This is my first fic ever published. Enjoy.
A pandemic of sorbeted perplexity coaxed the emerald waves of the life stream to sparkle beneath the Earth's surface. A sombre morrow promised to reveal itself after the depths of insanity reigned over the planet for so long. After the events of Sephiroth's return and Jenova's wake all that remained of the city of Midgar were bitter ruins and forthright peril. A fate long foretold and yet nothing had been set upon to reverse this grim fate. Now this vast city was a terrifying reminder of what some in the world were capable of. The scrolls of history had now folded upon cataclysmic events that once lay bare in this blood stained abyss. Yet despite the threats of fear and sorrow, a shining beacon stood fast against the evil entities that came to threaten the population once more. Though nothing more now than a fallen memory. Cloud, The False Hero. Though he had beaten even the Great Sephiroth, twice. What he had become scared him. For he did not to know what extent his power could forgo. Therefore he reserved the use of it unless it was in dire need.
The ebony dark of night dominated the clear empyrean faintly streaked with flits of celestial blue highlighted gently by the sterling sparkle of several stars hanging majestically within the sky's embrace. A crescent moon irradiated its sparkling rays of sterling resplendent upon the lost regions of the Forgotten city. The bleached bark of the dense forest glowed dimly within the moon's influence offering a small pulse of light to shine dully throughout the woodland. A few small puddles of clear water rippled elegantly against the gentle breeze caressing the hallowed arena glittering peacefully against the night's influence.
Cloud's tired chassis came to rest upon the chalky shell structure of the Forgotten capital staring toward the night sky in all its glory. Clad in his ebony SOLDIER attire he boasted so well. His faithful blade rested soundly next to him, glistening silver flickers in the pale moonlight. Only the main body of the blade rested next to him. The remaining pieces of the sword's puzzle lay within his ebon motorcycle known affectionately as Fenrir. All pieces of which had seen many battles. Some bloodier than others. Battles of emotion, fear, love, all had come to pass by these blades and indeed of the false hero himself. Yet despite his heroic efforts in relinquishing the planet from the clutches of Sephiroth, he still considered himself to be nothing but an unfortunate void cluttering the universe and all its splendour. A shame he should think such nonsense, however, it was the way this shining vessel was manufactured to think. His gloved hands rested beneath his golden cranium as his sapphire engraved hues stared upon the astral sky. His mako infused eyes glittered royally, dancing frivolously with the silver sparkle of the night atmosphere. A vagrant sigh fell from his lips, shattering the silent fabric for only a few seconds as a small smile tugged at his delta at the sense that all was well in the world. Even if it only lasted for a short period, he took heed in the recuperation and bathed in the glory of peace.
Present day:
The life stream, a pearlescent cordial coursing through the planet's core. Governing all life upon this sweet young heavenly body via its judgement. The very essence of its being shedding plumes of mystery unto the watchful gazes of the people inhabiting this celestial planet. Only it is the prime controller of all vitality within its territory. Selecting who will linger and who will walk the path of enlightenment. Though kind and gentle in appearance, it also harboured rancid cruelty against those who would seek to test her. A cruel mistress she could be, dealing the hands of fate as easily as a hot knife slices through butter. A frightening concept though a healthy balance of harmony and malice intertwined within this cosmetic phenomenon. The departed would be blessed the opportunity to return their spirits temporarily to the world of the living though it was forbidden for them to interfere with the marvels of the present. Only a message could be sent upon the wings of transcendental ecstasy unto those among the misguided failures of the living. Life is but a passing dream but the death that follows is eternal. A roaring figure of continuity, unforgiving purgatory was all that vexed the damned until eternity came to an end.
