[centre][u]Final Fantasy VIII: Tempus Veneficarum[/u]

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[centre][b]'Thirty seconds!'[/b]

The call sounded up and down the row of soldiery, barely audible over the dull roar of the airship engine. After a labourious three hour flight, they were finally with reach of their target; the Dukedom of Dollet. The soldiers checked their equipment one last time and lining up at the drop points, ready for the order. The last few moments passed slowly, each second an eternity in their minds.

[b]'... Jump!'[/b]

They surged forward, one by one dropping down into the chutes below. Within seconds they were in freefall, a thousand metres from the ground and hurtling toward the city of Dollet at breakneck speed. All around them hundreds of their comrades dropped from other airships, a great rain of red, blue and grey steel. At the last moment, less than a hundred metres from the ground each man deployed his paramagic drive, floating down gracefully the last few feet.

The invasion of Dollet had begun.[/centre]

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[centre][u]Balamb Garden[/u][/centre]

A young man strode briskly through the Garden's great halls, treating the occasional instructor to a commiseratory grin. Of the four classes currently of age to face the SeeD field test, only students in his class had passed the written test... Which meant that he would have to accompany them for their first taste of real combat. Joy. Some of his fellow instructors were jealous, others keen to copy his successful teaching style; personally he would have preferred the little brats [i]not[/i] pass so soon... It meant a damn sight more paperwork for one. He zoned out for a minute, trying to sort out in his mind which students had passed or failed the preliminary test, more commonly knows as the Fire Cavern... The last thing he wanted to do was spend an hour traipsing around that hellhole again, especially right before heading into the field for real. From what he had heard of the field test so far, there wasn't much to worry about... but complacency is a dangerous thing.

A buzzing in one ear dragged him out of himself and the instructor waved one hand around irritably. The offending party voiced his objection with an indignant hiss before settling down on the man's shoulder, clacking its chitinous jaws together sulkily. The pair entered the central lift, which was unfortunately not empty... [b]'Lerwick. Your kids had better be ready.'[/b] Instructor Martine Dorn was, to use a polite term, a prick. His own class was full of trouble children, kids with no motivation or too much; his spartan style was supposed to instill discipline in them. Instead it had turned every student in the Garden against him... and Dorn knew it. None of his class had qualified for the SeeD field test, a point that Duncan Lerwick found rather amusing. [b]'Oh aye Martin, they'll be ready. They may be a tad... eccentric, but they've got potential.'[/b] The lift door slid open and Duncan took the chance to escape Dorn's overbearing presence. [b]'Fuck you Lerwick, it's Mar-tyne! And you still owe me that 50 gil!'[/b] The retreating Duncan gave a wave over one shoulder as he sped off toward his classroom, praying that he wouldn't have to deal with Dorn again today...

As per usual, he arrived at his lecture hall before most of his students. Duncan nodded approvingly to the few that had turned up and set about preparing what little paperwork he would need for today's homeroom. The chittering mass on his shoulder took off, alighting on a parrot perch off to one side, wherein it began trying to lick itself without success. There were five minutes left until the first bell rung... and an hour before the 23rd SeeD Candidate Field Test begun.