Oktoberfest '08 Entry, The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men Oft Go Awry by Izanagi

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Title: The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men Oft Go Awry
Author: Izanagi
Beta (if applicable): Clover (but if it sucks it's all my fault)
Word Count: 4,279
Rating: PG-13
Character(s): Archer, Celes, Brook, Dante, Kratos, Sheena, Raine, Hokuto, Gilgamesh, Jill, Hitsugaya, Homura (very brief mention), Schuldig (implied)
Pairing(s) (if applicable): None
Summary: It's time for the great escape. Plans are made, alliances are forged, and some outside help is finally coming through. But let's not forget, they're up against Martin Landel. He's sure to have a trick or two up his sleeve.
Notes (if applicable): Nothing you need to worry about, besides the fact that this fic is fairly long. I hope I don't offend anyone with my portrayal of their characters.


It was a week since Archer’s group had followed one of Jill’s little riddles, thinking they’d find a nice juicy prize, but instead, they found the mastermind herself, sitting lazily behind a desk in the library.

Archer was dumbfounded at the time, wondering what the hell this woman wanted. The answer was a shocker. She was going to give them the chance to break out of Landel’s and stay out, under the radar. This was obviously one of their goals, but to have it handed to them on a silver platter seemed too good to be true, so he took this news with a grain of salt.

“Now? Are you serious?” was his initial response.

As a token of good faith and a reward for getting there first, Jill gave Archer a jewel, which he recognized as his former Master’s pendant. The one she used to save his life. When his fingers came into contact with the ruby-red gemstone, he felt a surge of mana course through his body. Jill explained that he would get some of his energy back as long as he had the jewel. Searching his magic circuits, he confirmed what she said. It was only a fraction of his true power, as a heroic spirit, but it was more than enough for now. He finally felt like he was in his old body again, but he still had his doubts about this plan.

“Don’t worry,” she gently chided, as if she were talking down to a child. “I’ll lower the limit placed on the patients. I can’t bring the whole thing down, so you’ll all have to settle for a fraction of your powers. Oh, I almost forgot. The escape window will only be open for a short time.”

“How short?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“Half an hour,” she nonchalantly replied.

“Half an hour…” he echoed in disbelief.

“Yep! Oh and you’ll have to make it to town too.”

They were so screwed. Half an hour wasn’t nearly enough time to evacuate everyone, but it would have to do.





Archer took this info straight to Hitsugaya, the leader of Arts and Crafts, who felt the same trepidation as him.

“Is this information trustworthy?” asked Hitsugaya, looking rather haggard like a general who had seen far too much action. Archer knew the last few days had been hard on the shinigami, but it seemed like it was worse than he previously assumed.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think we can afford to pass up the chance,” he honestly replied. Looking at Hitsugaya, he realized how desperate the situation really was. Escape would be a small victory, but the patients needed one desperately.

“Very well,” the shinigami stoically replied.

The rumors seemed to be true; the Arts and Crafts club was falling apart; they’d lost a good number of their members.

The Cooking club wasn’t faring much better. Without Colonel Mustang and Hughes, they’d lost any cohesion or organization they previously had. No one had the skills or desire to fill the leader’s position, which only served to hasten their dissolution. According to a certain telepath, they were on the verge of completely disbanding.

The only group that seemed to be holding things together was the History club. Archer didn’t know much about them, except that their leader was called Homura. They seemed to be doing the same things as Arts and Crafts, and he didn’t think they’d pass up this chance.

It was clear to Archer that if anyone wanted to escape that all three groups would need to work together. Four days ago, Hitsugaya had setup a meeting, and Archer repeated to them what he revealed to his leader. Needless to say, there were some mixed reactions, but the majority ultimately agreed to pool their resources for the escape plan. He saw the eager looks on people’s faces and couldn’t help but worry.





“Let’s go,” Archer said, turning back to look at his team, composed of Celes and Brook.
They were all dressed in their old clothes. Archer was decked in his old, onyx armor and holy, crimson cloth. Celes was wearing a flattering uniform that was fitting for the female general, and Brook was wearing a black suit and top hat. No one knew why the Institute had chosen to taunt them with their old clothes, but they all agreed it felt good to have them back.

“Are you really sure this is a good idea, Archer-san?” Brook nervously asked, his teeth chattering.

“Well, if you want to stay behind…”

“No no no!” the pirate hastily replied, clutching his Shikomizue, crafted by Archer; thanks to Jill’s gift, his magecraft now lasted longer than a day. “Lead the way.”

