hard, gazes locked
and limbs still. Sol remained
motionless, watching the face above him, the lines of tension in his forehead
and jaw and the intensity buried in his tinted irises. A quick glance at the silver cross dangling
between them removed any doubt. He was a
fool, and later, he would laugh. �Ky�?�

****

Ky�s
breath stopped, his grip clenching around his sword. For a long moment the pair could only stare
at each other. He had known it would
happen eventually, but faced with Sol�s realization now he was at a loss. There was no explanation for his
self-indulgent foolishness, and he was still drawn too taut, too filled with
adrenaline and pride to listen to Sol�s berating.

The
fight was over. As suddenly as that, Sol
would turn his back, leaving this battle behind them with no care of the
significance it held for the younger officer.
He had allowed him even the victory of this pin, he knew that for
certain. As soon as his identity as Ky
Kiske had been known, this battle they had already devoted so much strength
into ceased to be worth Sol Badguy�s time.
Even knowing Ky�s sacrifices of comrades and mission, that Ky had been
able to fight harder, more effectively than in any duel between them, Sol would
not care. Ky Kiske simply wasn�t worth
the effort, no matter what his skill or devotion.

�What
the fuck to do you think you�re doing?� Sol grunted, glaring at him.

Ky�s
expression hardened, trembling with barely controlled frustration. He had been a fool to think that Sol would
ever acknowledge him. Faced with him
now, feeling the sweat evaporate from his weary limbs, he finally felt that he
realized how little he must have meant to this man�that even after so desperate
a battle, he could look the other way without a second thought to any of
it. Such was the uncaring arrogance of a
Gear.

�You
hear me, Kiske? Get the hell off me
already.�

Sol�s
hand curled around his wrist, trying to remove it from his throat. The sudden touch made Ky gasp; as soon as Sol
was free, everything would be over.
Without thinking Ky�s hands tightened, keeping Sol pinned as he thrust
Thunderseal into his chest.

*****

Sol
hadn�t been expecting the attack�he had been so sure that his opponent was Ky
that by the time he realized the sword was heading toward him he could already feel
it splitting his flesh. His body reacted
without him, forcing his knee up against Ky�s hip to throw him over his
head. But by then the blade had already
cut into skin, and as Ky was tossed it dragged through him, carving a long gash
up his chest to his shoulder. His voice
lifted in a pained and startled cry as he rolled onto his knees to face his
assailant. �You�what the fuck�?�

Fireseal
dropped from his grasp as he covered the wound; hot blood pulsed against his
palm and spilled thickly down his torso.
It was deep, dangerously close to his heart, and already the coppery
taste was welling in his throat. He
coughed hoarsely�it spilled onto his lips.
�Ky�?�

The
man was just now pushing to his feet, grip tight and trembling around his
sword. He wasn�t yet facing Sol. The Gear hissed another curse under his
breath. �Damnit, Ky, what the hell is wrong
with you!�

*****

Ky
felt a shudder run through him. He was
watching the tip of his sword, the Gear�s blood that was sliding down its
blade. Gear�s blood�had always appeared
thicker to him. Whether or not it truly
was he would never know for certain, but it seemed so. In the dead of night it even looked black. For a moment he was caught in the sight of
it, in the knowledge that this was Sol�s blood he had taken.

Even
now, wounded and betrayed, Sol would not fight him seriously. Ky knew better, now, than to imagine that he
ever would. But there was one thing in
their world that Sol had never yielded to, and would fight with the full extent
of his power. If he were to convince the
Gear to face him at his best�here, in the last opportunity left to him�he would
have to become nothing less than the enemy Sol had pursued all his life. At least, in Sol�s eyes, he would. This would be his final gamble.

The
officer took in a deep breath, his lips forming words that reached no further
than his own ears. �I�m sorry,
Testament. For being this selfish.�

Ky
tightened his grip around Thunderseal�s handle.
The sword flashed obediently, only for a brief moment, allowing him to
collect a small amount of magic in his open palm; a tiny ball of light not
unlike the concentrated mag-lights that Ky had so often manipulated as a child,
hidden from Sol�s view. Slowly he lifted
his hand, passing it over his forehead and through his hair as he had done many
times before. It took a slight
manipulation of energy, delicate work such as only Ky could have done, to form
the channels of light into a small group of sharp lines against his forehead in
a familiar symbol.

Ky
lowered his hand, turning to face Sol with eyes narrowed. He felt only a slight satisfaction as Sol�s
eyes widened on the gleaming markings adorning his brow. His own eyes narrowed.

�Sol,�
Ky said firmly, conveying in that moment just how serious he was. �If you hold back against me now, I will kill
you.�

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Culmination