Shadow Fall
Bahamut, the Lord of dragons, sat at the end of a long table, fitted the chairs of many sizes and shapes for the various Guardians of the many worlds. The mighty whale Bismark sat by himself, watching the table at the meeting of the High Aeons, for his lord Leviathon was sitting at the table, near Bahamut. The mistress of ice and the master of flames, Shiva and Ifrit, sat side by side, listening to the appeals of another of the Guardians. The mighty lord Gilgamesh and his teacher Odin stood off by themselves, listening. The spirit Pheonix just nodded softly as she listened to the voice of the unfortunate beast who had come before them, seeking their aid.
The small red furred mammal tried to impress upon the masters of multiple realms that, even now, without the threat of Ultimecia, the world of Balam needed help, the hands of justice seeking aid to cause the downfall of all things. The dark Aeons, now clensed of the evil wrought by the time compression Sorceress had given the Moomba an audience with High Council.
The soft, cold as ice voice of Shiva echoed forth from her chair as she spoke, kindly. "What is this new threat, you speak of, little one?" She folded her hands, kindly, as she leaned forward, against the table, to listen to the creature as it tried to explain that it felt a new level of danger rising from deep within the abandoned research facility, where the Ultima Weapon laid sleeping, for now.
A soft nod from Odin was enough to trigger Gilgamesh to speak. His voice sounded slightly muffled, because of the cloth across his mouth, but it still was clear enough to be heard. "We should help him. If something is within those catacombs that Bahamut did not know about, then there is no telling what kind of danger could unfold."
'Twas Pheonix who spoke, after the long pause of shock from Gilgamesh, and by proxy Odin's, words. "We could ... Reach through to the other worlds, and through to our friends, and have them bring forth the mightiest of champions." The many spirits nodded, looking at Pheonix with slight shock, for the youngest of the spirits had come up with an idea that even the eldest of spirits found prudent.
Cloud Strife held his sword, the Buster Blade, tightly as he looked at the last vestiges of the monsters he would have to face. As of late, monsters had been seeping from the old reactors, in Midgar, and it was getting annoying to him to have to fight them off constantly. Tifa's bar was still safe, thankfully, allowing him a few moments respite, just as soon as he took out the last of these Imps. However, something odd happened as he gathered mana into the red materia. An explosion of white filled his view, and he knew no more.
Tifa Lockheart, was, currently, forcing two idiots out of her bar. They had started a fight, and she was NOT allowing that to happen, not after Cloud worked so hard to protect the bar from monsters. These two needed to chill out, her mind echoed as she reached for her materia. The cold stone within her hand grew warm as she focused Mana into it. Then, she felt it, a strange charging of energy, before she, too, saw naught but black.
Terra's blade came down, biting into the neck of a Sand Ray, causing the monster to face into energy. These infernal beasts were, quite possibly, the most annoying monsters to circle Figaro castle. Ever since Kefka's defeat, the monster attacks had become less and less frequent. Some people just assumed it was because the monsters were loosing whatever magic kept them alive. Terra's hand wrapped around the last magical weapon she knew of, other than the matching weapon she'd given to Locke. She felt a strange surge of power, before she descended into a world of darkness.
Locke watched as Terra vanished, his eyes wide as he reached down to grip the hilt of his Ice Brand. Energy crackled, before he, too, dissipated, much to the shock of the Figaro knights who had been helping them fight back the monsters.
Tidus' eyes opened, silently, as he looked up, slowly awakening from his 'dream' into the hands of none other than Yuna. The pyreflies slowly drifted around them, before something changed. Darkness filled their eyes, as the both of them entered into a world of darkness.
Yuffie's eyes widened as the Mythril Dragon descended upon her. Using the last vestiges of her mana, she drew forth the power deep within her materia, the Knights of the Round Table. Her eyes shot wide, as she felt a surge of energy within her body and mind, before all went to shadows ... Her last thought was how bad the Mythril Dragon was going to hurt her.
Interceptor barked louldly, looking up at Shadow, his master. The shinobi nodded lightly as he drew his assasin's dagger, looking into the casm. This was, supposedly, the final resting place of Kefka. Using a rope, he slowly descended into the depths of the pit, Interceptor on his back. As he reached the bottom, the both of them felt dark energy filtering around and through them, both sets of eyes opening wide at the rising shadows that engulfed them, long before they could escape.
Deep within the research facility that had once housed Bahamut, the waters stirred absently as the last remains of Ultemicia rose up from within the water, chuckling. She'd survived. She'd survived Time Compression, the SEEDs, the power of another Sorceress, and even the power of the dimension ripping her Guardian from her. Her eyes flittered over the water, images flowing up to the surface of other souls, like herself, who had been cast into the abyss. Her hand raised as she gathered what she could of her powers, and reached out to them, all of them, to pull them into this world.
ExDeath felt the dark enery filtering down through the dimensional barriers, echoing forth in his mind to strike forward from within the dark depths of the Void. His armor glinted as he stepped forwards, echoing the call, answering the call as he called together the power of the Void to aid his escape.
Kefka's eyes flittered open, laying there in the remains of his castle. He heard the call, the voice of some unknown person beckoning him from his eternal slumber. Slowly, he sat up, power flowing through him as he reached out aswell, using what little magic he still retained from the magitech infusion to reach out, calling back his powers ... And pulling himself through to this new person.
The last vestiges of Sephiroth slowly awoke, gathering themselves together deep within the Northern Crator. He heard the voice, the claws reaching out to pull him from his eternal slumber. Slowly, he stood, gripping the hilt of his Masamune, before he dissipated, conjured by not one, not two, but THREE of the most powerful sorcerers/sorceresses in the dark history of magic.
Seymour, eyes wide, felt the dark energy calling to him from his dark slumber within the temple of the Fayth. His smile spread as he slowly stood up, reaching out to the voice, calling back as he, too, was pulled from the depths of the eather into the nexus that the world of Squall Leonheart had become.
Kefka slowly stepped from the water, smiling at the female that had conjured him. From the same water stepped Seymour, the waves rushing down his blue hair, the scars glinting in the light. Another ripple surged forth as ExDeath stepped from the waves, letting water wash down his armor, smiling a little within his helm. At first, there was silence as these warriors stepped from the waves, before both Sephiroth strode forth from within the waves. Sephiroth's platinum blond hair almost glowed as he stepped forward, in the dark light of the lowest chasm.
The sorceress smirked a bit, looking at the three men she'd summoned. "Welcome, my friends. All of you were given or earned a great deal of power, throughout your lives, fighting against the forces of good. Thus, I have called you here. It is time to end this game, now."