Infinite Stratos: From Ashes

Author's note: I have some free time to think and watch some shows and came across this one, it looked good if not for the fanservice that this botched up anime turned out to be and I just want to ask you guys if the light novel was like the anime or just a tiny bit different in any way, let me know. Alright I think we know the drill.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Infinite Stratos series, nor do I plan to…seriously they give older women bigger boobs. Bigger boobs, it's like some crazy obsession I tell you.

From Death

"So this is what it means to die."

There is nothing here, no light nor signs of life…an endless void that seemed to creep up on my body as I laid there feeling emptiness apart from a reflective look upon my face as small slots of memories began to play in front of me, my frown simply deepened as I continued to look at my surroundings as if I expected someone to suddenly drag me out of this lonely place…anyone I knew in my life that could just take me by the hand and guide me towards a light and tell me that it was all a dream, or better yet that this was not happening and I was in a coma. The first memory popped in front of me, filling the void with a large white flash as I saw the light die down as quickly as it appeared before I found myself standing in a large living room with wooden boards making up the floor and a familiar set of black leather sofas sitting in front of a simple television while a small rectangular wooden table sat in the middle of the two sofas, a set of tea bags and a steaming mug of tea sat on the surface warming the wood when I swept my hand over the oak but the wafting trail of steam caught my eye. It wasn't floating up into vapor but instead it was…frozen, not like ice but real steam hanging in mid-air with no swirls or smoky trails continuing to billow from the cup. I recognized the furniture though, that made up the interior of me and my parents' living room, my hands fell immediately to my chest as I clutched my blood-stained school shirt by the collar tugging it weakly as I felt my mind being blocked from remembering.

"Mother? Father?" I asked timidly, my brain grimaced at the last word before I shook the dreaded feeling off and began to walk down the small hallway hearing tiny whispers beginning to sound in my eardrums as I made my way to my kitchen, the voices starting to increase in volume the closer I walked to the room.

Amasa…

Amasa…

"Who's there?" I turned around, the voices retreating into the corner of my mind as sweat poured down my slightly tanned skin. Seeing no one, I waited for a few moments to hear for any movements or sudden noises almost like the horror game videos I saw youtubers playing but found nothing…much to my relief. My focus coming back to me after that distraction, my hand reached out and curled over the silvery knob.

Amasa…

I felt the house grow cold as a chill came down my spine, my hand slowly turning the knob to the right while I heard the distinct click of the door being unlocked and I hesitantly opened the door to the room.

"You useless boy!"

Slap!

Amasa tumbled to the ground, his hand instantly covering his cheek as he felt a swell forming on his flesh as he tried to push himself up only to have a foot slam itself directly onto his ribcage, the child let out a cough as his eyes widened in shock from the sudden attack before he reared his head back on the hard tiled floor a weak hand reaching out to a fallen figure shrouded by the towering shadow of the unknown assailant who simply chuckled at the child's useless resistance.

"Really now, you couldn't get me anything…not a single packet of smokes?!" The man yelled in Amasa's ear as he leaned over Amasa, the child tilted his head refusing to look at the man above him as the foot grinded itself into his chest the 15 year old whimpering pathetically.

"Useless! Useless!" He screamed while simultaneously kicking the boy into unconsciousness, Amasa unable to fight back as the 15 year old boy felt the shoe slam repeatedly into his chest squeezing the breath out of him with each blow. Struggling once more, Amasa placed his palms on the ground and tried to lift himself only to see a fist drive straight into his eye making him howl out to no avail, instead making the shadow angrier with each scream as a flurry of punches rained down on the boy pummeling his body with knuckles and blood pouring out of his nose and mouth, the sheer force of the blows almost made a pool as the poor child felt numbness in his arms and chest as well as his shallow breaths being the only sound in the kitchen while the monster took his own rest, preparing for the next bout and glaring furiously at the broken child nursing his bruises.

"Some son you are, you're no son of mine!" Amasa stared up at the monster, his young child-like eyes refusing to believe what he was hearing and seeing as he felt another punch drive into his right eye smashing his head against the tiled floor for the umpteenth time tonight, bruising his eye and causing him to see white for a few moments before a foot slammed unto his knee causing him to cry out in pain before a slap silenced his timid screams for help, but Amasa chose to resist.

"Help, someone help me…" He called out weakly, the tip of a shoe met his cheek and the force behind the kick sent the child's body rolling onto his chest. Amasa took only a breath before he was dragged roughly by the scruff of his neck and flung onto his back, taking another slap across his face.

