Random oneshot I thought up when I should have been going to bed. I have never actually played Final Fantasy 7, or Final Fantasy 7 Crisis Core, so if any facts are wrong, sorry. Please tell me so I can fix them. Anyway, this is my take on Zack Fair's feelings towards the outcome of Final Fantasy 7. Please read, enjoy, and review.
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The world was dying. It was simple enough to realize just from taking a quick look around.
Meteor was coming. Aerith was dead. People were dying. The planet was ruined, and would likely never be the same again. The apocalypse was here and now.
People were panicking, fleeing from their homes with much more horror and alarm than was really helpful with the current situation. Members of Avalanche were currently attempting to somehow manage to orderly get people away from their homes and the ever approaching Meteor that signaled doom and destruction for them all, desperately hoping their fellow teammates would somehow find a solution to end the current madness.
Surely this couldn't be the end. But though their teammates were attempting every possible solution, and failing desperately at most, the fact remained that Meteor was coming fast, and they had no sure way to stop it. Though still, the members of Avalanche tried. To save themselves, to save their friends. To save innocent people, to save corrupt people. To save the world, and to fight for the memory of a flower girl no longer fighting beside them.
Through terrible odds, Avalanche fought on, because someone had to hope, right? At least that's what a certain onlooker mused silently, as he watched the horrendous and bleak events unfold. From his position on top a rock, he could see the members of Avalanche preparing for what they knew was a likely impossible task.
The leader, dressed in the blue uniform of Soldier, that the silent onlooker himself also wore, said something, and they began to leave, until only the leader and the dark haired woman remained. Suddenly, the uniformed man dropped to the ground, clutching his head in pain.
He muttered some unintelligent nonsense about someone still there, and collapsed. The woman cried out his name, Cloud, as his unconscious body dropped to the ground. The onlooker's face twisted in pain, and he rushed forward, though his presence would do nothing to aid the fallen man.
Still, he came to sit next to the body, unnoticed by the frantic and worried woman who continuously called out the leader's name over and over, in a feeble attempt to awake the man. The onlooker sighed, somewhat realizing what was happening inside the other man's head, and also realizing there was nothing anyone could do. Neither the woman calling out his name, nor he himself, invisible and disregarded as he currently was.
No, no one could do a thing to help the young man, who currently fought a battle in his head; the outcome that could determine both his sanity, the safety of the one's around him, and possibly the good of the world. No, this was a battle the young leader was forced to fight alone, and no matter how much the onlooker wanted to take some of the burden onto his own shoulders, he could do nothing to help.
He was nothing more than a shadow in the background.
But the unconscious leader was not the only one his heart twisted painfully for. Not just the leader, but his opponent as well, though the warped, cruel version the man had become no longer resembled the general he had once cared for and respected. Though that knowledge did nothing to help his sanity, and he still felt a bitter resentment to the events that had caused this showdown.
The showdown he could neither watch, nor give aid to either side; though helping one side win was not necessarily his desire, he would much rather put a stop to the fight once and for all.
Though he knew that that could not be done, and that if it could, it would not be done by him. So, he silently sat by the unconscious leader, face set in a painful grimace, and hands wringing in anticipation for what would become of well, everything.
The ground beneath the three began to crack, a sign that the planet was dying and fading away. The better future they had hoped for seemed too much to ask for, as a quick look to the darkened sky told the onlooker that Meteor was still fast approaching. Maybe, there was simply nothing they could do.
The ground gave way, and the unconscious man fell with it, landing heavily on a ledge quite a way below, while the woman just nearly jumped out of the way in time, and called out for him as she gazed over the edge in horror. He had indeed been lucky, a inch or two over, and he would have fallen to his death.
The onlooker, unseen by the frantic woman, fell with the unconscious man, and landed near him, though the rough landing proved to give him no pain. His blue eyes gazed at the still silent man, wishing desperately that he could awaken him, warn him of the danger he currently was in.
But it seemed that he didn't need to, for the man slowly stood, his eyes still closed, as if in a trance. He still didn't seem to be aware of the events unfolding around him, as he continued to fight his internal battle. Then, slowly, his eyes lifted, as the ground shook harder and rocks rained down on him. He looked dazed for a moment or two, before realization dawned on him and he recognized the hand held out to him. He grabbed onto it, just as the woman fell, and pulled her to safety up against his chest as he gripped onto a ledge above him.
The onlooker smiled a pained smile, stepping out of the way of the raining boulders, and remained on the ledge. The Soldier was awake, and well, as he had hoped. But that meant the opponent had been dealt with, and defeated. The opponent had likely been lost, and the onlooker couldn't help but feel a pang of regret at this knowledge.
If only…..but no, even then nothing would have changed. After all, he was not able to change the inevitable future quite that much, no matter how much he wished he had been given that ability. It was quite likely nothing could have changed the current events, and kept the general from becoming the deranged opponent fighting in an internal struggle in the leader's muddled mind.
The leader and the woman had pulled themselves onto a ledge, and now stood, calling out to the other Avalanche members visible from across the way. The onlooker followed them up the cliff face with ease, and came to stand next to them as he heard their exchanged words.
Tears threatened to spill down his face, as he thought of the man he had once know. The respected man that Avalanche had never known, and had instead fought the thing that hatred had twisted him into. Unnoticed, unseen, and undetected by the others on the ledge, the onlooker walked forward, and brought his arms around the uniformed leader, pulling him into an awkward hug that was neither received nor appreciated.
Still, he held him tight as the tears finally spilled over.
Silently, he stood, wishing that both opponents of the internal duel could fell his gesture of both friendship and support, but sadly knowing that neither would. One was too far lost, and one was still of the world of the living, unable to know of his presence in the slightest.
But still, the onlooker remained in his disregarded and caring position, crying for the one lost, and the one still there. Caring both for the victor, and the defeated.
He remained, until the members of Avalanche entered into the battered airship, and then he watched as Holy prepared to defend the planet from the calamity of Meteor. Lowering his head, he whispered, "Good bye, my friend," a gesture meant both from the leader and the enemy, smiling softly as his voice faded without a reply.
Holy rose up, bathing him in an unnatural green glow; a tingling spread throughout his body, and he knew that his time in the world of the living was up. He had exceeded his welcome, and was returning to the Lifestream, where a pretty little flower girl waited for his return, as she too felt for her friends as they just narrowly escaped the same fate as the two lifeless souls.
The tears disappeared, as his 'body' faded, and he was left with nothing more than his soul in the unnatural but not unwelcome light. And though his tears were gone, still he wept, for both his dear friends; one who would eventually die a hero, and one who had died an madman.