Crimzon5
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The train had already departed. By looking at the window, one could estimate that the town was about a hundred yards away. Since the train had not traveled much, its speed was still a bit slow, due to the still unfinished acceleration. Seeing that the conductor was approaching the passengers for an inspection one at a time, Ryan tapped his legs impatiently. Lanceler, keeping his cool, stared at his window, letting the wind blow through his hair. Behind the two men, were the reserved seats for the girls. Danielle was dressed up with her cowgirl outfit while Jhenine wore a simple dress and a straw hat with a pink bow on top. "It’s a shame to watch those tears flow from their eyes,” Jhenine said. “Ethan’s departure was on thing, but me leaving the town is another.” “Well, we’re not forcing you to leave or anything,” remarked Danielle. Smiling, she continued, “Besides, we just can’t leave you there all alone. But if you were Lanceler, you would’ve obviously declined our invitation to join.” Staring at Ryan, who wasn’t paying attention to her, she silently thought of something to say to make her noticed. “Tickets, please?” the conductor asked as he approached them. Already holding his and Lanceler’s, Ryan flashed them to him, waiting for the conductor to punch their tickets.. “Thank you sir.” Seeing the man proceed to his female companions, Lanceler gave Ryan the signal to commence the operation. Aha! I got it, Danialle told herself, I’ll just say… Before she could utter any word from what she was thinking, Ryan stood up in response to Lanceler’s signal. Trying to at least get a talk to with him, Danielle asked, “You’re going already?” Ryan gave hardly noticeable nod. Thinking that she was ignored, Danielle felt miserable and pouted. The train was divided into eight sections; one being the engine, another one being the caboose, and the other six being the passenger rooms. Upon exiting the last room, they entered the caboose. Giving Knightmare a small pat on the head, Lanceler proceeded to the end of train. A small chain connected the two railings, serving as a wall to prevent people from falling off. Climbing his way to the roof, Lanceler attached a dragonhead-shaped insignia on his jacket. Upon activation, it extended to his armor, resembling a black knight, with a dragonhead being his breastplate. His trim’s golden color reflected the light from the scorching sun. Holding a black bishop, which had the capability of extending to a lance, he proceeded to the roof of the first passenger room, the room where he suspected Senator Shadebainer to be in. Stabbing the roof with his lance, he ‘introduced’ himself. “I am Lancelot, the knight of justice!” His voice entered through the hole, allowing him to be heard. Seeing the damage, a hole produced by a silver lance, Joseph gave his guards the order to investigate. The other passengers exited with the guards. Only Joseph and a young teenager chose to stay. The civilians rushed towards the other rooms, occupying vacant seats while the security climbed on one another, gave each other a boost, and did whatever it took to reach the top of the train. Laughing at their futile attempts in reaching him, Lanceler kept a five-feet distance from the edge of train and sent sparks flying with his lance. Having a length of six feet, his lance was able to reach the edge, despite the distance. The friction of the two metals, accompanied by the force he exerted, ignited small flames. They were harmless, yet enough to repel his enemies, knowing that they wouldn’t dare make contact with the sparks. Thinking that if they climbed the roof at different places would prevent Lancelot from striking them all at once, they retreated to the second passenger room and split up, climbing the roofs in between different areas. Ryan returned to the fifth room, waiting for Lanceler to divert all the guards. Assuming that he had already done so, he attached the badge Lanceler had given him. But just as he was starting to activate it, he heard the door burst open as six guards barged in. There wasn’t any panicking. After all, Ryan was the only ‘civilian’ in that room. Pretending to be unaware of what was happening, he asked one of the guards for what was going on. Being too busy with the black knight, they ignored him and exited through the other side. Wiping his face, Ryan folded the wings of his badge as he stood there, being awed by the forming of his armor. Like Lancelot’s, his armor was black but had a blend of crimson for the trim. His armor wasn’t balanced; his left shin guard shone dark silver and was blade-shaped while his right one had a spike on the kneepad. His left hand was equipped with a rectangular knuckle glove, unlike his right one which was protected