FSE

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If you don't like guys, girls, furres, sex or love, violence (Not in yiff) or if you're too young (18, 21 in some places, just ask the police "Hey, am I allowed to read sexy bisexual furre stories on the net?") or any of that, CLOSE TEH WINDOW NOWS! All characters are copyright me, Shinkada, and are used with my permission, with the exception of Coda, who is copyrighted to Coro, and used with his permission. This story is a bit mushy at times, so if you don't want lurve, buzz off. Anyone who bugs me "OMG MORE YIFF PLOX" will get castrated by Okhami himself. I put in enough of it already to get you off AT LEAST once per every few chapters. If you're still not satisfied take a cold shower. ***'s represent a change of scenery or time. ---'s represent a non-critical yiff scene, fan service to shut up the wailing masses. Please, sit back, relax, and enjoy the story without whining about it. It's a good story. I like it. A sidenote; if you'd like to write a story set in the same universe as this, by all means, feel free. As long as you give me credit for it, as long as you inform me that you're going to do it via e-mail ([email protected]), and as long as you don't try and mess with my, or Coro's character/s, I don't mind. In fact if someone good writes a story I'd be quite honoured. Just make sure you tell me first, and don't mess anything up. (It's over... It's finally over. Not much more to say now. Stopped reading because of the lack of yiff? Congratulations, you're one of the only bad things about this fanbase. That and the ridiculous urge to become mainstream. Thankfully, those are the only flaws prevalent. It's still a great fandom. I dunno what I'll do next if anything. I'm still deciding what I want to do with my LIFE next. I'm tempted to bore you all with the details out of spite, but I'll refrain. Basically, shit is confusing right now, and what was once a clear path is now a dusty roundabout leading onto about five busy highways. I know I'll eventually come back to writing as a hobby, but the time is unknown. It could be three months from now, it could be three years from now. Who knows. If I do come back, I doubt it'll be furry. I'll still post it at FA, although I'm pretty sure YS disallows non-furry stuff. Lots of people have been asking lately, if I don't care about actually involving furries, why not Deviant Art? Duh. I hate that place. Do I LOOK like I write bad poetry? So if I do come back, it'll likely only be to FA. There's plenty of links scattered to my page there, use your heads. And it probably won't involve furries. That shouldn't bother all but the biggest of fur purists, which hopefully aren't reading my stories in the first place. So, goodbye LiM, finally, after well over a year. I hope any who were here from the start enjoyed it despite all the stops and starts, and I hope everyone who read it anyway enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it... Or... About half of it, anyway. XD) -Shinkada * * *

LiQUID METAL

• * * ***FINAL CHAPTER: Fission and Fusion*** For what felt like hours, I just sat there. My knees had long since given way, and as I stared straight through the fox in front of me, him laughing, my entire body quivering as if the temperature of the room had dropped to winter levels, I felt it rising. Bubbling up and spearing through my veins like lava piercing water, not even remotely held back by my blood, as I felt like my entire body was ready to explode into flames. The rage of all who relied on me. "Drake was a great fox!" Drake choked out between laughing fits, doubled over with his paw on his stomach. "Gave you support! Killed my own blood! Hahahahahah! Well, I did do that, although Lance was the one that got vaporized! Hahahahah!" he continued, just fuelling my fury. And then he said -it-. "Oh oh oh! And remember, when Lance shot that certain friend of yours? Do you remember that day? There were THREE screams... You never bothered to wonder whose the third was, hahah!" Now, instantly my eyes shot up from the ground and locked on his, hanging on what he was about to say. I felt like his life was hanging on what he would say next, because as far as I was concerned, it was. "It was Lance's!! Hahahah! He had no idea that gun was loaded with real rounds! He thought it was loaded with stingers! Oh man, the look on his face was almost as good as yours!!" With a war cry that literally made the railings we were standing on vibrate very slightly, fangs bared as much as they could be, I grabbed my swords back in a death grip, stumbled to my foot paws already in a sprint before I'd even gotten off the ground, and charged Drake with vision that was already as red as the blood I wanted to bathe in. Even Drake only barely managed to defend, the sound of searing-hot metal clashing echoing throughout the near-empty walls of the entire satellite. *** "Grant, please. I know