He shared a strained look with Celes before proceeding. They stealthily moved towards the Clinic, since Hitsugaya had assigned his group to escort the healers and their patients outside. From there, they’d head over to the bus loading area. The Cooking club had found someone to hot wire the busses. It didn’t look like anyone would be getting in their way. It was too easy

BOOM!

A sudden explosion rocked the Institute, catching his team off guard, as they stood in the Main Hallway of the Western Wing on the First Floor.

“What was that?” screeched Brook.

“I’d say some fool learned that our powers have been returned to us,” Celes said, accurately assessing the situation. Her magic had begun returning to her earlier. “What kind of idiot would be so callous? I thought everyone received the order to limit their powers until the appointed time.”

“Well, it was the plan to wait until our friend Jill created our window of escape, but clearly, someone didn’t get the memo,” Archer answered, scanning the area for the source.

“And we could have just lost one of our few, real weapons against the Institute, the element of surprise.” Celes irritably pointed out.

“Do you think they know?” asked the frightened ex-skeleton.
Archer didn’t need to ask who “they” were.

“Hopefully not,” Archer said. “But if they know we’re probably screwed either way. Now, isn’t that a comforting thought?”

Glancing down the hallway, the million dollar question was answered.

“Dante…” Archer tiredly sighed, looking around the corner. In front of the Sun Room, the demon hunter laid the smack down on some poor, unsuspecting monster, who apparently had friends, lots of them. They looked like little, demonic hounds, salivating and hungry for human flesh. But they might as well have been insects before Dante’s overwhelming demonic power. He crushed, smashed, and tore apart the little beasts with his bare hands.

“Oh, it’s your friend from the other night. Aren’t you glad? He seems to be okay,” Brook piped up, joining Archer in watching the spectacle.

“I’m thrilled,” he sarcastically replied. “I’d be happier if he wasn’t announcing to the world that we have our powers back.”

“What is that buffoon doing?” Celes disdainfully asked.

“It looks like he’s having fun. We should probably leave him alone.”

Archer and Celes were fully content to leave Dante behind, but Brook, probably the only person who cared (unlike his heartless teammates) asked “Aren’t we going to help him?”

“Somehow I don’t think Dante would appreciate us stealing his prey,” Archer replied over his shoulder.

The duo turned a corner and never looked back.

“Wait for me!” Brook yelped.





Walking down the South Hall 1-A, Archer’s sense of unease grew. It was quiet, eerily so. Almost as if something were lying in wait for them, and if there was one thing he should have known by now it was that Landel’s didn’t disappoint.

Slish slosh…

A strange shuffling sound, almost too faint to hear, barely reached Archer’s ears. He couldn’t see anything, but he was certain someone or something was down there. Turning to his team, he saw a tense look pass over Celes’ face. She must have picked up the sound too, but Brook was a bundle of nerves, too wrapped up in his fears to sense what was actually there.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a flashlight to illuminate the area, revealing an ugly spectacle. Three monsters squatted about ten meters away, feasting on some poor bastard’s corpse. From what remained of his face, the patient hadn’t gone quietly or quickly, unfortunately. These creatures were a patchwork of multiple monsters, straight out of a Frankenstein film. A hind leg from a dog, the arm of a gorilla, a serpentine tail, and multiple heads, each from different animals. They lacked any skin, so every twitch of their nerves and muscles were on full display. Their movements were slow, almost lumbering. Yesterday, Archer might’ve been concerned, but today was a whole different game.

His teammates had varying responses. Brook appeared to be trying to keep his wits together and clutched his sword a little closer as if it were some protective talisman. Celes merely drew her sword with a slightly eager look on her face.

Archer would have been content to try another path, but unfortunately, they were in the way. There was no other path to the clinic, and the creatures turned their rotting bodies towards them, having lost interest in their lukewarm meal. Archer didn’t know if it was the flashlight or not, but something attracted those creatures to his group. Perhaps it was the enticing aroma of fresh, human meat. Monsters really seemed to go for that kind of stuff.

“WHAT IS THAT?” shouted Brook, the former skeleton barely keeping his wits together.

“The enemy,” Archer simply answered. Drawing his bow and arrow, Archer addressed his roommate. “If you don’t want to die again Brook then you should probably show them why you were called the Humming Swordsman.”