"You were going to rat me out, your own father? It doesn't matter, because even if you aren't here and child services take you away from me, I have your mother all to myself." The man simply spoke eerily calm, the boy tensed his muscles as he felt a shiver down his spine before he weakly turned his head upwards from the side and stared at the shadow above. The monster seemed to revel in that statement as he sneered madly at the powerless child before him, the eyes losing its defiant stare as Amasa began to understand what the monster wanted and gritted his teeth at the creature. "You know what, it's better if you actually rat out my actions and leave me and your mother to our own fun. Won't be the same without you bleeding and near death of course, but nevertheless it will be equally fun for me."

"Leave…Mother…out of this." He was replied with another slap, this time much stronger than the last sending his face smacking the floor once more, his cheek beginning to sore before the monster leaned over him, Amasa froze as his ear felt a tickle of hot breath against his ear, Amasa instantly panicking as he heard a strange sound coming from the man.

"You know, I hate defiant people." Amasa shivered when he heard the sound much more clearly, his left eye widening as he hastily looked to his left and right newfound strength returning to the child as he tried to use his palms to escape, only for a shoe to slam on his hand eliciting a scream from the child before a one hand grasped his mouth to shut him up. The monster of a man simply waited until Amasa's muffled words died in his parched throat before he resumed his earlier action, a hand going to his pant zipper while he watched the child's blue and bruised red eyes stare in horror as he shook his head.

"Defiant people…" He paused before he dug his hand into the forbidden territory of his pants, the child continued to struggle rapidly ignoring the burning sensations of his weakened body demanding that he stay still and recover from his injuries, the boy placing his only free hand onto the shoe trying desperately to shove it away as he heard the voice speak again, his eyes looking back up at emotionless blank ones.

"Should be punished."

"No…NO!" Amasa screamed in terror and refusal, his feet kicked wildly at the hands that fell upon his school uniform while he continued to resist a wild punch in between struggles, his belt coming undone in a fluid motion from the monster. Now screaming for his life, Amasa continued to kick and slap away the hands rapidly not caring for anything else before the shadow decided that it was enough and with a quick motion brought the belt of the young boy above his head, chuckling madly before it whipped Amasa's hand and the boy retracted his hand before he clutched the buckle of the black pants pulling it off violently.

"Stop this!" Amasa pleaded now, his strength leaving him as his forceful kicks now slowed down to pats against the man's stronger arms which tore the zipper of his son's pants and gripped the waistband of the child's pants and boxers, pulling it down with a single motion exposing the boy's most secret area to the world. Amasa found himself slowly losing consciousness as he stopped struggling against his father, instead turning his head to the side to at least avoid looking at the monster as he performed his devious act. But unfortunately it would not be so.

A hand grasped his head and spun it upwards to face the man who was grasping something dark and tall in his own hand, like a tower that seemed to scream power upon the young innocent child as the man took in Amasa's own terrified look before he spoke the next words in a sadistic tone.

"Now let's make you squeal." He spoke as his other hand took the boy's throat and lifted the child up in the air, the boy unable to speak nor take his eyes off the tower before a woman's voice shrilled behind him, stunning the man and Amasa who turned his head weakly towards the figure still on the floor, the shadow of the man disappearing to reveal a grown woman in her 20s struggling to stabilize herself on her hands and knees a fist on the floor breathing heavily in ragged breaths. Blood ran from a head wound and covered half of her face as her exposed arms carried the scars of many other 'accidents' to which her mother would always tell him whenever her son would notice it, the boy soon grew up to know that those scars were not from falling down or even slipping the kitchen knife. He knew soon that something was wrong with the household, everything about it was messed and his father…well his father was not a happy guy and whenever Amasa pranked him, the man would scowl and go up calling his mother as he did so. When they were done, he went back down calm as a feather and would do what he normally did while his mother would take a few minutes to even get ready and come downstairs, and Amasa would remember that when she did he would notice her shivering and her hands would quake without warning especially when he surprised her and she jumped, screaming incoherent things. Now he knew, and knowing his father's pattern this wouldn't be the end of the night.

"What did you just say to me, bitch?" He muttered, stalking towards his mother like a predator about to swallow his prey before he raised the belt in the air and brought it down...

The white flash disappeared, leaving nothing but the kitchen in place of the memory as Amasa looked at the room with a displeased look on his face. He recognized it, the memory was a stain upon his life he could never erase nor forget so easily…it sickened him still, knowing what his father planned to do with him but his mother managed to stop the madman from finishing his task.