how high hopes you had for this boy and this project, but you have to accept this. The last thing we heard is that Lance's satellite, which we now know to be equipped with -warship- class weaponry, opened fire on Kira's -advanced fighter- ship, the Zig. There is NO WAY HE HAS SURVI-" "He's alive." Sir Jonas, as he was simply called, the current Secretary of Defense, stared wordlessly at Grant's somber interruption, then sat back on his chair. The two were the only furs in the RGMA's cafeteria, as everyone else was either at classes, in their dorms, or still recovering from the skirmish. Jonas, as good as he was at seeing through masks, was having great difficulty telling if Grant was depressingly apathetic, or stubbornly neutral. Then again, Jonas always had trouble seeing through Grant's masks. He was also having trouble determining if his insisting that Okhami was still alive was childishly stubborn or hopefully determined. Or, of course, if he really did have some post-sensual knowledge of the husky actually being alive. The equine sighed and continued to stir some spaghetti around with the cheap plastic fork, surprisingly adept at handling it despite the rare case of being born with hooves on both his back AND front paws. Him and Grant often came here to eat when no one else was around, something about being in the element of the young newbies to the military that was comforting. 'Or maybe we both just miss our younger days when the fate of millions didn't ride on our decisions,' Jonas thought with dry humour, staring at his food. "Grant... I know how much this kid means to you. But please, think of it from my perspective. I don't know what's happened to him, I don't know if he's alive or dead, all's I know is that that satellite is still up there and heading here. If any shit goes down, it'll be on my head. I'm not saying we blow it out of the sky yet, just... We can at least send another team or two up there, y'know?" Grant looked pensive, and his expression remained stoic, but Jonas could see the change in his eyes. "Fine... Send up another team, just to get your head out of the fire in the almost impossible chance that Okhami can't handle it." Jonas smirked his thanks, and downed some more of the cheap spaghetti with a smile and a wince. "Why do you like this kid so much, anyway?" "Well, partially for the classic response of, 'he reminds me of me.' He's also a lot more straightforward and laid back than I was, he speaks his mind and often can't hide it even when he wants to. He has this strange, childlike approach to everything because he ignores rules unless they're logical. And probably most of all is how much we all owe Kaworu." "Ah, that's right, it's his kid isn't it? That makes more sense coming from you," Jonas said with a smile, which faded at Grant's passiveness and he went back to his food. More silence. "What about that girl of his? How's she going?" "That 'girl of his', Jonas, is one of our finest Captains if you've forgotten. And she's fine, can't walk yet but is recovering nicely." "Hahah, my mistake, of course. You've been so uptight lately. I guess with your instant rise to the top you're still a bit green, huh?" Grant didn't answer, but simply took another bite from his cheap, way-too-greasy pizza. *** Over and over, I charged at Drake. My vision was practically crimson now, instinct driving me to differentiate him from the background, and each time, I threw only a few swings, missing him each time before he'd kick me back again. And each time, I'd slide across the ground, not even register any damage, and charge right back. In the beginning, he was toying with me; he didn't exactly try to hide it. But as it wore on, his face slowly faded from a smirk to a determined frown, then to an outright glare. As it was, he didn't have any time to compose himself after each of my attacks. I didn't need the time, in my current state. After what felt like 10 seconds to me and probably around 10 minutes to him, I finally landed a blow. My sword cleaved straight through his armour, digging deep into his shoulder, and was only stopped when the insides I was slashing through like butter turned even sturdier than my own blade and pushed up, forcing it out. He let out a grunt of pain, but just like that, it was flawlessly healed. Normally I would have growled and paused, but in my state, I didn't care. I wouldn't have stopped attacking until he was shredded into his base atoms. I pushed my second blade right into his chest, missing as he moved his heart, then slashed the blade after it. I was near wounding it, when his flesh pushed my blade out again. Just when I aimed a third slash for his neck, he disappeared into the ground, rose a bit out of my range, then sent a metallic, extended paw into my gut, knocking me back against the wall of the ship with a heavy thud. I seemed to hit my head in a particularly bad place and I was dazed for a moment; just long