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Gunshots were heard in the distance.

A figure bolted from the confines of an alleyway and turned right, pressing themselves up against the building and holding their breath. Two more figures, each holding firearms, passed right by the first without notice and entered the alleyway across the street. The one that was hiding heaved a sigh of relief and left to start walking down the street. It was clear in their mind that the people that had been chasing them wouldn’t return for some time. They were in the clear for now.

As they stepped beneath a lamppost, their appearance was revealed.

Male. Short, blond hair flitted in the slight breeze as eyes the color of emeralds kept scanning the area for signs of movement. Lightly tanned complexion, a heavily amused smile playing on his lips. He was outfitted in a black, long-sleeved dress shirt, plain grey slacks, and matching dress shoes. On his waist, sat two identical daggers. “They’ll think they’re chasing me for hours. Plenty of time to get the hell out of dodge.”

This was Eric le Rou; the Eleventh Boss of the Eclissi Famiglia.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved the priceless ring that he’d stolen. The band was made of sterling silver and had sapphires lining the piece of jewelry. In his eyes, the product had been more than worth the half hour it’d taken him to evade the people pursuing him. Grinning, the Al Bhed slipped the ring onto his ring finger and inspected his hand for a scant few seconds.

“Perfect… and I got the right size, too. Am I lucky or what?” the Mafioso joked.

---

Music blasting in the background, a young blunette watched in pleased silence at the woman dancing on the stage. Her long tresses glimpsed the floor as she - … the man took this time to realize that he was getting far too descriptive in his own head. Instead of paying attention. This was unacceptable in his opinion. His mind was flushed of all thoughts as he continued watching his source of entertainment.

In the span of several minutes, the show finished and he was down two-thousand Gil. Not that he minded the noticeable lack of weight in his wallet. It was the perfect waste of money. He left through the front entrance of the building and kept walking. His appearance was shown in the sunlight. A few of the girls on the sidewalk sent him sidelong looks as they passed him by.

Male. Messy, light blue hair peaked out in every direction. Chocolate-colored eyes sparked with annoyance as he pushed aside the few strands that got into his field of vision. Pale complexion, a radiant smile on his lips. He was garbed in his usual navy tuxedo, a black tie and white dress shirt underneath. His dress shoes matched the color of his tie. At his waist, sat a nodachi.

This was Cianel Femond Vroli; the Lightning Guardian of the Eclissi Famiglia and right hand of Eric le Rou. Always the charmer, he winked back at the women looking at him. A few of them turned away with faint blushes. Yeah, he was the only person that could walk out of the establishment he was just in and make the opposite sex look at him in a positive light. He was just that talented.

He pulled out his cell phone and went through his list of contacts, stopping the small highlight over the name of his superior. Eric le Rou. A small press of the button later and he was calling his blond friend, phone pressed against his ear. “Hey, Eric. It’s me, Cian. I’m callin’ to see if your alright. You never told me where you were going last night and I was concerned.”

“Yeah, completely fine. I had some trouble but nothing I couldn’t handle.” the blond sounded really amused.

“Great. I’ll come by Headquarters ‘round two, give or take an hour.”

“Perfect. See you then,” the phone call was ended.

Cian pocketed his cell phone and turned the corner. His eyes fell upon the 1967 Chevrolet Impala parked in the back of the parking lot, his smile becoming almost excited. Not that anyone blamed him, that was the pet project he’d worked months on to accomplish. This was one of his crowning achievements. It was given the name “Triple Point”, paying homage to his estranged fathers plane when he was in the military.

And one thing was abundantly clear to even people outside of the Eclissi Famiglia; don’t ******** with his car… otherwise, one risked incurring his wrath.

---

In the peaceful morning atmosphere, deep in the Macalania woods, a pinkette sneezed. They kept their eyes on the man in front of them, a look of annoyance as clear as the sun in the sky. Their expression was that of someone being offended by the actions of another, as was the case at this point in time. The man in front of them was bloody with a broken nose, several missing teeth, and two black eyes. Humming, they chose their next words slowly.

