Cloud reflects on the irony during his stage performance at the "Gold Saucer."
- The Act -
It would have been easy to follow the script, but that wasn't reality. Life was not scripted, penned in black in white; it was written with morbid hues of red. The blood of countless millennia woven into its fabric. He had been a SOLDIER 1st Class, a martyr, and a rebel. Then again, maybe those three were one and the same. A Trinity united for a greater cause, but the only consequence he ever saw was death.
A finality - an end.
The play should have been simple: follow the lines, be the hero, and rescue the girl. Then why couldn't he do it? He had always lived in the shadows of others and in the darkness of his own consciousness. He had a hard enough time trying to regain his own sanity in life; he didn't need to play the role of another.
He stood on stage next to the Knight, a legendary warrior revered through countless folklore. It was always 'the Knight' who saved the princess, not the hired mercenary. His hands were stained far beyond repentance.
He had seen the look in her eyes. She wanted him to play along so badly. But that is all he ever did, play along. Aerith appeared so innocent under the softened glow of the stage lamps. Maybe she played the role of Princess Rosa far better than anyone else. He was never the legendary hero Alfred; he was the one who adhered blindly to orders – the mercenary, the SOLDIER. To many, Cloud might have more closely mirrored the Evil Dragon King - a solitary figure searching, living off the torment of others.
'The Knight' stood on stage garnished in shining armor. It was majestic in a sardonic way. A suit so beautiful - adorned on something trained to kill with implacable accuracy. Maybe this 'Knight' was just an actor, a hired worker on a stage, but to Cloud it was something far more. It represented everything that he could never be.
A hero - a savior.
Because of his beliefs, he could not adhere to the script. It was based on the idealistic concept that 'true love' conquers all. But what did the writers know? Had they ever been on the battle front? Had they smelled the pungent stench of death? He had. True love was a myth, one that he could never obtain. He didn't have time for such pedestrian emotions. Did he?
He remembered her eyes, they were pleading. He should have been able to do this one simple favor for her. He couldn't live this lie, even if it was just on stage. Let the Knight be the hero of this performance. Maybe Cloud Strife was already in a play, acting the part of somebody else in life.
The role of Knight was better left to someone else.