enough, sadly, to make my bloodthirst start to fade. I tried to use one of my blades to stand up, pushing it against the ground, but as soon as I rose from my position my head pounded so hard I thought I'd just been hit again and fell right back down, letting out a restrained grunt. This, naturally, was accompanied by an arrogant - yet, I noticed, slightly pained - chuckle from Drake. "Grant was right... You ARE dangerous when you lose yourself," he said in a voice of mock respect, slowly trotting up to me. Just out of range of my blades, I noted. "Why, Drake...?" was all I replied with, feeling my skull throb as I talked. The anger had almost completely faded to hopelessness. "Why? Simple. We don't deserve to live," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We? Who do you mean? Do you even know?" I growled dryly, already sick of his pathetic reason before I'd even heard it out. "Everyone. Furres, humans, drakes, the lot. Because we're all the same. Greed. Selfishness. Fear. We're pathetically flawed, and we don't deserve to rob this planet of the oxygen we breathe. Have you figured out what that human was talking about to you, yet? About you stealing something, or whatever he said?" Drake asked, turning to me with a half-mad stare. I shook my head with a repressed snarl. "Heh... Hundreds of years ago, Earth belonged to the humans. Originally us furres were just like the Domestics we have here. Long story short, evolution kicked in and we kicked the humans out. Are you really that surprised they want revenge?" Drake hypothetically asked me, voice becoming more and more aggressive. "So instead they try to take it back with war? They play our game then complain when they lose at it?" Drake looked a little shocked that I'd say something as Right-Wing as that, but continued on after as if I'd said nothing. "And... That they'd dare take my love away from me... That they'd DARE say we couldn't continue to love!" Now, Drake was pacing in front of me. Occasionally, he'd turn his back to me, wide open. His expression was showing typical signs of psychosis, and I knew that if there was ever an opportunity, it would be soon. My paws tightened on my hilts. "Just because... We were DIFFERENT! We were EXILED! If I hadn't taken the fall, both of us would have been! Then, Grant, oh Grant... He couldn't even stick up for me?! After all I did for him, he just, just stood there as I was demoted? And now, when we see each other again, he acts like we're just casual friends? BULLSHIT!" Drake snarled, making my eyes widen, very slightly, as I realized who the 'we' in his Shakespearean past was. But that thought soon faded; He was talking to himself, and had almost completely forgotten I was even there. But every so often, he'd turn back to me. 'Too soon...' "I'm meant to be your teacher, right?" Drake said, turning to me. His eyes were misty, his voice all of a sudden soft, and I could almost see the Drake I knew. "I'll teach you something, then. The only thing of use that I, or anyone else, will ever teach you. You're scum. I'm scum. The lot of us are scum. And I..," he began, walking away from me. His back was turned. "Am doing you the biggest favor you will ever know..," He said, voice going back to its aggressive side, and just as I pushed my blade into the center of his back, I knew I was too late. He knew I was coming all along, and he did nothing to stop me as the lukewarm metal slid in through his flesh. "... Whether you know it or not," he said, the last of his sanity fading as his paw jammed down on the typical giant red button of the ion satellite's console, and the red glow from below our platform began to spread through the room, intensifying, as the cannon gathered its energies. His flesh, turning to metal, threw out my blade again. He tried to attack when I was off guard but I was, for once in my life, a step ahead. I parried his blade, striking with my offhand, which was easily blocked, then flipped back as he went for a kick to the gut. "Remember how you got a report in the meeting room with the other officials, Okhami, about how the human technology was advanced? Who do you think planted that information?" he said with a sadistic giggle. My eyes widened as I realized it was his intention to lure our entire army out, then snarled and charged him again. He guarded, and I locked blades with him, snarling and forcing him back against a wall with all the strength I could gather. He kept giggling, only fuelling me, not that I could hear it too well over the loud hum of the Ion Cannon's charging. Just as a giant stalagmite of metal started to erupt from the ground beneath me, I caught on to his tactic. I back hopped behind it, and as it curved after me, I focused as hard as I could and sent it curving right around and back towards Drake. I heard him laugh, the spike's progress stopping just before it could impale him. "Not bad!" he chuckled, leaving the spike where it was, jumping over it and pouncing at me blade first. 