“R-right…” the pirate unsteadily replied as he shakily unsheathed his Shikomizue. As a cane sword it had a slim looking blade, and despite his apparent fear, he took a stance, preparing himself for the enemy.

“Get ready.” The general’s voice was stern, even as she raised her majestic sword, Save the Queen, a peerless blade that looked a little too big in her small hands, but she easily wielded it like a master swordswoman. Like Brook’s Shikomizue, Archer had forged it with his magecraft.

A strangled moan punctured Archer’s line of thinking, alerting him to the advancing monsters. Their blood soaked feet left a trail of crimson in their wake. They started out slow, taking a few cautious steps forward, which turned into a fast walk. Finally, it evolved into a full out run.

An arrow flashed through the air, embedding itself in the first creature’s head, sinking into the soft tissue right above the left eye, where the brain should have been; it stumbled but got back up, so Archer gave the creature another one. This one penetrated it through the eye and out the other side of the skull. That was fine; he had plenty more arrows where they came from.

Celes and Brook flanked the remaining two, making short work of them. There was a certain confidence in the general’s movements as she bravely strode forward, slicing into the creature, but her blade became stuck in its fatty mass. The ghastly stench threatened to overpower her, but she persevered. As the lumbering arms stretched out towards Celes, she tried to create some distance but not without her sword.

“Don’t…” She lashed out with a kick, pulling her sword free. Her blade’s retrieval tore open the creature’s torso, sending blood and guts all over the place. “…touch me!”

Still, the creature was only half dead. In a last ditch effort, it grabbed her left hand and opened its jaws, to sink its teeth into her creamy flesh, but that was its mistake. If it wanted a meal, it should’ve made certain Celes was dead first. That moment gave her enough time to bring her sword back and swing with all her strength, cleaving through the greasy flesh and sending the creature’s head sailing through the air, straight into the back of Brook’s skull. After bouncing off the poor man’s head, he turned to look at what had hit him. In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have.

“EEHHHHHH! It’s blood! Blood!” the former skeleton cried as he flapped his arms, distracting him from his own dance partner.

“Brook, behind you!” Archer shouted.

His words caused something to click in Brook, changing his demeanor. One moment, the pirate was staring wide-eyed at the decapitated head by his feat, his opponent closing in behind him, and the next moment, he was standing a few feet behind his opponent, sheathing his sword. The creature slowly fell to the ground, in several pieces. To someone inexperienced, it almost seemed like a miracle, but to Archer’s trained eyes it was beautiful. If Celes’ swordsmanship could be compared to hurricane demolishing everything through force, then Brook’s form was graceful like a clear, flowing river. Now, Brook’s tall tales of his exploits seemed a little less embellished. Another confirmation that their powers had somewhat returned to them.

“Is that all of them?” inquired the blonde.

“Looks like it,” the heroic spirit replied.

“EEH!” the pirate squirmed as his fallen foe squirted some blood at him during its death throes.

Unfortunately, it looked like they spoke too soon.

Slip slop…

Archer whipped his light towards the source, revealing a nurse, transformed by the night, kneeling on the floor and licking the blood off of it.

“Good heavens…” the pirate stood transfixed, scared out of his mind.

Celes tightened her grip on her sword, and Archer raised his bow.

One enemy? No problem.

Well, that’s what they thought until a few more squishing sounds arose in the background.

“Shit,” Archer muttered under his breath.

Their enemy had friends. Glancing over his shoulder, Archer saw more creatures stumbling into view, filling the hallway they had just come from. Brook could barely make out their new acquaintances, but at this short range Archer and Celes’ magically enhanced senses could easily pick out their enemies.

“What should we do?” Celes asked while Brook screamed in the background.

“Let’s get to the Clinic. We’re supposed to meet up with reinforcements there,” Archer hastily replied, sensing Celes’ drawing upon her magic reserves for a spell.

In the next moment, Celes brandished her magic at the nurse, freezing the monster’s legs to the floor. The nurse growled and whipped out her bladed fingers towards her prey, but she overextended and fell forward, ripping her legs off at the kneecaps, leaving the rest of her legs behind. She floundered around on the ground for a few seconds before Celes stabbed her through the head, putting the creature out of its misery. The nurse’s movements slowed and eventually ceased. For a moment, Celes’ sword stood out of the ground like a tombstone. Then she wrenched it out, splitting the nurse’s head open.

“Let’s go, Brook!” Archer called out, but he had spoken too soon.