At what cost?

"You are truly a boy of tragedy, Amasa." Amasa felt his body shiver as he looked around the room, his eyes frantically scanning the kitchen before he moved towards the knife rack that hung on the wall his hand reaching to grab the handle of the biggest one, only to fall into despair when he realized his fingers were not gripping the wooden handle but going through it. The young teen felt his body shift as though the small portal-like wall was trying to suck him in, the young man gripping his hand which was still passing through the wall and with a violent tug pulled his limb back quickly and took a look for any wounds, sighing in relief that he still had his fingers in place before he addressed the roof of the kitchen a slight quiver in his voice.

"Who are you?"

"This memory is the earliest of your train of abuse that would haunt you for the next 5 years of your life, each one more horrid than the last

"Are you God?" He questioned, his feeling mixed with a sense of curiosity and yet caution of the voice that addressed him directly before a soft whisper echoed through the room once more in response.

"I am. And you are Amasa, a word that is detestable as a name. You are also the victim of abuse in your own household, and your father's final victim just as you died by his hand…a bloodstained shirt and your heart pierced." The voice spoke softly, almost like a father addressing his child and Amasa couldn't help but feel safe in the presence of this strange entity. Turning around, he tried to look for the source of the voice but to no avail as he only met the walls of his haunting memory, a feeling of weightiness and sorrow gripping him as he placed a hand over his chest wound and looked.

"Ugh!" He could only gag as he stared at the small hole carved carelessly and without precision into his body with pieces of skewered meat still hanging onto the clumps of the torn shirt, the amount of torn flesh around the killing blow was plentiful he lost count at how many stab wounds he took to his chest when he was still alive Amasa simply slipped a finger through the hole feeling the depth of the abuse his body took after death, the teenager snorted in disgust as he dug the rest of his fingers through the small hole and felt around for his target before he felt his fingers wrap around something squishy, his finger tracing the surface to find a tiny open slit as his fist began to tighten around the organ…

"Enough, you do not need to see it. Know that even when you died, your father would face the charges he has avoided for a long time." Amasa felt his hand stop, the teen removing a bloodied hand from his chest with his face crestfallen at his own life. His sorrow turned back to thought, he was dead here and talking with God…a God that was all powerful and someone who could create miracles through prophets and men he chose for his will! An entity that he thought long never existed as years went by, when years of prayers for his father to turn from his ways had no signs of progress and in fact his father would instead grow much more violent each day…and now he says that his father, for all he did would finally face the music when he killed his own son? It made no sense to Amasa, God was supposed to be able to protect people wasn't he…he was supposed to be an almighty God who could do anything and prevent anything from happening, and now he is dead his father would get the punishment that he deserves? All these thoughts began to bubble to the surface, his mind churning with the thought of his mother's grief-stricken face when she saw her husband pounce on Amasa when he finally had enough of the years of fear.

"I control you, I OWN you."

"You've been anything but a father to me!" Amasa yelled back at his father, seeing the older man red-faced and angry gave the teen some confidence as he continued to taunt his father, clenching his fists at his sides. They had just gotten back from a trip, and as per usual his father had gotten angry at something trivial back at the cashier's and again he would try to take it out on his punching bag…except Amasa was more grown up and stronger. The two didn't say anything when they got back from the supermarket and it was only until the door closed behind them did they get into an argument with his father being petty and Amasa just shooting back at his father with sarcastic replies and insults.

Which led to the current situation at hand, Amasa gripped his fist in anger as his father continued to berate his uselessness and being nothing but a burden.

"You don't understand yet, you aren't my son! You're a spawn from that whore of a woman that you can still call mother!"

"Is that what you think? Huh? You think my mother's a whore and that even with her apologies and crying, you would forgive her! The Bible said-"His father lost it at that, his reddening cheeks already getting redder and his anger spewing out like venom as he emphasized his thoughts with a wad of spit in front of his son.

"FUCK THE BIBLE! It's nothing to me, you can take that preacher's garbage and swallow it like you always did…you are just like your mother, a whore!" Amasa was losing his cool as he noticed the knife rack behind his father, the teen fighting the urge to not start a fight as he found himself drawn towards the knife rack as his father continued to berate and insult him further, spit flying in all directions from the man's rotten mouth and onto Amasa's face before he glared at his father and spun on his heel much to the older man's shock.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Amasa simply turned back and glared at his 'father' before speaking once more, this time in a furious tone as he stepped towards his father and sized him up speaking as he did so.

