@omnilimitâ || Cloud & Squall || Battle through the Hailstorm
Commander of Balamb Garden...ironically, it was the day to day rough jobs and busy missions that kept Commander Leonhart focused at at peace, and it was the slow days full of average problems and SeeD and SeeD candidates invading his space that seemed to push him to the edge. But he pushed on, as he must--because who else would do it? Who else would run the Garden, and guide those within, and aid the people out there looking to them to take care of threats and concerns and struggles?
No one.
The fight, that was easy. The fighting was always as natural as breathing.
But the rest....why was it so....difficult? So unbearable...? Why did it feel so wrong?
It was the quiet hours that left Squall Leonhart to dwell on these thoughts and wonderings, so when he got a message in about a moderate to dangerous mission, he didnât hesitate to take it. Leaving Quistis in charge while he was gone, he simply brought Zell along. At most, they would be assessing what was wrong to be sure what was truly wrong and what sort of effort was needed to take care of it.
Taking bikes they had available in Balamb Garden, he and Zell made it to the location within the next few hours, and it was clear....the issue was more than heâd thought. He simply expected negotiations, perhaps recovery or a battle, given the vague concerns in the message. But what they were met with was a small city with a great, grand storm looming off in the distance, certainly emitting strange purple and green light.
His first, thrilling yet panicked thought was that the energy seemed like only something a Sorceress could summon. That would spell so much chaos for so many, so he would have to keep his eyes open, and hope it was something else. He started by working with the mayor and the authorities of the small city, advising an evacuation while he and Zell went to assess the energy looming closer and closer.
âCall Quistis--weâll need a few SeeD this way, depending on what this storm turns out to really be. I need you to hold here.â Squall commanded of Zell, as he climbed on his bike and started revving it.
âW-wait, what? Whatâre you doin?!â Zell questioned, hurrying to his side.
âI need to get closer--you know this is out of the norm, and thereâs too strong a possibility that this could be a new Sorceress, or worse....very few people or beings have power like this, and one of us has to get in closer to figure this out. I trust you to hold the line here, Zell.â he remarks, tone firm and sure, despite Zell looking worried and panicked, and certainly like he didnât want to stay behind.
âBut...I mean, you sure?â Zell asked, and Squall just nodded.
âI wonât be completely alone--Griever is with me...â he assured Zell, who knew mostly well but tended to forget that Squall was still linked with his last, final, and greatest Guardian Force. With that, he revved one last time, and took off. Straight into the storm, heart pounding, pulse racing.
There was fear, there was concern, there was dread, for he was no fool nor was he drunk on the thrills of chaos and battle that he craved it. But he had not felt more focused and sure of himself than he did, in this moment, racing forward to face trouble, to save innocents.
But as he drew nearer and nearer, getting closer towards itâs pull of air, he felt....heavy....sickly...dizzy. He tried to start slowing down, riding in the storms cycling direction as he feared a tornado was on its way, and he was looking, looking, looking for some sort of sign of an enemy or source or...something....but there was nothing...
Nothing...until he felt as if the very wind, or something other, gripped him and his vehicle, and suddenly he was being dragged to the middle of the storm, unable to drive away no matter how he tried, and the panic set in heavier. Certainly, he couldnât meet his end from some....unusual storm...? Zell would hold the line, the others would help, they would take care of this... Squall himself could face this. Heâd faced worse, right?
Suddenly, he felt dizzier, weary, and he grunted and groaned, gripping tight to the handles of his motorbike. The instinct to call forth Griever, in hopes he could help, perhaps even locate the enemy, but before he could manage to give the proper summon, despite feeling Griever struggling under the surface, he felt himself drifting, loosing control....loosing consciousness.
And as the dark consumed him....he saw wastelands...he saw himself, wandering, drifting....he saw....silver. Panic rising, the silver was marching ahead of him, with some flowing cloak or cape at the figures back....he could hear the storm, the tornado, and he new, the silver one was a part of it...somehow...
And then darkness.
Before finally, with a great loud caw over head, he woke with a start. Gasping, then coughing, then groaning, he sat up and looked around, noticing his bike a short distance away from where heâd landed in a heap. He could feel the bruises to come already present on his body from itâs landing. What he didnât see, however....was the city. No towers, no homes, not even rubble or remains of any destruction. It didnât even look as if the mountains that had been surrounding half the city were anywhere nearby anymore, either....it was just, vast wasteland for who knows how many miles.
âWhat....the hell?â he groaned, rubbing at his head as he looked further around at his surroundings. How far had that storm taken him...? He noted the road, dirt road, but no landmarks for miles, it seemed. He searched his pockets for his phone then....and came up with nothing. âDamn it...â he got up, and dragged himself over to his bike, checking itâs state and finding it rather beat up. Another sigh and shake of his head. Well, he was certainly rather screwed, and already second guessing his choices.
Thatâs when he heard someone, or people, incoming down the road. Brows furrowing he stood, looking, waiting. Enemy? Civilian? Zell? His eyes narrowed, on edge, waiting.