only by a plain rubber glove. Realizing that his face was unmasked, he rushed back to last passenger room, the one connected to the caboose. Like the fifth, it had no passengers so it was used for storing large luggage items such as his motorcycle. Grabbing his helmet from the seat, he wore it and grabbed his bayonet as well. Strange… why would they just leave a weapon here? I know that they confiscated my weapon when I was inspected. But man, this is so irresponsible for them! Upon entering every room, making his way towards Joseph, he pointed his firearm at the nearest passenger and shouted “Nobody move!” The people had no choice but to cooperate. Knowing that they were safe, Jhenine and Danielle still had to play along to prevent suspicion. But her doubts still continued to trouble Jhenine. She had the feeling that she was going to get shot. In fear, she started to shed tears. Wow, she’s a natural, Ryan told himself. Ryan head reached the second carriage. When he opened the door, leading to the small joint connecting the train, a young raven-haired teen pointed a pair of identical guns at him. Evidently, they were made in the Northern region, the most advanced region in Magnagon. “Get out of the way,” Ryan warned with a boastful attitude. Man, just a kid? How old this guy? Fourteen, fifteen? Above the two, Lancelot watched the security guards sprout out from behind their cover. Seeing the same bodyguard that halted them from entering Room 731, he tried to stop himself from shooting. Ironically, for being cold-hearted at some times, his sympathy was stronger than his willpower. The captain of the squad signaled his men by swaying his hands at certain directions. Each finger combination –and whether which hand was used– indicted one person. Forming a W arrangement, the frontiers knelt as they aimed. The captain was the first to fire a bullet from his musket, only to be stunned by it being caught by Lancelot’s hand. “What?!” Looking at his men, he gave the order to shoot. “Fire!” Their weapons fired several projectiles, and produced a large cloud of smoke. After the smog had cleared, they saw the knight’s fists closed, being slowly opened as they dropped the bullets. Ting ting… ting… The bullets which he didn’t catch seemed to have no effect on his armor. Being overwhelmed by their number, Lancelot jumped off the train, smiling. At one moment, the captain was standing next to one of his gunmen; what happened next was that he found himself a few feet from the ground, away from the tracks. As he landed, blood started to drip from his scraped knee. From his spot, he could see Lancelot in midair, kicking his men off the train one by one and just suddenly appearing behind their backs. “What… is this?” Hearing the snuffling of a horse, he turned his head. Seeing a silhouette on a man’s face, he asked, “Who are you?” The man raised his hat, allowing his face to be seen. Fixing his vest, and adjusting his golden star, he replied. “Hmph… I’m the sheriff.” Drawing two guns from his hostler, he gave his steed a small heel kick. Whistling while watching more men fall off the train, he returned his guns to his belt and lit a cigarette. Bang! The cigarette was suddenly shot off from his hand. “Isn’t it a bad idea to smoke, sir?” A small portion of his mask opened as Lancelot blew the smoke emitted by his shot gun. Dodging the punches of the guards, he grabbed their fists and threw them overboard. He can shoot a target very accurately with a shotgun at the distance of fifteen feet?! He must be like Ethan… a wielder of an element. That could be the only reason for his supernatural abilities… What a shame that he’s using it for wrong causes! Ethan should’ve been teaching him a thing or two right now– wait! Did he kill Ethan? He must’ve drained his powers or something… Desiring to avenge Ethan, he kicked his horse several times, forcing it to go faster. Tailing the sheriff was a gryphon, soaring in the air. Mounted on it was silver-haired swordsman. His left boot had a sheath tied to it. Within the scabbard was a silver blade. His belt strap had black daggers attached; each had a length of seven inches. Riding with him, seated behind, was a redhead. He carried a rail gun and wore its strap as if it were a shoulder bag’s. “You see that?” The silver-haired man pointed at the twilight-colored knight. “That is Lanceler Vi Ladoli. He uses his Vision and element for terrorism. We need to eliminate him.” “Yes, brother,” replied his companion. Keeping an on Lanceler, another black knight, within the range of his peripheral vision, caught his attention. The redhead closed his left eye, concentrating his vision on fifteen year old boy. An invisible beam of light was discharged off his eyes, headed towards his target. “Vision-hack: Activated!” With his