"Where do you think? My room, because I just realized something after all these years of living with someone like you. You are not even a real man, you're a person who got hurt many years ago by your own dad who probably hit you and used you as a sex toy whenever he got frustrated, and you're repeating the damn cycle over to two people you don't actually know except that one is your son and the other is your wife. You thought you could just walk over us and exert authority and have the right to throw your weight and fist around, just to puff up your cheeks and have no action to back up your spineless hide!" Amasa jabbed a finger into his father's chest, seeing the older man shrink back slightly from the teen's outburst fed his confidence as Amasa looked into the man's eyes and saw nothing but fear before he turned and walked towards the kitchen door.

"You don't deserve my respect." Amasa stated plainly before he opened the door and walked away, or he would have had he not noticed his father grab a knife from the rack and was rushing at him with a maddened look on his face.

"YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME?!" Amasa did not manage to react in time, the blade sinking into his chest as he tumbled backwards taking his dreadful father down with him while a wide-eyed expression of shock and horror crossed Amasa's face before he was punched across the face once again, feeling the fist collide on a weaker strike compared to his earlier years before the knife retracted, spilling blood on the teenager turning young adult's face with the spots of blood before the knife carved into another spot near the initial stab wound and was retracted and stabbed again. And again. And again.

Amasa stopped moving after the 20th strike, the light that illuminated his eyes...telling people that he was alive, was dimming and Amasa could not even speak let alone move his body as a coldness set into his veins, chilling his numb body even though he could not feel it. And as he expired, his father's face constantly diving in front of him and screaming bloody murder and plenty of other things that could have been insults he heard soft echoes coming from the hallway before he heard the distinct sound of something dropping and he tilted his head further backwards, a pang of guilt hitting his heart.

His mother standing there, her dress already creased and worn fluttered helplessly in the air as she had her hands over her head, mouth agape and a strange eerie ringing in his ears as he saw her slide to her knees and tear at fistfuls of her ruined ebony hair while unable to move or react accordingly, watching helplessly and screaming as his body shook again for the 25th count and Amasa closed his eyes.

"So this is what...it means to die."

Where was he? Where was God when he was being attacked? He wanted to know why his father could have just disappeared and never return to their lives, it was a better end to it than him lying on the ground bleeding. God could have stepped in to save him right then, he figured at least…he could have even prevented this from happening, something to at least keep his father at bay with some legal tape or chance that he was discovered stabbing his own son to death.

Amasa wanted to scream, yell, throw something or maybe just rip up paper to rid himself of these vile thoughts. He had just became a Christian, much to the chagrin of his father who of course spat in the face of religion and believed in being self-righteous and followed the Hindu teachings of being free to do whatever you wished. Whether that teaching existed or not, Amasa never cared so much for it. He knew of self-control, and that if he was dealing with God he had to tread carefully with what he said, but yet something continuously bugged him.

Why didn't his family abuse stop? He was sure his father knew when to stop, there were times when he would stop in later years and forget hitting he and his mother instead wandering around for days on end without coming home at all. Those times were the only shreds of peace he ever had with his mother, where the two of them would try their best to come out of their respective shells and actually say or spend time with one another despite the awkwardness of separation the abuse created. Amasa just wanted those days again, no father, just his mother and him living together with a divorce certificate to remind them of the chance they were given at a better life.

But complaining about it was useless in its own regard, he was already dead…he had nothing to return to except the afterlife of heaven or hell, whichever he was regarded to belong in. A part of him did want revenge or with his current situation demand answers to why this wasn't resolved sooner, or maybe a different parent would have sufficed. But even then his reasoning prevailed over his thoughts as he curled his fingers into fists while he eyed the ceiling, hearing the voice once more speaking in an elaborate tone.

"The truth of the matter is that your father had multiple chances to stop, when I created you I always gave my creations the split-second time limit, a moment in time where your instincts do pause in its behavior when you're about to do something I do not approve of. Take it as a pocket moment, where your instincts or your spirit win the argument of whether to proceed with whatever you planned to do or just stop. Each and every time I gave him that chance, he didn't take the path of retracting his hand and saying sorry…and those chances were wasted when he began to reject my salvation." The voice spoke sadly, a kind tone still underlying his words as Amasa noticed the surrounding house fading away before his eyes, the teenager unable to even respond as he took time to process this, feeling a sliver of anger still residing inside of him but he pushed it away to the back of his mind as he addressed the voice.

"So what now? This is the time where you pick whether I go to heaven or hell."