Behind the nurse, their path was barred by more grotesque monsters. Each one was more hideous than the last.

I guess this is what they call being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“We’re surrounded,” Celes stated, standing back to back with Archer.

“Dammit…”

Their only option was to reach the Clinic and meet up with the reinforcements. The creatures in front of them were only a few meters away. Too close for Archer’s bow, so he holstered it, and in the meantime, Brook and Celes quickly entered the fray with their swords. Celes’ threw a wave of ice over the enemy, making them easy targets for the two of them.

From the rear, Archer prepared himself. Raising his arms and crossing them over his chest, he reached into the depths of his soul for his weapons. With the magical energy he received from the jewel, it was a simple task, and the confirmation sent a wave of reassurance through his body.

I am the bone of my sword.

Within a fraction of a second after his chant, Kanshou and Bakuya, twin Chinese falchions, formed in his hand. His Noble Phantasms, the famed weapons of heroes, felt good in his hands, even if they were fakes. They were mirror images of each other. Kanshou was as black as night, and Bakuya was as white as day. He followed his comrades into the fierce melee.

The sounds of steel, flesh ripping, and death cries mingled together to form a symphony of carnage as the trio dispatched the monsters with relative ease, but there were just so many of them. For each one they destroyed two would take its place, and the ones behind were closing in.

“There’s no helping it then,” Archer muttered. They were almost at the Clinic, and only a few remained in their path, but the ones behind were almost at their backs. He wanted to save the bulk of his magic for later, but at this rate there wouldn’t be a later to worry about.

“Pyre Seal!” the words cut through Archer’s thoughts, followed by a sizeable explosion that devastated the enemy. It burned more than half the remaining foes in front of them, and left the remaining enemies sprawled on the floor, scorched but “alive.” Any closer and Archer’s group would’ve been caught in the blast. The ones behind Archer’s group were unhurt but stunned for a few moments by the magical burst. Looking past the thin veil of dust, Archer saw that the cavalry had arrived just in the nick of time.

“This way!” shouted Kratos, finishing off a survivor.

“Great,” Sheena readied her spell cards. “The monsters are out in full force before we can make a move? Typical.”

“And it all goes to hell right from the start.” Hokuto bashed in a creature’s head with her shovel. A bloody bandage, wrapped around her forehead, singled her out as one of the wounded. “I called it.”

“If anyone’s too wounded to fight, get behind me!” called Raine.

The trio wasted no time taking advantage of the route opened by their allies. They rushed past the creatures crawling on the floor even as the monsters’ hands and jaws nipped at their heels. The quartet covered their retreat. Their skills were barely enough to keep the leftovers at bay in order for everyone to get to safety.





Standing in the M-A Block Hallway, both groups took a moment to catch their breath. They barricaded the door with what little they could find, and the monsters were pounding away at it from the outside. Raine was hurriedly shuffling from one patient to another, checking their wounds. Luckily most of them only had minor flesh wounds at worst, but unfortunately, dealing with the mob had left them a little tuckered.

“So you’re the additional escort?” Kratos asked, coming up to Archer, who was resting with his back against the wall.

“That’s right,” Archer replied.

“Hmph.”

What was that? Archer couldn’t tell if Kratos was satisfied or disappointed with their display.

“Archer-san?” asked Hokuto as she came up to him with some medical supplies in his hands. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, just a little out of breath,” he replied, trying to wave off her concern.

“Don’t be shy,” she teased, reaching out towards him. “Just let me…”

Suddenly, at the edge of his senses he felt something. Unfortunately, he realized too late what the familiar presence was—not that he would’ve have been able to react in time with his current reflexes. Anything Hokuto might have said was drowned out by the wall being blown completely away.

BOOM!

At first, Archer’s vision was obscured by a flash of white. When he could see again, Hokuto was sprawled on the ground, eyes closed and blood matting her black hair to her head. His arm reached out shakily towards her, but he found himself in no better condition.

“Celes! Brook!” Archer’s call to his team was followed by some moving in the rubble but no vocal responses. “Raine! Sheena!”

“Here…” coughed out Raine as she kneeled behind her flickering barrier, looking like a light bulb on the verge of burning out. She’d barely had enough time to cast it, and it was a miracle she’d been able to shield Sheena too. The Mizuho ninja was lying on her side, unconscious.

“What was that?” Kratos asked from behind Archer. He managed to remain conscious through the explosion but had a few scrapes here and there. A piece of rubble had pierced his side like an arrow, making his shallow breathing, but since he was Kratos, he just pulled out the jagged stone and casted First Aid.