Vision-hack used on him, his target became a host, a host for him to spy and learn information with. The swordsman’s brother could see whatever the young gunman saw. The boy ignored Ryan’s word of warning. Trying to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, Ryan grabbed the boy and threw him into the carriage before he could shoot. Ryan then shut the door close and locked it by placing his shovel on the handles, preventing the door from opening. “These nanabots really come in handy!” Landing on his back, Vincent aimed and shot the door, trying to penetrate it. Unfortunately, his ammo was too weak. Only a bullet designed for demolition could break through it. Standing up, he tried to kick the door open but with no success. “Dang,” he cursed. Turning his back, he saw the civilians staring at him. One of the female passengers wrapped her child with her arms. Seeing this, he thought that he seemed to pose a threat to them. “It’s okay,” he nervously said, “I am Vincent R. Fabula, a junior CIA agent. My license is well umm…” Vincent tapped his pockets, trying to feel something that had a shape of a rectangle. “Well, it’s somewhere here…” Failing to locate his ID, his tension started to build up. Warm blood rose to his head, causing him sweat. Pulling out a handkerchief, he said, “Wait guys, it’s here somewhere…” Seeing only two men, the “playboy” and another guard whose face was masked by the shadows of his cap, Lanceler cracked his knuckles. Joseph’s personal bodyguard immediately fled while his companion chose to stay. “Lancelot, eh? Hmm… you’ve already swapped places seventeen times. You also seem to be exhausted from constant punching and kicking.” Letting out a maniac laugh, he continued, “You appear to have just enough life force left to use your element twice. Bwahaha!” Seeing a grayish white light from the shadows of his eyes, Lanceler took a few steps back. Aiming his gun, he said, “I don’t need it to beat you.” The guard let out another maniac laugh, only to be interrupted by a gunshot. Staring at his shoulder, he saw no injury. “Shoot, I missed!” Lancelot shouted. Ryan, you’d better thank me for this! With Vincent out of the way, Ryan entered Joseph’s carriage. Shadebainer seemed to hide his face, facing his back at the terrorist. “I’ve been expecting you… Tell me, why are you doing this?” Turning around, the senator opened a bottle of water. Showing no sign of fear, he twisted cap and slowly gulped one quarter of the water. Wiping his lips with a white handkerchief, he intentionally spilled the remains. Not minding what his visitor would think of him, he placed a plastic cup on the water dispenser, leaving it as is as the water continued to pour, creating a larger mass. Even without his Vision, Ryan remembered the incident that happened a few days ago. He was about to strike but only to be disarmed. “Shadebainer! You already know, don’t you? I am here because of two crimes that you’ve committed. One is murder and the other is stealing an innocent man’s Vision!” Ryan unlocked the trigger of bayonet and aimed. He chose to fire after they finished exchanging their words. “You can’t hide anything from me! I, too, have a Vision, one that let this all happen.” “Please, call me Joseph. That was the name given to me, so please use it.” A small light emitted, coming from inside his coat. Ryan’s jaw dropped as he was immobilized by the rising of the water. Ryan could see it being slowly assembled. A trigger, a revolver, six bullets, and a few more mechanical parts... all those, being formed out of water. A revolver levitated in midair. Joseph swept his right arm, grabbing the weapon. Looking at the ceiling, and placing his left finger under his bearded chin, he continued, “Murder? What was that’s man name again?” After a very short pause, he continued. “The only thing ‘important’ about it that I could remember was what I took from him, his Vision. For twelve years, this power has never failed me. It even allowed me to anticipate your arrival.” “Wait! You mean you’ve had that power for twelve years?” That means my father– Quickly responding, and interrupting Ryan’s thoughts, “Enough of this!” From his loose grip, he stiffened his arm, aiming at Ryan’s tinted mask, seeing it as the most vulnerable part of his armor. “Who are you?” He… he doesn’t know me?! This makes no sense. I thought he could read minds. And as for his Vision, he’s saying that he stole it from my father. What about Ethan’s? Wait, he doesn’t have a blade. So, it was someone else? “Shadebainer, I am Redemption. I am the knight of vengeance and atonement!” Hearing his reply, Joseph grinned as he fired a bullet. Dangit! Not now! In fear, Ryan closed his eyes. Three seconds had passed after he heard the bang. I… I… Am I dead? Opening his eyes, he wondered