“I really hope that you won’t try this,” the person paused and pointed toward the axe in the tree, “again. I might not be as nice the next time, understand that.”

The bloodied individual nodded, head moving side to side in their half conscious state of mind. Smiling, the pinkette grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and none too gently dragged him out of the forest. A few of the people that were passing by caught sight of the individual as they emerged from the dense foliage. Most of the travelers recognized the individual from the news, a native of the Macalania woods that punished the few interested cutting down the radiant trees.

Male. Short, pink hair that seemed to defy the law of gravity and equally as pink, narrow eyes. He had a pale complexion from living in the woods for so long, with a bothered frown playing on his features. He was garbed in a plain white dress shirt, a black blazer on top of it, and black slacks that matched with his dress shoes. On his back, strapped onto the blazer, was his weapon of choice. A staff almost seven foot tall, made of pure Macalanian wood.

This was Syvilt Ithe Rhez; the Sun Guardian and primary healing specialist of the Eclissi Famiglia.

He looked each of the people in the eyes, eyebrows pushed together to show his amounting frustration. “And what are you all looking at?”

None of them chose to answer his question, instead looking in the other direction. They didn’t want to risk placing their wrath upon them after seeing the condition his last victim was in. Seeing this, Syv snorted in disbelief and turned to reenter the woods that he was born in when his cell phone went off. Surprised, the pinkette took the phone out of his pocket, answering the call.

“This’ Syv, what can I do for you?”

“Head for Headquarters, Eric is already there and I’m driving there now. Alright?” it was Cian, judging by the sound of his voice.

“Alright. It’ll probably take me till tomorrow to get there. I’m at the Macalania woods.”

“See you then.”

The call ended with a click and the Mafioso tucked it back into his pocket. He looked back at his victim of the evening and hummed lightly in thought. Then he smiled for the first time in the last hour and kicked him in the face. The man fell back; unconscious. Satisfied, Syv looked toward the nearest settlement and started walking. Bevelle was at least an hour in walking distance from his current position.

---

Bikanel was… hot, and boring. Or at least he was pretty sure this place was boring. There wasn’t much to put his attention on, so he assumed this place was boring. He wasn’t exactly “in touch” with his emotions. So, he really didn’t know.

Male. Messy, chin-length red hair danced in the merciful desert breeze, dark and mysterious red eyes kept track of the sun on the horizon. His skin had a light tan complexion, born of his long hours in the sun for the last few days. He was outfitted in his usual black sleeveless, a pair of skinny’s, boots with points near the end, clawed gloves, and a small golden bell. It was quite the phenomenon why he wasn’t dying of dehydration.

This was Desta Garnet; Cloud Guardian of the Eclissi Famiglia.

The man paused in his walking as the sand rumbled beneath him. What in the Farplane was the source behind this? He wasn’t left in the dark for long as something burst through the sand off toward his left, revealing that it was one of the Sand Worm creatures that thrived in this place. His expression remained blank as ever as an oblique and unstable looking flame appeared in his eyes. The core was a clear purple and the rest a very pale purple.

“You are bothering me.”

It was faster than some people had the ability to comprehend. The Sand Worm screeched in pain as five, inhuman claw marks appeared on its underbelly. They continued ripping as the wails of terror grew stronger until the innards of the fiend fell through the opening. It was dead, vanishing into pyreflies before the corpse even hit the sand. Not one in this process had the man so much as blinked.

Desta found his attention pulled toward his pocket as his ringtone played, telling him of the incoming call from someone. Carefully, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and pushed the small button, pushing the cellular against his ear. “Desta speaking. My I ask the name of whoever is calling, please? I am currently in the middle of something.”

“Hey, this’ Cian! I’m callin’ the rest of the family to return to Headquarters. I’m on the way there, Eric is already there, and Syv is on his way, too.”

“Understood,” the redhead replied. He never gave his comrade the chance to reply as he clicked the end button. His phone was pocketed and he looked in the direction he was heading; toward Home. They had planes for him to use to get back to Headquarters. And if they didn’t, he was certain that he could possibly convince someone into helping.