"Not picking, it had been decided where you were going to go from your actions alone. You were one of a kind, hardly anyone has the same kind of heart you have for others, yet you were also aware of your limits to what you can do and did not attempt to misuse your kindness. If anything you were helpful and despite maybe a lie or two, you always were ready to correct your mistake. But instead of the afterlife, I have a proposal for you if you're interested in hearing it."

"You know my heart since you made it, I am a man who's interested yet curious." Amasa said firmly, his personal feelings put aside for this sudden turn of events as he heard the voice speak again at him from above the dark abyss.

"Excellent, there is a world…not your Earth, but one of many. This world is connected to yours in a way, but the technology is much more advanced than yours. I should warn you that if you should undertake this mission it will mean that you are willing to live another life, instead of your time coming to an abrupt end." The voice elaborated further on the task, Amasa now raised his eyebrows at that with only little intrigue before the omnipotent entity mentioned one last statement.

"A family of two, siblings, are about to lose the only family they have left. Their parents and a third are elsewhere on their own path, but I fear destruction of these three children that I ask of you whether you would choose to take on the guise of yet another name and life in order to save them from this path they walk." Amasa had to pause at that, his interest piqued further by the proposal's mention of family and he held his forehead with a groan as a headache came to him.

"I CONTROL YOU, I OWN YOU…and there is nothing you can do about it."

"Ow…sorry, memory is a pain."

"Understandable, but do not let your memory become something that bogs you down as a person, never let this weigh you down. I can tell that you know what I know what you are going to say to this." Amasa smiled widely at that, indeed he was interested to see where this would go as a feeling of something poking in the back of his head alerted him to turn around. He did so as his smile curved downwards at the sight of the house where he lived closing his eyes tightly as a torrent of memories flooded him before he opened them, and stared ahead again, straight into a picture of him as a young boy during his childhood with a dark-haired man with his face obscured and a short-haired woman with tired baggy eyes holding a thinly veiled smile, the teenager feeling a sense of sadness as he remembered his dear mother who looked upon him with shocked and tear-ridden eyes before he turned his back on the picture and looked ahead at a flash of white which overcame him, the teenager simply muttering out,

"From ashes, I am reborn again in the fire of life."

[Break]

Chapter 2

Darkness, bleak and suffocating darkness met his eyes when he awoke next to the new life he was given. Black, nothing but black inky darkness swallowing up all source of light in the world outside except only dimly lighting the roof of the large space below, the abyss was strong in this sanctuary of artificial night. Amasa groaned, his hands waving out and in front of his face by inches while his vision continued to swim groggily like a hangover with too much light…not that he managed to experience it due to other problems in his own house, the teen sighed as he felt cold concrete meet his back and head and his eyes though slightly blurry made its way up to see a sliver of light barely coating the room with color. Amasa didn't have to guess where he was, he was in a warehouse by the obvious structure pattern of a small stretch of boring rectangular windows from one end to another on either side of the building's stretch with the windows placed vertically, a horrible piece of warehouse architecture in Amasa's opinion and definitely the reason why warehouses are such good covers for shady activities. Amasa simply sighed as he flipped himself forwards on the balls of his feet, landing perfectly with his hands placed in front of his face as he stretched his back first the feeling of being on the floor for an extended period of time was straining for him, especially being the first day as…not Amasa.

"Huh, well that was quick. I expected something flashier or stranger, like being in front of people in the middle of a street butt-naked and next thing I know crying for pants with tears down my eyes."

"I heard something! Secure the building!" Amasa had to sigh deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose in silence as he looked to his left where he assumed the door to the large space was while he whined at the ceiling.

"Oh merciful God, what have I wished for?" He muttered as he moved towards the darker corners of the building, his hands feeling for an escape route or a door that he could open as he heard one set of clacking boots. Tracing his hand along the wall, he stopped short when he felt a cold sensation grace his fingertips sending small shivers in his nerves while he heard the distinct sound of metal moving before he grabbed it in his left hand, the darkness making it harder to identify the object but his hand smoothly running up the handle indicated it to be a metal lead pipe of some sorts. Hearing the faint footsteps growing louder to his left, the teenager knelt down in a half-kneel holding the pipe upwards by his side as he saddled himself up against the wall his breathing becoming shallow while he tried to keep the noise level to a white noise.

"It came from here, I'm sure of it." A female voice rang out from the darkness before the sound of a door being swung open echoed through the building as a bunch of footsteps echoed into the space, the clack of weapons made Amasa's spirits sink further as he rubbed the bridge of his nose again. Great, he was revived and now he was most likely going to be killed by Special Forces from an unknown organization he never heard of in a place he never thought he would see. Well, at least he had a coat to wear if he was found dead by the authorities-wait, he's wearing a coat?