Damn, I’ve got to learn how to do that.

“It’s him,” Archer said as he slowly propped himself up. Every movement sent a surge of pain throughout his body, but if his suspicions were correct then they needed to get out of here ASAP. From his hunched over position he could see Celes sitting against the wall nearby. She was also struggling to get up.

“So you’re still alive?” asked a haughty voice, confirming Archer’s worst fears.

“Gilgamesh,” he mumbled, looking towards the King of Heroes.

The blonde had donned his immaculate, golden armor and trademark sneer in the middle of the courtyard, with the full moon bearing down upon his back like a lunar mantle.
The others might not have understood what just happened, but Archer did. Gilgamesh had just used his Gate of Babylon to blast through the outer walls of the Institute. In other words, Gilgamesh had completely demolished two layers of walls to get to them. What a ridiculously, over excessive assault. The monsters out in the hallway had been completely annihilated at the golden king’s whims.

“What’s with that look?” Gilgamesh said with a slight snarl. “Insects aren’t fit to gaze upon my majesty.”

Archer had a bad premonition, which was proven true an instant later. With a snap of Gilgamesh’s fingers the night sky warped into a crimson veil and from that blazing curtain appeared numerous Noble Phantasms, weapons of all shapes and sizes, spears, swords, daggers, arrows, sickles, etc. Every weapon in existence belonged to the golden king, and he fully intended to use them to wipe away the trash in front of him.

“Be gone, mongrels.” The words were spoken with such vehement disdain that Gilgamesh might as well have been talking to the scum on his boots. It signaled the start of his barrage.

Archer dashed in front of Hokuto, ignoring the searing pain in his limbs, and scrounged up his magic in order to muster a defense.

Steel is my body and fire is my blood.

“Rho Aias.” Only four red petals of magical energy, instead of the usual seven, blazed out from in front of Archer’s hand, forming a shield. It was the fabled shield of the Greek hero, Telamonian Ajax, and the strongest spiritual defense in Archer’s whole arsenal. While it was only at roughly half-strength, the shield still served its purpose. For a few seconds it absorbed the awesome onslaught of Gilgamesh’s mystical salvo, but one of the petals broke, shattering in a haze of spiritual shrapnel. Little by little, the shield was slowly being chipped away.

This is not good…

At his full power he might’ve stood a chance against Gilgamesh. After all, he’d defeated the smug bastard before, but right now, he wasn’t even close to his top condition.

“Raine, get the others out of here,” Archer called over the sound of steel clashing against his magic shield. It was an unreasonable request, but it had to be done. He couldn’t keep this up forever.

“We’ll buy you some time,” Kratos said, stepping forward on Archer’s left.

The two battle-hardened warriors, with experience far beyond mortal men, shared a brief glance. No words needed to be spoken. They knew what had to be done. As one, they turned towards their foe.

“So what’s the plan?” asked Celes, coming to stand on Archer’s right.

“General?” Archer asked, somewhat confused, even as the shield buckled. “What are you…”

“I already helped Ms. Sage escort the others out,” she continued.

“Then you should probably…” Kratos started.

“I have a debt to pay this man,” Celes cut in with a cold, steel gaze that left no room for argument. If the boys thought they could sideline her then they had another thing coming.

Naturally, Archer and Kratos would have graciously accepted her assistance, but their hand was forced when Rho Aias shattered into sparkling mist, along with any hope of escape.

“Are you finished praying for your pathetic soul, Faker?” taunted the arrogant king.
God, this night couldn’t get any worse. Earlier, the melee with the mob of monsters was a snag in the grand scheme of things, but now, their plans were completely shot to hell with this bastard in their way. Taking one last glance at the moon, he peacefully admired its beauty.

Well, I guess today’s as good as any day to die.

His gaze met the king’s, and his hand reached out to his side, summoning a blade.

I have created over a thousand blades.

Instantly, Caliburn, the lost sword of King Arthur, materialized in his hand. It was a beautifully crafted blade, composed of an azure handle, golden guard, and a sterling blade. The lost language of the fairies was etched along the edge of the blade, enchanting it with holy power. It was a fitting weapon for the king of heroes.

Wordlessly, the trio walked over the rubble, remains of the hallway, heading towards the courtyard. Now, the only question was whether they were racing towards their deaths or victory. Perhaps, there was room for both.