'He's not blocking my ability to alter things, he's blocking things' ability to be altered... Which means anytime he alters something, so can I..,' I thought to myself as I easily parried his blows. As a dual wielder I had the defensive (and since I was skilled, offensive too) advantage, so I had time to think out a strategy like this. Drake was damn good with his blade, but there's only so much you can do against someone who knows how to properly wield two weapons. That didn't stop him from getting the odd hit, sadly. Every so often he'd get a lucky cut in, but then, for every one of his cuts I got in about five. Every time he'd go to craft something, I'd redirect it. Usually no one was hit. A number of times the spikes and blades from the room gave me a nasty cut, and a few times I even got him back. But he was winning severely on that front. We went at this for at least three full minutes, me mostly ducking, jumping and weaving around his slashes, counter slashing at every opportunity. Soon, the room was red, both from the glow of the rapidly charging ion cannon, and from our combined blood layering the walls, floor, and in some spots, even the ceiling. I even got in a heavy slash to his chest, narrowly missing a rib when he slipped and fell on a pool of his own blood. I snarled, whereas Drake just giggled at me and melted into the ground, only just missing me when he dropped down half-liquidized from the roof. "Heh... Give it up Okhami. Sure, you have the weapon advantage, but isn't it obvious that I have the advantage when it comes to our blood?" He was right, of course. I could parry and attack forever, but his crafting was too quick for me to ever hit a critical spot, and I had a bad feeling he was skilled enough to be able to keep his adrenaline flow going as long as he needed it to. I could increase mine, but not infinitely. He would outlast me. "Every single bit of metal in my body is completely under my control. Every single trace of metal on this ship is mine to do with what I wish. Even the tiny particles of metal in the air are at my command. What can you hold to that, when you think closing a door with your mind is an achievement?" he mocked, demonstrating this as, with my own two eyes, I saw a tiny sphere of various metals rapidly form in front of my eyes, gathering the particles that were simply present in the satellite's air, and attempted to shoot into my eye. I growled and deflected it with a hilt, parrying another slash with both my blades and lunging to throw him off balance. It worked, but only long enough to gash his arm, which was of course instantly healed. And the light bulb went off. "Hey, didn't you claim the humans had some kind of weird atom bomb?" I said, not having to try hard to inject the mocking tone into my voice that I wanted, slashing all the while as I talked. "What, you don't think it's believable? Apparently they actually DID have it, although of course I just made it up, research shows that they actually had one. Genius, no?" Jackpot. Drake was thinking I was getting comfortable in the fight and casual, despite putting all my effort into finishing it in time to stop the cannon. Knocking him off guard again, I jumped back a good distance and let one of my blades drop to the ground. I needed a paw spare for this. "So, what if I use that tactic?" I said with a smartass smirk. Drake just laughed and shook his head, scratching his muzzle with his spare paw. He really was getting irritatingly casual. "Please, I've tried it. Atoms are too hard to split. You need too much concentration. A species as flawed as us couldn't possibly do it." "Oh really? Arrogant enough to wager that with your life?" I asked, raising a paw in front of me, glaring and straining my fist as I concentrated on attempting to deconstruct one of the atoms near Drake. He laughed, but after a moment, began to look worried. He could see how confident I was. After a few moments, he relaxed again, and burst out laughing. "Yeesh, don't worry me like that Okhami! To make explosions with your mind would be far too advanced for you." I laughed along with him, but it was dry. "Of course it would be. You don't really think I'm THAT slow, do you?" I asked, and lowered my paw. Drake looked confused, and concerned, for only a moment, before I indicated my left arm - which was now missing. "You're the slow one, I think, Drake," I said as I made a motion of pulling my arm back. Instantly Drake looked behind him, expecting some cheesy ploy of a detached arm holding a sword no doubt. He found nothing, until my blade, finally, slid into the right spot, spearing right through him and bursting from his chest in a bloody spray powered by my lunging thrust. Sensing his internal structure, as he'd long since let down the barrier stopping me from crafting in his deteriorating state of mind, my blade easily found its mark in his heart. 