---

In a bar in Kilika, a blue-haired individual quickly downed another shot. He looked at the man toward his right scribbling in his notebook. The man had long, black hair that stood out in contrast with his bright, yellow eyes. His skin was pale, as though he’d never seen the sun, and he was garbed in something that looked vaguely Victorian. On his shoulder sat his raven familiar. This was Peccatrice Corvo D’oro; the real Mist Guardian for the Eclissi Famiglia.

The man looking at him had short and shaggy, deep blue hair. His eyes were a bright yellow much like his companion. His pale complexion seemed worse than the Mist Guardian’s, seemingly chalk white by comparison. He kept himself clothed in a simple red t-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. On his back, however, a staff with a microphone at the end was strapped. This was Oskar Lerolai Yakovich; the Rain Guardian of the Eclissi Famiglia.

“What are you writing about, Corvo?” inquired the mix breed.

Corvo looked at him, eyes surrounded in the shadows caste by his hair. “Today.”

In response, Oskar wilted as he was rudely reminded of his companions memory problems. He was quite possibly the worst case of amnesia in the world. By the Fayth, that probably wasn’t even the right diagnosis! None of the Doctors that had seen him understood the reason behind this, passing it off as some kind of genetic defect. Most of their comrades felt pity for him and his problems.

That was the reason that they appointed two Mist Guardians. One to deal with the day-to-day duties that came with the position and the other for their pure, destructive power in the field. As things were, in spite of his memory issues, Corvo was one of the most powerful illusionists on the continent. Or at least most people assumed that was the case. They had seen him pick apart another illusionist and twist their own techniques upon them.

“Are we heading back to Headquarters after this? Eric is probably worried ‘bout us. We’ve been gone for almost two months,” the blunette replied.

Corvo flipped through his journal until he found “Eric le Rou” and read the summary he’d written for the man. He was the Boss of the Eclissi Famiglia, the same family that he was in. The raven looked at his companion and nodded lightly. Amnesiac or not, two months was still a long time. “Yes.”

Unfortunately, Cian wasted his time and money making the call to inform them about something that they were already planning. He was both thoroughly surprised and bothered by this revelation. Oskar ended the call to save him the embarrassment before returning to his alcohol, taking a shot or two every few minutes. Ronso had naturally powerful resistance to alcohol of any kind and he was aiming to drink himself sober by morning.

---

“Tysh ed, Anel! Kad uid uv dra vilgeh' gedlrah frema E's fungehk! Un tu oui fyhd sa du payd oui ujan dra rayt fedr drec tuikr numman?!” [ 1 ]

At Headquarters, Eric le Rou scurried out of the kitchen with his sandwich in hand. Behind him, an Al Bhed woman fumed as she watched him scurry out of her workplace. Frowning, she calmed herself and turned back toward the stove. A pot of soup sat on top of it, a ladle laying off at the side that she’d been using to stir the contents of the pot. Music played in the background to ease her nerves.

“Kut, hajan druikrd ra't mayja. E's zicd sygehk y cyhtfelr, ra cyoc. Ry! E ghuf ra fyc dnoehk du caa fryd E fyc sygehk vun mihlr.” [ 2 ]

Her blond hair was kept messily in a high ponytail, letting her beautiful green eyes out for all to see. Pale, milky skin was revealed in quite a few areas. She was dressed in a spaghetti-strap shirt that left her midriff visible, a pair of short shorts, and several little trinkets. A pair of dog chains on her left wrist, a rag tied on her right, and a beautiful little necklace. On her waist, a microphone and cord was wrapped in a similar manner to a whip.

This was Angerona Stroman; the Storm Guardian of the Eclissi Famiglia and professional chief.

“Knayd, cuibc ymsucd vehecrat. E lyh'd fyed du dno cusa,” [ 3 ] the woman let a happy smile twist her features. Cooking was her passion and she took deep pride in her work. Her hand snaked around the pot and turned the dial on low, leaving the heat the pot had collected to finish cooking the soup. Sighing, the blond turned to look back in the direction that Eric had escaped in.