A burning cyanide of baron fortitude spanned the stripped wasteland a licker with flames. An intense putrid smell of distinct burning flesh hung pungently within the atmosphere. Deep within the nine circles of hell walked heaven's dark harbinger himself. His sleek silver strands glinting fluorescently among the crusading embers taking flight toward their final resting place. His black trench coat falling to his knees, rippling elegantly within the firm breeze choking the remains of withered life. The intense heat from the blaze clashing tyrantly with his versatile, chilled exterior. His ashen face highlighted beautifully by the red fury of fiery strength. Sephiroth...the calamity. Free to walk among the dunes of sovereignty, insanity his best defence against these dark arts. A mourning cry upon the deep set wrinkles of the darkened sky echoed clearly amidst the blackened territory of neglected faith. A tragic heroine bound for death and torment wandered the tortured souls of this nightmare, never ending. The dusted sand kicking into the atmosphere was enough to choke the lungs of a mere man. Though this being was no mere mortal. He once lived beyond that veil unto the very heavens of the gods themselves though now no more than a broken heirloom, a forgotten memory. Though he once strived to never be a memory, there was little he could do to aid the situation at present. An indignant smirk pursed his anaemic lips as he reconciled in memories of old. He wandered this morbid oasis of fire and hallowed destruction though not with despair, but with hope and praise. The hope that one day he would defile this wayward hell hole and rise forth once again to take flight upon the world of the living to steal his wrath upon the frivolous people and finally claim what was rightfully his.
A white tree set about his sights dead ahead. Burning flippantly. Its life seeping away, stolen for a gasp of fresh breath among this resentful orifice. Though his spirits did not dampen, his resolve unwearied. For a cunning event was about to unfold within the scrolls of history spanning this land. The life stream was attempting to beat his soul into submission, but his ideals would never die, nor would his courage or determination. His thoughts concentrated within the fortress of his mind. The wells of his heart closed off to the outside interference. His manipulation of this star crossed existence would be his doing of success. Emerald slits of devastating cruelty stared duly towards the bleached cortex of the ardent tree slowly falling victim to rot and decay as the swell of blazing indulgence sought to reap its wrath upon the pure visage. A single rose shaded apple hung limply by its delicate twig attached lightly to a thick branch protruding proudly from the tree's trunk. The natural varnish coating its influence glimmered dully in the darkened quarry of inferno. The very essence of its life strangled impertinently in a slow and tragic manner. The dark presence of the Silver Knight only seeking to watch on as the purest of nature's creations suffered tragically through its final dregs of life. Flickers of deep rose flames sought to singe the pure innocence of the fruit's exterior revealing the inside of this once delectable apple to be nothing but ash. Such a cruel fate to be endured, yet in the dark harbinger's mind, somehow fitting.
Nothing within this hell nor the world itself was worthy of his notice. Yet the intriguing depths of this staged reality seemed to hypnotise his mind if only for a passing moment. Nothing would forestall his rise to power once again. Only one being sought to barricade his path to true enlightenment. Only one possessed the necessary skills to prove even a slight challenge despite the fact he had been defeated twice by this wandering soul, Sephiroth held no respect for this pathetic being. Cloud Strife. An empty puppet ruled by his own thoughts of misdemeanours and tragic solace. Though his resolve flickered with a hint of self loathing, the Silver Knight could not deny that Cloud possessed a certain power beyond the mere mako limits. Almost a demonic presence had made itself known during the finality of their last battle. Yet he cared not. Sephiroth had not regained his entire strength during his last battle as only one of his remnants had merged with Jenova's cells hence why he had been beaten a second time. At least that is what he told himself in order to spare himself the agony of a humiliating defeat by the same pathetic life form once again. A burning hate swelled within the dark male's black heart seeking only to see the fake SOLDIER suffer terribly by his own hand. How delicious it would be to rob him of that which the False Hero cherished most and in fact, all he cherished. The despicable thought forced a gleaned smirk to tug upon his cadaverous lips as he witnessed the withered core of the once gloriously red apple fall heavily from the mutated branch to cast its fragmented body to the charcoal ground as nothing but a crisp shadow of its former self. A harsh gust of warm breeze rippled through the silver strands of the elite SOLDIER, clearing his pale frontage of his stray strands. His soft eyelids rested for a few shorts seconds savouring the feel of the gentle breeze against his moulded skin. A deep inhalation was stolen from the tense atmosphere as his cat like eyes reopened to reiterate his sights with the emblazed inferno he now resided within. His soul content for now with the utterance of merely a few simple words. 'Cloud. Your time will come…soon.'