'For me,' I thought, and with a quick twist before he could react, I made sure the damage was beyond repair. 'And for Ash.' "Y-... You..." he managed to choke out, staring up at me disbelieving as I let my paw slide out from inside my coat - a trick that would have trouble fooling a preschooler. "Paranoia. Naivety. And expecting cheesy tactics. Common symptoms of psychosis, and too much TV when you sat at home brooding after you were demoted. Come on Drake, I can't even craft without being in contact with something like you can, let alone craft on a molecular basis," I stated hollowly as I slid out my blade and turned away, going back to pick up my off hander. "You sneaky bastard..," Drake gasped, collapsing to his knees behind me. Picking up my blade, I resheathed both of them, and casually walked past the blood-soaked fox, not even giving him a glance as I went to work on the terminal. "I learn from the best," I said dryly, which got a chuckle from him. I shook my head, not wanting to entertain the pathetic thing any more, and began trying to find an emergency shutdown. "Why... Why do you try so hard to be accepting? Why do you make so many exceptions for them?" he asked, now stomach down on the ground and obviously breathing his last. "I don't, Drake. I only give people as much acceptance as I feel they deserve. I guess you do the same; you just have too high standards. People aren't perfect, which is what makes them interesting. Cut them some slack when they do stupid shit and try and find someone who's more perfect in your own eyes," I replied, my voice more tired than anything, though it was also out of not wanting to focus on him while I focused on stopping the cannon. That shut him up. For a moment, anyway. I was growing progressively frustrated, and had no clues in any shutdown script. Finally, after I'd thought he'd gone, Drake let out a raspy chuckle. "There... Is no shutdown... Sorry kid..." My eyes widened and I spun around, striding swiftly to him and picking him up by his collar with my best glare. "What do you MEAN there isn't a shutdown?!" I snarled, fangs bared. "I mean... There isn't a shutdown... I didn't think you'd win, so... I didn't bother packing a... Consolation prize..," he said, giggling again in his psychotic, pre-death stupor. I growled again and let him drop, hearing a pained yelp, and stalked back to the console. There HAD to be a way. I'd tried everything. Crafting around to disconnect the system wouldn't do anything as the ion cannon already had the orders to charge then fire. Crafting the entire satellite to fire in another direction would take far too long. As it finally dawned on me that Drake was telling the truth and there really was no stopping it, I heard the door open and instinctively drew my blades. I turned to see Ken and Hisoka standing in the doorway, not a moment different from when I'd left them. I nodded to them solemnly, re-sheathing the swords. "Shit..," Hisoka muttered, looking at the chaos of the room, and of course the chaos of myself and Drake. The room was practically dripping in blood, the floor, walls and ceiling were heavily warped from all of Drake's crafting, and along with the heavy red glow, it looked, from the outside, nothing short of demonic. Ken was more professional, though he still looked pensive about stepping paw in the room. "We found an escape pod. I take it everything's wrapped up here?" "Not by a long shot," I said, instantly rushing towards them. "The satellite's already got the orders to fire, I can't stop it. We have to go down and warn Grant. I think he'll be at the Octagon reporting back to the rest of the military, 'cus that's where the satellite's locked onto, and this jackass was likely well informed. Sometimes I wonder if this entire campaign of Drake's was to piss me off... We should have just enough time to warn them from the looks of things, this thing takes ages to charge. It may be heavy technology, but it's also unfinished technology." They looked worried, but nodded none the less. I followed them out the door, not wanting to give Drake a final moment, but he stopped me with what he said. His voice was, for now, back to its softer, calm self. "Tell Grant... I said I love him..," Drake whispered. I shook my head and shot back a glare, snarl curling my muzzle. "Nice try, jackass. As if a practiced psychologist would want the one they loved to be in the pain Grant would be in, if he knew that the psychotic madman his lover had become had some sense left. You're just trying to fuck with him more," I said, earning shocked glances from the three others in the room. At least, until Drake went back into his giggling fits. "Busteeed," he cackled as we left in disgust. Even after we'd taken the elevators down, Drake continued to giggle, euphoric off the chemicals his body pumped to try and keep him alive. Thankfully, it wasn't long before the giggling slowed down, then ceased. *** Thankfully, as