"Search the area thoroughly and leave nothing uncovered, we need this place for the hostage when our men arrive to put the plan in place." At that Amasa felt intrigued, his curious mind now being piqued by what he just heard as he clutched the lead pipe tightly around his right palm. Hostage? What hostage are they planning to bring here and what is the significance of this pris-blackmail material going to affect? Whatever it was, his mission to help the siblings could wait until he found out what's going on and, if the circumstances call for it, help out the hostage or perhaps the hostage-takers. Thinking that, Amasa kept himself hidden from the sight of the mysterious armed strangers wandering the space for a round, the teen actually hearing steps approaching his position as he took up the lead pipe in his hands. Seeing a pair of black boots coming out of the corner of the wall, he immediately readied himself as he saw a silhouette appear out and out stepped a woman armed with a sub-machine gun dressed in the most revealing battlesuit he ever saw, the fabric was tight-fitting like a typical sports suit but without the pant leggings instead replaced by a one-piece shirt that barely stretched over the inner thigh leaving almost nothing to imagination. Strapped to her right thigh were two pockets which were bulky and significant as he saw the soldier trace a finger onto the thigh pockets, furthering his own suspicions that it was ammo from its bulky shape noting her strokes on the pockets with a shiver made Amasa nervous. The woman also appeared well-trained, her stance was not that of a local thug parading with a gun but a professional stance of legs slightly apart in front of the other, a typical lesson taught to soldiers that ensured perfect balance between aiming and moving as well as cutting down the time for both actions. Not noticing him yet, the black-haired woman glanced in his direction for a brief second before she turned away and carrying on her way, Amasa spinning the lead pipe in hand as he shot out from his corner and made his way behind the girl.

"Sorry for this." Muttering the words caught the girl off her guard, a hand covering her mouth as her assailant brought the lead pipe to her back jamming it into her suit to show he meant business before the girl became silent, Amasa using his armed hand to tap the girl's wrist watching the gun clatter softly to the floor as he heard the footsteps disappear in the short distance. Amasa waited patiently as the door slammed behind them leaving them alone, a perfect opportunity presenting itself for him to get some answers as he tightened his grip and hissed at the trained soldier to keep silent. Now that the coast was clear did the young man make his move, taking the young woman to the same corner he was hiding in and putting her up against the wall twisting her head towards his face as he gave her a harsh 'shh' as a signal to be quiet. Satisfied when she did not resist, he nodded and removed his hand from her mouth letting her breathe before he gripped her throat and pushed her against the wall his pipe keeping distance between him and the soldier, her wide black eyes staring at him defiantly.

"You're a soldier, bad choice of uniform but a soldier. I want to ask you some questions and if I find them satisfactory, I will knock you out and leave you alive. Play the guessing game of who's the hostage with me and I will drive the sharp end of this pipe into your gut and call the police and ambulance to my vicinity. Do we understand one another?" Seeing the soldier nod slowly, coughing up air a bit as she shifted nervously against his grip on her windpipe while Amasa used the pipe to tap along her thigh, tapping the surface of a walkie-talkie strapped to her leg as static crackled to life.

"Bravo 4, this is Team Leader. Respond." The soldier simply glanced at the walkie-talkie with Amasa before she noticed the man press his face against hers, allowing her a glimpse of crimson red eyes glaring into her black ones as he uttered the words to her face without uncertainty and the faint indication of a threat.

"Call. Them. Off." He said as he released her throat, unhooking the walkie-talkie while jabbing the pipe into her abdomen slitting the fabric slightly but not seriously to cause injury as he fumbled with the strap, finally feeling it drop into his hand did he scoop it up and bring the device to her mouth jabbing the pipe once more with a glare as he clicked the on button.

"…Team Leader, this is Bravo 4."

"Where the hell are you? The prisoner is about to arrive anytime now, and we need to get into our IS suits for mobilization." The soldier looked again at Amasa who just gave an apologetic look in return and indicated his head to the device once more, the girl answering back crisply.

"I am at the bathroom."

"Again? This is the fourth time, May! Don't screw this up because of your bladder problems and get to your suit as soon as you can! Team Leader out." The woman sighed as the device dropped to the floor and Amasa decided to move on the offensive, beginning his interrogation for information.