where he was. Seeing the cacti and the desert sand shrinking as the distance grew, he heard a familiar voice. “Ryan, I need your help. That guy… he has a Vision!” Lanceler’s right fist was closed and in front of his chest while he used his left hand to point. Looking at the other end of the train, he eyed the bodyguard. He didn’t seem to do anything, as if he was waiting for them to finish talking. “Sure thing, Lanceler.” “Sssh! We're terrorists! When I wear this mask, call me Lancelot. That’s what hidden aliases are for!” “Fine, but call me Redemption.” Feeling very confident, Ryan released another shell from his bladed weapon. Grinning, the anonymous man let out a screech, seeming to source from his palm. The sound caused a crack on Ryan’s mask. At the same time, the vibration broke his bullet’s coordination thus, it missed him. Laughing, he created another screech, this time coming from his other hand. The fracture grew larger to a point wherein a large shard fell off his helmet. “Okay, no need to panic,” Ryan said out loud, but addressing himself, “Sound is obviously his element.” Licking his lips, he tasted the metallic flavor of blood. He suspected his shattered mask to have made some cuts on his face. Lancelot noticed Redemption pausing. “Anything wrong?” “Nothing,” he replied. “And don’t get any ideas like teleporting with Danielle here. I ain’t lying this time. Besides, her Vision is cold…” “Heh, I was gonna do that, however, according to that guy’s Vision, which is the ability to see one’s life force, I can’t. I used my remaining energy to get you here. Heh, if sound’s his element, then seeing life force has gotta be his Vision.” With his ability, Lanceler could teleport to any area as long as he can travel to it while holding his breath. One flaw was that he couldn’t inflict any harm on anyone for he would just pass through. Another weakness his power was burdened with was the fact that he couldn’t pick anything up, or take any material object for his skin would just pass through. If he decided to let his breath go, he would just swap places with the object that occupied the space he ‘stole’. But if he held an object, and then used his element, the item would teleport with him. Knowing his limitations, Lanceler was able to plan out his actions. By teleporting next to Ryan, and then grabbing him as he teleported back, Ryan was dragged along with him. Opening a small portion of his mask, Lanceler wiped his lips. After a quick stretch, he heard the man shout out, “Hey, you seemed to have regenerated enough life force to teleport one more time.” “This could be a trap,” warned Redemption. “Don’t worry; my power doesn’t use up that much of my life force. Besides, what is life force anyway? Stamina? Oh well, I’ll just fall unconscious from excessive teleporting anyway. Swapping places isn’t my only ability, ‘ya know…” Taking his chances, he snapped his fingers as sign of good luck. Time stopped. He could see his ally and his opponent both immobilized. Redemption seemed to make an attempt in stopping him from using his element. His arms were stretched out, trying to grab him, but failed to make a any kind of contact. The man who could produce any kind of sound had a position wherein he was just laughing as he stared at the sky. His right arm rested on his forehead while his left hand held still held his weapon. Trying to save time, Lancelot ran towards him, positioning himself behind his back. As he took a deep breath, canceling the effects of his power, he performed an axe kick. At the same time, he heard his companion shout, “Lancelot, no! The man landed on his front, but supported himself by pillaring on his arms. Quickly standing up, he unexpectedly introduced himself. “Hi! I’m Cyro!” Waving his hands, he got another kick on his back, this time from Redemption. Landing hard, he felt a force applied on his back, ‘drilling’ its way on his back. Redemption stepped on him, imitating the movement of a drill with the tip of his feet. Feeling pity, Lancelot did nothing but watch. Underneath his mask was a scowling frown. The pain caused Cyro to be enraged. Opening his right hand, he let loose a powerful burst of sound, shattering the remaining glass on Redemption’s helmet. As effect, the two were brought down to their knees, produced by the pain and damage done to their coordination. More shards cut Ryan’s face, and blood started to bleed from his left nostril. His face was exposed, a fair-skinned man who had long brown bangs, covering his eyes. Standing up once more, and wiping off dirt from his torso, he offered the two a hand. “Hi! I’m Cyro! Spelled as C-Y-R-O.” Bang! A few feet from them, at the left side of the train, was a mounted gunman. His brown vest had a golden star attached to it. “Heh, missed…” Since he decided to