I'd expected, there were still a few remaining military personnel stationed on cleanup at Praxedis. As soon as we landed we rushed to the nearest port, flashed the security our IDs, and commandeered the fastest craft we could find... Which I ended up regretting, if only a little. Fast as it was, I felt absolutely ridiculous piloting a supped up Nishan Horizon, complete with green neons and a massive spoiler. Why would you even put a spoiler on a GROUND craft, let alone a SPACE one? Some people, I swear. *** Despite the rush, despite the emergency, I couldn't help but feel bigheaded as I burst through the corridors of the infamous Octagon. Even if it was defunct as the number one military HQ, it was still a huge outpost for it. I recognized the Secretary of Defense sitting opposite none other than Grant. I gave both a salute which the Secretary of Defense, to my surprise, returned. Grant was a bit too off-guard to be quick about it. "Okhami, what on Earth-" "Yes, yes, blohblohbloh, shut up for a second Grant," I said, interrupting him. I could tell, as casual as Grant was, he didn't like me being so casual in front of other officials, although the equine Secretary of Defense got a good chuckle out of it. "The person controlling the satellite wasn't Lance, it was Dr-, I mean, James. James Drake. He wasn't dead, after all. He is now though, I finished him off, not before he could program the Ion Cannon to fire another round though. It's charging as we speak, and I think it's almost done. If its programming is correct then it's going to eradicate the Octagon off the planet. Thankfully, not much more than that'll be effected. We need to evac immediately, I don't have the strength for another barrier," I finished, giving Grant a very serious stare to let him know I was just that. I hoped and prayed that Grant could keep his strength up long enough to do what needed to be done. Grant looked over to the horse, who gave a nod, then looked back to me. "Great job Okhami. We'll get it underway immediately." I was a little taken aback at how well he managed to take the news, considering what I now knew about the two. I was hoping he'd barely cope, but the mouse was acting as if nothing was amiss; Grant never ceased to amaze me with his strength, whether it be physical or mental. Instantly the Secretary of Defense was off, already shouting orders, and it wasn't even 10 seconds before I heard an announcement over the PA. I smirked at their organization and gave Grant a nod as he began gathering up people. With a chuckle, I hardwired my paw into a mini-megaphone and handed it too him to use. He gave me a raised brow, before shaking his head. "You really need to learn how to be more dramatic about this whole LiM thing, y'know?" he said, before he put on his gruff General voice and started barking orders. I could already hear the realization settling in as his voice threatened to break. *** As soon as we were in shelter, an Energy Mercury building not unlike the one on the RGMA campus, attention went to someone else who was giving safety instructions. I could feel as Grant relaxed and became 'just another guy'. The tension it must have relieved for him was incredible, and then it really hit me just how much he hated being the guy in charge. After a moment's hesitation, I laid a paw on his shoulder; he looked over at me after a moment, keeping up the strong front. It didn't last long, as I mouthed the words, "I'm sorry," and that was all it took for the poor mouse to collapse into my arms. He was quiet, obviously not wanting to draw attention, but he was clinging tightly to me, back shuddering as he sobbed, tears rapidly making rivers through my fur. I paused only a moment, catching up with the scenario, before I held him to me and let a paw move through his hair. I hadn't seen anyone break down so badly since Coda after Ash died, but I really was expecting it. I tuned out to what the person over the PA was saying, instead just focusing on Grant, trying to beat away how honored I felt at Grant treading me like such an equal like this and just comfort the poor guy. He was shivering almost uncontrollably, clinging to me as if I'd try to shake him off and leave him, the occasional sob or gasp for air only just being heard over the speaker. Luckily, due to the recent skirmish people expected some casualties, regardless of the fact there weren't actually any, and assumed him mourning. Well, he was by all technicalities, even if it was for the other side. It was a while before he stopped crying, although not as much as I was expecting. I smirked as he finally stood up, closing his eyes in silent thanks to me as he procured a handkerchief and began cleaning himself up. I gave him a slight chuckle, shaking my head to tell him it was no problem, and turned my attention back to the speaker. "Anytime, Grant," I said in a soft, warm voice, which earnt a weak, but equally warm smile