"I haven't managed to begin introducing myself, my name is Anastasio Merle and I am an interested party called to investigate a small disturbance here. I snuck in here to check things out and as it turns out, you're in here armed to the teeth with weaponry which is already a capital offense now tell me: why are you here? Who is this hostage your captain is speaking of, and why now?" Amasa questioned tensely, his fingers wrapping around her throat again pinning her against the wall as the soldier coughed out air and spit before she found her voice.

"Our s-standin-g or-ders, *cough* *cough* are none o-of your business *hack*, stranger!"

"I see, you wish to play defiant with me I guess…anyways, I don't need you anymore. I have all the information I could ever need." Anastasio stated coldly as he released his grip on the girl and retracted the lead pipe, grabbing the radio as he did so and stared at the girl intently before he spun on his heel and walked towards the sub-machine gun and picked it up, sliding the sling onto his shoulder testing the weight.

"I didn't tell you anything." The soldier declared stubbornly, refusing to let this man get the best of her. First he manages to take her down and threaten her, next he's showing mercy to her after she tells him a sentence that gives away nothing? The soldier felt like she was being toyed with, the man simply turning his back to face her and walked away…big mistake.

"Don't you walk away from me!" She yelled as she sped towards the well-armed man, a combat knife sliding from her boot strap into her hand as she charged the mysterious stranger from behind. However, Anastasio surprised her by spinning to his right and in a quick motion brought the sub-machine gun to rest at his hip pointed directly at her, flicking the safety catch while he held his finger on the trigger with a look that dared her to try it, the woman suddenly froze on the spot like a deer in the headlights as her body began to stop responding at the barrel of the readied weapon pointing at her. Anastasio paused momentarily before he pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The girl flinched immediately and her eyes squeezed shut in fear hearing the bullets penetrate the concrete wall instead as the stranger aimed the gun off course at the last possible second, Anastasio taking the woman's fear to the advantage as he sprinted, dropping the gun to his hip and charging at the woman and with all the strength he could muster, slammed the metal pipe directly into the soldier's stomach causing her eyes to widen in pain before an elbow to the back of her neck sent her sprawling onto the floor unconscious as he glared at the fallen figure with a look of hatred.

"Don't you test me." He spat before he turned and carried on, dropping the lead pipe while he checked the magazine of the sub-machine gun and slotted it back in again. Moving towards the soldier, he gripped the underside of her arms and moved the woman to the corner which he hid in and laid her body securely on the floor making a mental note to take her with him later as he picked up the ammo strap from her thigh and attached it to his own, the young man now relaxing as he picked up the walkie-talkie and sat by the soldier setting the comm unit at his side while he began to sing.

Sticks and stones may build a home,

But a house it needs you inside.

So come on around and we'll stoke on the fire,

And we'll talk in its gold and black light.

"This is Bravo Team. We're in position for acquisition of the hostage."

When your work is over, head round to mine,

Or we could meet in a second hand shop

Where I saw your face for the first time

"We have the child, moving to the warehouse interior now."

Anastasio continued to sing as he tapped his feet in rhythm to the non-existent music ringing in his ears, his eyes falling to his new 'charge' as he took in her proper appearance in the darkness. She had raven black hair, stretching to her lower back while a small navy blue hairclip sat on the left of her hair donning a stereotypical Japanese cat face seen in cartoons smiling meekly to emphasize maximum cuteness. He noted the bleak eyes she held that broke its hold on her when he pulled the gun out and fired behind her, now closed and asleep like a baby angel…Anastasio kept his hands free off her he would not like to be caught caressing a grown woman.

"Bravo 4 has gone dark in the warehouse, I repeat Bravo 4 has gone dark! Someone's in the warehouse!" Anastasio jumped to his feet, his hand holding the comm unit to his ear as he felt panic rise in his throat.

"What? How, we were talking to her not too long ago!"

"Her vital signs just went into concussion, we can assume someone has infiltrated the building, the child is compromised! Abandon the warehouse, Bravo Team!" The voice commanded over the chatter, disrupting whatever silence that was left for the teen as he immediately stashed the walkie-talkie to his coat pocket and turning back to the unconscious body, scooped the soldier up in his arms as he made his way out hearing the chatter grow increasingly panicky as he took a right turn out of the main room and down the hallway hearing various orders being tossed around.

"The child has to come with us, we can't leave him!"

"Him?"

"No time, if this person is armed with an IS there is no telling the damage. And the fact that she's already searching…" The voice of the leader trailed off before the authoritative voice yelled back into the comm unit, dismissing all interruptions.

