SHADOW OF OBLIVION

Notes: This story has been rolling around in my head for quite some time, and is slowly making its way into print. I've always wondered how the FFVII world ended up tangled with the Heartless, and what happened to their Planet.

Here's what I think…

I. Prelude to Twilight

For many days now, the stars have wavered in their paths. Once in a while, one would even fall silent, engulfed in blackness that hid it for the next night, and the next, and the next. Such things, to me, have over time been omens. It's strange to think so, due to my military training, but I suppose some habits will never die… though the man in me has long since passed on.

There's nothing left of my humanity to speak of… well, perhaps my sanity remains. It is what keeps me moving when I've no reason to go on; it is what allowed me to decide to follow that ragtag group of children to what seemed to be our deaths. Their deaths, really; as I mentioned, I am already dead, in a sense.

Oh, I'm still moving, still breathing, a perfect animation of what you would call life. Decades ago, a single bullet not only sent me to oblivion, but through so many hells one cannot begin to describe… I only remember my tormentors cool, collected voice as he took his notes, and caged me like some animal on the brink of consciousness… but despite those times, I still have some form of will, when it suits my well-closeted demons…

But the stars have been troubling. Within my heart the frown begins to grow, but I don't let it reach the exterior. Instead I walk, as I normally do, towards the source of this foul-smelling wind that has graced the air for some time. The ground, which was level last week, has given way to dusty hills and red cliffs – it seems I'm near to some possible aid, someone to soothe my thoughts.

Such a notion quickly shriveled as a dark figure leaped to the peak of a nearby mountain, raising a long muzzle to the moon and howling mournfully. I recognize it instantly, but I knew Red before the sound reached my ears. The wind caught my cloak, and with it my scent, turning his head towards me only a moment later. Keen yellow eyes affixed on mine, warning me to hold my ground as he approached.

"So. You've seen it too, then."

"I have."

"I don't like it."

"Neither do I." I studied the great cat carefully, narrowing my eyes at the nervousness in his posture; there's so much there that reminds one of a human child. Like me, Red is unique. There are none like him in this plane of existence, and we are alone in our wanderings, our thoughts, and our lives…

"But, this is something I've never seen before. The stars…"

"The Planet itself has been stirring," I interjected calmly, motioning towards the earth. "As if it were sympathetic."

Confusion fills his good eye. Ah, but I forget, he is not as close to the fate of this world as I am. The green beneath the surface many people call the great beyond, the next adventure after they cast off their physical shells… The green is my shackle and chain, and all at once I am barred from it forever: the Lifestream. Curse it…

Fortunately Red is no fool, and studies me with keen intelligence. "Has it? I thought perhaps the instruments had been malfunctioning…" But then he snorted, knowing that such could not be so. Cosmo Canyon, known for its accuracy and precision in the study of our world, incorrect in their measurements? It was absurd as trying to assert that Sephiroth never existed.

Sephiroth… by Phoenix, how his eyes had burned, so much like his mother's, accusing… his face so angled and chiseled… not at all like the one who claimed to be his sire…

"Vincent?"

It was his eyes that I remember the most… they reminded of another man I knew, one very like him in many ways, but perhaps a gentler beast, a 'what might have been', perhaps, had he been raised differently.

"Vincent?"

This time I heard him, blinking before murmuring a wordless acknowledgement. Seeing that I now paid attention, Red smiled, or as best he could with a feline muzzle. A curious sight, really.

"What do you think?"

I released a long breath, watching it frost in the cool desert air. I knew the answer as it lay on the tip of my tongue, rolling about as if insisting I give it voice. At last my sigh ended, and the silence grew even longer.

"I suppose we'll have to tell him," I answered at length, "but I suppose he's figured it out himself, already."

.o.o.o.

Damn. Have I not done enough?