from him. And then, everything went to hell again. Like a wrecking ball slamming through the building, the word 'Alex' almost bowled me over. I stumbled to regain myself and burst for the door and I shouted her name. Instantly, I felt Grant pull me into an arm lock and hold me back. "She's got to be in here somewhere Okhami, calm down!" he yelled, but his words were hollow. He knew it was too late, and we both knew she wasn't here. With a grunt, followed shortly by a frustrated yell, I vaulted forward and threw Grant clear over my head. He flew a few meters before landing half-gracefully beside the door, but by the time he was ready again, I was long past him. It didn't take me long to find her; she was gradually crawling out of the hospital ward, apparently unable to even walk. My heart sank as I saw her... Well, not only her, but the ion gathering around her. The beam would already be approaching by the looks of it, I barely had enough time to see her before I thought I heard it coming. She locked eyes with me, but they only voiced dismay that I was here instead of in the safety of the building. My heart almost broke at that. I wouldn't let her go. With a single, final resort and a determined cry, I flung myself over her form, turning to energy mercury as quickly as I could, almost smack on time for the blast to hit us. Even though I didn't think she heard me, I was relieved enough when I forced out those three words that I was able to let myself faint. *** To be honest, I remember very little of the next few hours... Or even the next few years, for that matter. The main mental images that stay prevalent throughout my mind are those of regaining myself just as the ion energy dissipated from the air. I think Grant was even faster than me in getting to the hospital, but by the time he was there I was already sobbing over Alex's mutilated remains. About a quarter of her overall mass was simply gone, and what was left was still beaten up badly. Half of her skull was missing, that was probably the worst part, and what stays in my mind the most. I barely even noticed the fact that I'd lost a few inches of flesh from the back of my entire form, and I don't recall having two working arms, one way or another. The smell, that stays as well. Burnt fur is one of the worst smells in the world, but it's so much worse when you know it's come from a furre, let alone from the one you love. The other image I have is of leaning down, and just hearing her shallow, weak breathing. Being relieved she was alive. The pain I felt, if not nearly as much as hers, as I asked one last favor of her with her dying effort. *** ... "Okhami..." ... *** "Oh come on! You can do better than that!" Grant, a mid-teen hybrid dog with fluffy white fur with black markings, though definitely not a Labrador, yelled as he easily stole the soccer ball from the enemy striker and sped up the field with it. All his team was on the other side of the field, still in defense. He laughed, shaking his head as he took a hopeless shot at a goal. The goalie had little problem catching it, though the fact he had any problem at all made Grant pretty proud of himself. He called a timeout and collapsed onto the ground on his back, looking back behind him over where the adults were. He blinked a bit, losing his smile as he saw someone talking to his dad. He was a short... Well, he looked like a husky. Only, from this far away, it almost looked like he had scales. Was he even a he? On second look, Grant thought he may've been able to make out the telltale mounds of a female. To further the lizard argument, its tail was thick at the base and lessened into a spike. "Like a lizard one," Grant muttered as he jumped up, yelling something at the other kids as he was about to run to his dad. When he turned back around though, the husky-creature was already gone; he decided to ask anyway. "Hey, Ash!" Ash laughed, running a paw through his head fur as his son ran up to him. "I thought I told you not to call me that? I'm your dad, act like it," he mock scolded, gripping his son's extended hand in a teenage-esque handshake for a moment as if they were friends rather than family. "What's up?" "Who was that... Person, you were just talking to?" Grant asked, eyes wide and innocent as ever. "None of your concern!" Ash exclaimed jokingly. He paused for a moment, seeing it wouldn't get past Grant, then rolled his eyes. "Just... An old friend," he responded to the silence, chuckling to himself as he looked up to the sky. Grant followed his gaze and found nothing. Knowing when his dad went into one of his odd daydreams, Grant rolled his eyes and began walking back to the field. "If you insist," he muttered, sometimes being a bit embarrassed by his often spacey dad. Ash ignored him, chuckling again as he winked to the figure on the rooftops. He could barely make out a reptilian eye wink back, before without even a blur, it was gone. ***THE END***