keep his steed in a steady location as he shot, he fell more feet behind. Being alerted, Lancelot stood up once more and gave Cyro a swift punch. The impact caused his head to turn to the left, receiving more and more pain from constant punching. Before he could hit him with his ninth blow, his fists were caught by Cyro’s palms, his right being the first and his left being the second as it attempted to strike him once more. “Why are you attacking me?!” “What?! Why are you attacking me?!” Lancelot asked. Cyro just blinked ‘innocently’. “Seero, eh? Hmm… aren’t you a guard or anything?” “No,” Cyro rebutted, “I had to get on this train somehow. After thinking for a few seconds, this idea came to me: dress up as one of the guards!” After mentioning the last word, he stared up to the sky, laughing madly again. Ryan, wondering about Cyro’s motive for getting on the train, opened his mouth. At the instant this happened, his new, but strange, ‘friend’ covered his mouth. “It’s rude to talk when someone else is.” Being up close, the two could see that he could produce words without moving his lips. Ryan’s jaw struggled as he tried to reason out. “Now, where was I?” The short silence he left was broken, conquered by the noise Ryan produced. “Oh yeah,” he continued followed by his laughter. “Have you guys heard of the new Barney character? He’s on the train! Everyone’s talking about him. Shadebarney… must be some kind of black dinosaur.” Stimulated by the foolishness of his words, Ryan pulled Cyro’s hands off from his face and corrected, “It’s Shadebainer. And second, he’s in the train.” Following his words was another gunshot. The accurate bullet hit his torso but failed to damage Ryan in any way. Sticking his tongue out at the sheriff, teasing him for his futileness, Cyro subsequently activated a detonator which he pulled from his pocket. A large portion of the tracks that they’ve already passed exploded, engulfing the horse and several unconscious men. The pain the horse felt at the instant before it died caused it to trample wildly. As a result, the sheriff was dismounted. Fortunately, he was just inches away from the blast’s radius. Exhausted by the pain, he silently cursed, and gripped onto the sand, trying to crawl, hoping that somehow he’ll get to them again. “You were able to plant bombs in the tracks?!” Lancelot asked surprised, almost being impressed. “Seesh! That’s impossible!” Cyro rebutted, “That place was too heavily guarded. All I did was hack one of the computers from the Northern region and send a missile.” He pointed to a building, several kilometers distant and slightly visible through the enshrouding fog brought by the distance. “Uhh… isn’t that more impossible?” Ryan sighed and continued, “But heh,” Ryan shrugged, “remarkable. You came all the way here from the Northern region to see ‘Shadebarney’?” The two black nights were driven to laughter. Seeing that ironically he was the only one who wasn’t expressing a lively gesture, Cyro started to laugh as well, not knowing what was funny.” “Anyways, you two owe me something.” His fingers alternately folded towards his palms, and then contracted away, seeming as if he was asking for payment. Seeing this, Ryan felt a bit guilty so he pulled his wallet from a small opening of his armor that recently unlocked itself, allowing his hand to reach his pocket. “Since there’s no Shadebarney, and just that senate guy, I feel… bored. Since you two are getting yourselves in such a fun yet dangerous ‘activity’ you might as well bring me along!” “Hmm… he may useful,” said Lancelot. As usual, he would place his finger under his lips and his thumb under his chin. “But… please try not to use your element all the time. Not only is it a waste of energy but people might see you with an abnormality.” Hearing this, Cyro was driven to more laughter. The sudden movement of his head caused his blue cap, a part of his disguise, to fall off, being left behind on the ground as the train continued steaming its way to its destination. Like Lanceler’s, his hair was blond, but more yellowish than his. “Bah, I don’t care. According to my Vision, I haven’t even used four percent of my life force.” “Hehe,” Ryan silently laughed. “You know, Lanceler, if Cyro was Jhenine, I would kill you for what you just said.” Ryan discarded his bullets and rested his bayonet’s body on his shoulder. The blade was just three inches from him, and the butt, being supported by his right hand, was touching his chest. “Hmph…” Lanceler’s rivalry forced him to challenge the brunet. “You’re on! As soon as we get off this train, let’s have a fight. And based on the map, the Northwestern region would be the best place.” The Northwestern region riddled with deserts and canyons, making it an ideal place for such fights. Not only was it