Idly, she toyed with the idea of chasing him down but chose not to. Her soup was her main priority right now and she could always take her revenge later in the afternoon. Nobody stepped foot in her kitchen without her permission. None of her comrades must’ve gotten that memo, though. That or they were gluttons for punishment since they kept tempting fate by entering her place of sanctuary.

“Cdibet Anel.” [ 4 ]

---

In a small, quiet shop in the middle of Luca, a fifteen year old sighed in boredom. The place was practically dead without a customer in sight. That left her with nothing but time and she had almost nothing to put her attention into. But that was the price to pay for being a merchant. Silently, the young teenager prayed for something [ anything ] to happen in the next few minutes.

Almost as though the Fayth had answered her prayers, her ringtone started playing. Grinning, she grabbed the phone from her pocket and answered as quickly as possible. [color#8A2BE2]“Hey, this’ Naomi. Please tell me that you’ve got something for me, Cian? Pretty please?”

Female. Long, brunette hair that ended just below her shoulder blades and were kept in twin ponytails. Her chocolate brown eyes looked wide with hope at the prospect of something to do instead of her shift at the shop. Her skin was pale, much like the majority of her comrades, and she wore a spaghetti strap dress. Thigh-high socks, and plain old sneakers were hidden behind the checkout counter. Hanging from her left hand was some type of stuffed animal. Her magical mog, used for channeling her illusions.

This was Naomi Noelani; the stand-in Mist Guardian for the Eclissi Famiglia.

“Haha, alright. Head for Headquarters, the rest of us will meet you there,” the youth scowled when he chuckled at her expense.

In return, she hanged up the phone instead of dignifying him with a response.

---

It’d taken all of them at least four days to collaborate in their Headquarters, high on top of Mount Gagazet. The building was beautiful, the mansion of mansions. It was colored in the same black, white, and grey motif as the man that owned the place. Eric liked keeping the place as business looking and radiant as possible. A perfect mixture of the two.

In front of the mansion sat the runway kept for aerial transportation. As was the obvious, seeing as their was no reliable pathway leading all the way to the top of the mountain. A jet plane was kept at the start of the runway, near the edge but far enough to prevent it from falling. The Ronso would’ve been pissed if that happened. As few that’d probably survive the oncoming destruction.

All eight of them looked at each other, each of them seated in their own places around a table. At the head of the table was Eric le Rou, looking as happy as usual, and Cianel Femond Vroli at the other end. Three Guardians were kept on either side of them in their own chairs. Cian broke the silence.

“I’ve called you here for one, very important reason. There are disturbing rumors going ‘round the… establishments I frequent in my spare time. Talk of someone powerful enough to bring down entire Mafia crime families. [ 5 ]”

Everybody had their own reactions. Eric looked as concerned as Cian was, Syv looked like a deer caught in headlights, Desta was as blank as ever, Oskar was gaping, Corvo was quiet with one of his eyebrows arched in curiosity, Angerona was cursing in Al Bhed, and Naomi looked unsettled.

“This’ incredibly… troubling, Cian. Anything else that you can tell us?” inquired Eric.

“From what the employees are talking about when I was in their last, this mysterious threat has already taken out three Mafia crime families. As well as several known police officers in Bevelle. Even the Arcobaleno are looking into this matter.”

Eric leaned back into his chair and steepled his hands, hiding the frown that marred his face. It was clear to everybody in the room that he was deep in thought. Nobody dared to shatter the silence until their Boss spoke for the first time in four minutes. “… bring in the Sfera Famiglia. I’m getting the feeling that we’re going to need to collaborate with them if this new threat comes for us at some point in the near future.”

“Understood.”

---

[ 1 ] Damn it, Eric! Get out of the ********' kitchen while I'm working! Or do you want me to beat you over the head with this dough roller?!

[ 2 ] God, never thought he'd leave. I'm just making a sandwich, he says. Ha! I know he was trying to see what I was making for lunch.

[ 3 ] Great, soups almost finished. I can't wait to try some.

[ 4 ] Stupid Eric.

[ 5 ] Yes, this’ Synthesis that I’m talkin’ about.

---

Next Chapter; CH.2 - Enter, the Sfera Famiglia!