The voices never left, you know. It still hurts to listen to that cacophony… but even more so when I try to block it all out. But that's my curse, isn't it? That's what was in store for me – my fate had been sold to Hell a long time ago. Funny thing, too, since I didn't believe in anything back then.

Okay, that's a bit of a lie.

At one time, I believed in someone I could never be, but tried to anyway. I never got very far, and what seemed to be my greatest stroke of luck sent me plunging into darkness. Everything changed that day, and all I remember are flames, and his eyes. Green, shimmering eyes of the same kind as the torched ruins behind him. Green framed in silver, and the flash of his sword as he ran me through.

Heh, look at that. My fingers are over where a scar should be, but there isn't one.

The voices had quieted two years ago, after I felled my once great hero, the idolized General whose name is yet whispered among those who remember. So many died then beneath Meteor's wrath, but humans have always managed to survive the worst.

Danger… Danger… That's all it was at first. I'd heard it before, but now, with Sephiroth dead and buried in his unmarked grave within the Lifestream? No one alive knows how to revive him again… we'd made sure of that in the aftermath. Midgar was destroyed, and no one had any further interest in mako or the old sciences.

Ugh. Thinking of mako makes my skin crawl, knowing its burning acids flow through me… I haven't aged a day in a good few years, and I'm in my twenties; they still ask for ID when I go out for a drink. I used to drink a bit, but I lost interest. What's the point, when one can't get drunk?

There's a sound down below, and I instinctively freeze in place, holding my breath. Soft steps, cushioned… and a gentle light flows over the porch, and the steps where I'm sprawled. A slender silhouette is framed in the aging wood – Tifa.

"A bit late for a stroll, isn't it?"

No answer at first, until she sits on the top step, her pink robe cinched tight around her waist. Brown eyes try to search my expression, but I don't have any to give – my attention is on the sky. It's a clear night, why not?

"It's late."

"Mm."

"Cloud, you haven't slept at all this week."

"It's not a big deal."

"You're not eating, either," she pointed out, her brow creasing. I hate when she does that, and I see it out the corner of my eye, drawing my gaze guiltily. It's not hard to know what's coming; she never was one to hide anything.

"What's the matter?"

"I don't know." It was an honest enough response, though not quite everything. I think she picked up on it, too, but surprisingly said nothing about it, choosing to stare at me in silence instead. I turned my eyes back to the stars, half-expecting something to happen.

"Cool air feels good," she commented quietly, shifting. "Hasn't been like this for a while."

"Mm." Still I watched, and I realized that I had focused on a single distant star, rapidly winking in and out as if seeking my attention.

And then, it vanished. The light was gone, leaving only a black space where light should have been. A chill ran through me, the air catching in my throat and choking me, forcing me to sit up as I coughed.

"…Cloud!" Tifa gasped in alarm, reaching for my shoulder. "Cloud, what's wrong?"

Can darkness have a shadow? Does it burn in a color deeper than night itself? Can it fall like a meteorite from the skies…?

The sudden tremors beneath my feet held the answer.

Phoenix, burn this chill within my heart…

.o.o.o.

Stay here. I'll handle it.

He expects me not to worry? How can he be so nonchalant, running off like that? The man truly has some nerve… Then again, who am I to be so bothered by it?

Stay calm, Tifa, he took his sword with him. Not that it makes things even better – it simply gives a sense of some odd security. At least he won't be defenseless against… whatever it was that fell from the sky. It seemed like a shooting star, but shouldn't those glow…?

It reminded me of those childhood jumping shadows that lingered in the windows on moonless nights; the kind that make you cry out for a parent's aid, you saw a monster! A faceless thing in your room! Seeing it gave me chills like I haven't known in years. Not even Sephiroth had affected me so… no, what shook me the most was Cloud's immediate reaction. I wonder if he realized just how pale he went in that moment? Worrisome, and heavy on my heart… I wanted to go with him… but he left the PHS, ordering me to call the others if he hadn't returned quickly.

But what does he hope to find, there?