isolated from the public, but it was near their destination as well. But little to their knowledge was that since the place had a population of zero, the King of Magnagon declared it as the War Zone, as requested by the UNF or the United Nations Federation. To prevent civilian deaths, an invading country should only attack the defensive country’s selected region. But rules stated that land’s area should not be less than a hundred thousand square kilometers and that it should be one of the country’s boundaries. Another rule mentioned that the defensive nation could have an advantage if it could supply itself with antiaircraft mortars and stationary weapons as support to their units as protection from invading forces. Nowadays, first world countries would supply themselves with golems that would be piloted by soldiers. It would either take the shape of a human or an animal. However, experts believed that human-shaped models are the best, being capable of wielding giant artillery designed for them as well as being the most versatile. But the mass saw it merely as an opinion, so the production of animal-based models such as the Pantheroen, a jaguar-based mech, still took place. “Speaking of getting off this train, how do we get back in? Wouldn’t it be suspicious? I mean, why would the terrorists just leave the train? All the guards have already been knocked out– literally. Besides, if we just show up, being present only when the terrorists have left, it would be obvious that we’re Lancelot and Redemption,” Ryan discussed. To save time, and to derive an urgent answer, Lanceler activated his Vision. Letting him concentrate, both Cyro and Ryan kept silent. But as usual for how their story goes, the silence would yet again be broken. A powerful gunshot caught their attention. When the three decided to check what was happening, they were nearly stumbled, due to the deceleration of the train. Vincent managed to blast through the door, and was able to disconnect the senator’s carriage from the other six, the caboose being one. Ryan aimed his bayonet at him, trying to take out his anger. But he realized that now they had a reason to ‘disappear’. Being known the public, would mean that he was going to be an enemy. Yet, he could still gain allies and supporters, as long as he chose the right words. Thanking Vincent in his mind, he pulled the trigger, knowing that he was still an enemy, only to hear a click. Dang! When I planned to use Shattered Cepheus, I had to discard my bullets. Unfortunately, I forgot to reload. Hmm… I could experiment it on him… but, that might kill Joseph. I can’t do that… not until I know the details… Lanceler armed himself with his shotgun. He placed his hand behind his back, activating the chess piece as he moved his hand from his back to his front. His actions imitated the cartoons wherein the characters would just pull stuff from their backs. Laughing silently, Lanceler’s long wait to use his nanabots in a situation like this was over. But before he could shoot, Vincent retreated to the safety of the inner portion of the train, unaware of their presence. “Let him go.” Ryan slowly pushed Lanceler’s firearm downward. Smiling, the two remembered the incident when Ryan pointed his shovel at the Lanceler, being enraged by the mentioning of his parents’ death. “Besides, he’s out of range.” Lanceler remained silent, thanking the events that prevented him from killing. Hearing this, Cyro laughed. “Heh, I wonder what happened to the money we spent on riding the train? Wait, I didn’t spend anything! Bwahahaha!” Lanceler and Ryan were made to think about Cyro’s natural voice. When he laughs, he does open his mouth, but the two didn’t believe that his pitch was so high. Shaking his head and folding his arms, Ryan replied with a grin, “Heh, I am one of two inheritors my father’s wealth…” As mentioned, Ryan is the only son of his father. But there wasn’t anything said about the nonexistence of another child. Ryan was a half blood, borne by a woman of the Eastern region with a man of the Southern region. The people of the South were known for superior strength thus, explaining Ryan’s physical prowess. However, none of his friends ever had knowledge of his sister, not even Danielle who had been his neighbor for eight years. At the age of ten, with Ryan just being seven, his sister was assigned to training under the supervision of a Southern soldier. Normally, men at the age of eighteen were the youngest candidates, but for possessing the blood of a native from the Southern region, she was recruited at a very young age. Looking at Lanceler, Ryan decided to spill the beans about him having a sibling. “And my sister… is the second.”
< Message edited by Crimzon5 -- 10/1/2008 5:29:52 >
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