"Enough! We have to take the girl or Squall will not be pleased!"

"Squall, a name finally…so she's the one who authorized this kidnapping, but a child is the worst kind of blackmail anyone should ever have to experience." Anastasio thought to himself as he quickly paced through the hallway, a grim thought surfacing to his mind as he looked down at the girl in his arms. "I do not know anything similar of a sort to that kind of thing, I was after all…the victim of a murder by my own flesh and blood."

"Of course, Lady Autumn…girls we are extracting the prisoner to home base! I repeat, retreat to home base immediately! Blow up the warehouse and wipe out the third party!" Anastasio quickened into a run, his eye catching sight of a set of doors to his left as he ran towards a window overlooking the concrete space and fence that surrounded the building, Anastasio hastily kicked the doors open and made his way into what he assumed was the main hall judging by the abandoned wooden counter secured in a semi-circular cubicle with plastic and glass surrounding the entirety of it while a few rusted broken seats lying at the wall.

"What about May, sir? She could still be in there."

"We have no choice, burn her with the rest of the warehouse. She was weak and easily caught off guard by an elite, Phantom Task has no place for such individuals." The team leader's voice coldly cut the stale air as radio silence followed shortly, Anastasio simply shook his head in silent sympathy for the unconscious soldier before he rushed towards the door and using all his strength kicked open the door-

"Target is in position! Ready to fire!"

"This is Bravo Team Leader, fire!"

"Oh Shi-" Anastasio could only utter as an explosion threw him and the girl sailing through the air, the man losing his grip on May as he watched her tumble violently onto the floor a few feet away as he followed soon after using his hands in front of his face in a cross block, his body thumping and skidding onto the concrete floor Anastasio feeling the concrete debris fly into his hands, a few pieces embedding themselves into his exposed wrists as his block weakened and crumbled onto the floor for the rest of the fall, the sub-machine gun clattering away from him as he groggily staggered to his feet his vision blurry while he held an outstretched arm towards the bleeding soldier who took some internal damage from the fall, but once again life decided to play its hand.

Anastasio reached out to grip the girl…

4

A strange shadow appeared behind him causing him to turn around…

3

He didn't know what he saw, but it looked like a woman in control of some sort of mobile suit that seemed to cover everything but her chest making it a disadvantageous suit.

2

He saw the large gun aimed directly at him, before it moved up to May's body with cold precision. Anastasio suddenly widened his eyes as he tried to moved towards the body, a sudden spray of machine gun fire stopped him in his tracks as he fell over face first.

1

He tried one last time to reach for the girl before a large light blinded his vision, and suddenly an explosive shockwave knocked his body a few feet away from where May was hitting his head hard on the concrete tar road, blood pouring out from his face as his world went to black, the ringing sound of shellshock hit a wave of nausea in his throat before he passed out.

Hours later…

Anastasio felt the world stir, his mind was slow and groggy like a truck had hit him as he opened his eyes slowly adjusting to the glare of white light invading his vision, the glare hitting his eyes and getting a groan of irritation from the young man as he struggled to get up only to be held down by pairs of gloved white hands securing his limbs from moving, it's action instead had the opposite intent as Anastasio's instincts kicked in and he tried to free his hands.

"Hold him down, now! He's in a panic!"

"We need him alive, stat! Somebody get me-" The voice slowly trailed off as Anastasio felt his chest tighten considerably, strangling his efforts to remotely breathe before he felt a needle prick his skin the numbness of his body and ears made it difficult for him to know what was going on, but before he passed out he tilted his head back and saw a figure standing over him dressed in a battlesuit similar to that of the girl May but she had shoulder length slightly ruffled hair and brown eyes staring at him blankly. Anastasio knew that look well, it was one he wore a lot in his younger days towards his friends whenever he went to school…a mask of pretense that only saw the world as a black era in his life, but yet he could tell that the weathered look was falsified to look that way instead of genuine anger at the world. A look of strength, perhaps…one he had hoped to wear if he could in this life. But for now, he offered a look of sadness before he muttered a word in passing.

"Valkyrie…"

End

This is two chapters in one, one big package for you to enjoy. I am taking many tasks on because of my interest, but the fact of the matter is that my skill peaked with Anarchy and the Detective and honestly I hope to have a work that is close behind it in skill and perhaps writing. If possible I would appreciate you readers to give at least some feedback on how my works turned out so far, it is appreciated.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this double whopper story and make sure to let me know if I need any improvements.

Chiao and have a great January of the new year!