Foreword: about the Strife trilogy.
First of all, why "the Strife Trilogy"? My choice of title was inspired by other reputable fantasy titles, and I wanted something more appropriate for a novelisation than 'Final Fantasy VII'. With that in mind the implicit meaning of the titles for each 'book' should be obvious.
As the story goes, this is not just another Final Fantasy VII novelisation, it will be AU at points, and what isn't is still open to my interpretation of the game (as I played it). Despite this I will try to stay as faithful to canon of the original game as I can, if not entirely in plot then in character and substance of the FFVII World. However, I am quite ignorant of the details of Crisis Core, Dirge of Cerberus, Advent Children, and Kingdom Hearts (if that can even be included in FFVII canon) so if I ignore facts from those sequels/prequels, please don't get on my case about it. I may also manipulate certain aspects of the original game based on my chosen understanding. Again, I will not take any interest in anyone pointing this out to me over the course of the story - I know I'm doing it. If you want to discuss my interpretation of events or dialogue from the game feel free to PM me.
As I will be approaching this story in 'book style' there won't be any regurgitation of FFVII gameplay - fights and the like are going to be entirely different, (and far less common, ergo nothing like the system for random battles from the game) and some of the more pointless bosses, plot-wise, won't feature.
On relationships; I have not decided on any one pairing for this tale, I aim to treat all the characters as human (or not, where the case may be) and let their interactions with each other guide me, not the other way around.
Anything else? Oh, right: All characters, quotes and the Final Fantasy VII universe are the intellectual property of Square soft. I own nothing, and make no profit from this. The original story, however, is mine and no one (sans FanFiction{dot}Net) has the right to redistribute it without my permission, and I reserve the right, along with Square Soft. and FanFiction{dot}Net to remove it at any time. I will only state this once, refer here for Disclaimer for future chapters.
So, all that said, if I haven't turned you away by now, let's get this show on the road!
~BenignViewer
The Strife Trilogy
Book 1: S.O.L.D.I.E.R.
Prelude:
A carrion hawk screeched over the barren and lifeless plain. The low despairing cry joined with others as more and more of the creatures gathered at the site below. The most brazen of the birds swooped down and pecked one of the prone figures on the ground, only to retake to the air when he moved.
He stirred blearily at the sudden jab in his flank, pain dulled eyes struggling to make sense of the scene around him. Climbing to his knees, he was most pressingly aware of the onset of night and the chill air coaxing his body back to the ground.
No.
He would not stop, he could not slow down or they'd catch them…
Not back there…
But he couldn't move fast with the cold slowing his body. At last registering the bodies around him, he suppressed any emotion at the grizzly necessity of stripping them. A deep indigo uniform seemed familiar to him, and proved to be in better condition than his own ripped clothing, long since unrecognizable. Pulling the fatigues and vest, with accompanying shoulder guard, over his own clothes, he cast his gaze around for a weapon next.
A massive thick sword, looking bizarrely like five-foot elongated butcher's knife caught his attention and stirred some sense of familiarity in his hand and mind.
'Buster' blade? You fancy yourself as some kind of swashbuckling butcher?
…Something like that.
The voices filled his ears for a moment, an indistinct picture of another time and place swum in front of his eyes. Then;
Live… Live my life.
The memory throbbed in his head, physical pain reflecting his confusion… he didn't know which voice was his. As his vision returned to the rocky, body-strewn plain around him, he looked down to the dark haired man before him, and shed a single solitary tear in sorrow incomprehensible to his delirious state of mind.
He felt like he should do something here, say something maybe, it felt wrong to just leave his body to the patiently circling scavengers above. He got to his feet but could neither summon the energy to dig a grave nor any appropriate words to speak. He wasn't even sure he knew him. Everything was confused.
Finally he decided he was wasting too much time contemplating two impossible courses of action, and instead dragged the man with a spiky black hair and a hauntingly familiar face to a rocky outcrop a few paces away. There he covered the body with all the stones he could lift, making a humble mound that was indistinguishable from its surrounds.
His conscience appeased he turned away, looking at the large glowing city beyond the plain and bluff on which he stood. It could only be his destination. Coldly, he ignored the other numerous bodies, feeling nothing but a greater determination to get away at the sight of the masked faces, negotiating his way across the plain and bluff to the city in the distance.
Midgar…
…You ever been to the city before?
No.
Well, it's different, alright…
…