Disclaimer: Jesus, I never thought I'd ever write one of these dumbass things. However, since I value my money and do not wish to be sued by the god of RPG companies, I suppose I'll suck it up and keep writing. Final Fantasy and all original FF concepts and characters are the legal property of Squaresoft, inc. All original characters and this story itself is the intellectual property of me, Zach Woods.
Anyway...
Final Fantasy Reprise
Part One: A Crisis of Time
Prologue
To any onlookers, the two men who slowly made their way through the ruins of what had once been the tower of a demigod would have seemed odd, mismatched, and out-of-place. However, there were no onlookers, and both men knew without a doubt that there was no chance of being seen by anyone.
Of the two men, the taller man would have seemed to be the most odd. He was clad from head to toe in heavy black armor, and wore an enormous sword in a hilt at his side. Upon his head was an imposing helm from which curved two wicked horns in a most demonic fashion, and upon his back hung a thick purple cloak. Why he was fully dressed for battle was a mystery even to his companion; there had not been a full-scale war anywhere in the world since that which ruined the face of the world five years before.
Though less conspicuous, the other man was also quite odd. He wore a suit of leather armor and a purple cloak that encompassed his entire body, keeping his face covered with a light leather hood. However, the single most obvious thing about the shorter man was his considerable supply of weaponry. He wore two scimitars across his back and two more on either side of his waist on his belt, as well as a gun in a holster upon his belt that was quite advanced for the time. Unlike the black-armored man, the heavily armed man had achieved some degree of notoriety throughout the world: he was Sigfried, the self-appointed greatest swordsman in the world.
Neither of the men spoke as they picked their way through the varied ruins, which consisted of a combination of steel panels, odd machinery, and various refuse from cities across the world. Why the armored man desired to reach the center of the treacherous pile of garbage was a mystery to Sigfried, but the swordsman knew that his armored employer had withheld information from him upon hiring him as a bodyguard. This point, in turn, brought up another question: why would the armored man need a bodyguard? It was a well-known fact that not a single living thing had survived the collapse of the tower, save the fourteen individuals who had caused its collapse.
However, before Sigfried could ponder the intentions of the mysterious armored individual further, he found that the man had stopped walking.
"We have arrived," said the man, his voice deep and overpowering. "We stand at the center of Kefka's failure."
Sigfried had never expected to hear the Tower of Kefka referred to as the madman's failure. Kefka had ascended to near-godhood and had unleashed his earth-rending Light of Judgment upon the world from the top of the tower, after all. In fact, the tower itself had achieved a state of sentience near the end of the madman's reign as forced ruler of the world. If he could remember correctly, Sigfried could have sworn that he had heard about a battle with the tower itself occuring before Kefka's destruction. Regardless of his thoughts, however, the swordsman remained silent.
"Have you anything to say?" asked the armored man coldly.
Sigfried shrugged. "What would I have to say, other than that my job here is done. I'd appreciate it if you would pay me the remainder of my fee so I can get back to the coliseum."
Sigfried heard a dark laugh resound within the armored man's helm. "No, Sigfried. Your job has not yet ended. You will be of great use to us before this is over."
The mercenary began to become irritated. "I was only supposed to come this far with you. The job is over; we had a deal. Now give me my money."
"You are in no position to demand that I give you anything, vessel."
"Vessel?" Sigfried said, a puzzled look upon his face. "To tell you the truth, I don't give a damn about you and whoever else you might be talking about, and I'm not 'of use' to anyone who doesn't pay me. Now give me my money."
The armored individual planted his feet firmly in the debris that covered the ground and drew his sword, revealing it to be crafted of some sort of black metal. "What do you plan to do, vessel? Would you fight me?"
Sigfried drew forth two of his swords, holding one in each of his hands. "Gladly."
Being the faster of the two, Sigfried performed his signature opening attack: a wild, flailing series of slashes that always seemed to make contact with their target no less than eight times. However, not a single attack so much as grazed the armored man, for he blocked each one with his enormous sword as if he had known the exact point at which each attack would make contact with his body. This unexpected turn of events caused Sigfried to lose his balance. However, the swordsman took advantage of the situation by leaping toward the armored man and deftly landing a blow beneath the shoulder guard of his armor.
"None escape unscathed from a battle with Sigfried!" cried the swordsman victoriously. However, his feelings of victory turned to those of bewilderment and horror when he realized that his attack had caused absolutely no damage to the armored man. "How...how did you...I nearly severed your arm! I could feel it!"
"No, vessel. You cannot harm me. Stop trying." The armored man was as cold and unemotional as ever.
The command served to fuel Sigfried's anger. He leapt at the armored man once more, fully intending to put his sword through the narrow slit in the helm of his opponent. However, before he could do so, the man raised a hand and chanted a short, unintelligible phrase.
Much to Sigfried's surprise, he found that he could no longer move.
"Look on, vessel," sneered the armored man. "Watch as I, Garland, the Supreme Avatar, invoke the power of our lord Chaos, the Father of Darkness!"
The Supreme Avatar slowly removed his helm, revealing a fearsome, pale visage with long white hair and piercing red eyes. He raised his armored hands into the air. "O Father! Allow me to use thy power to further thy cause! I beseech thee!" The sky above the ruins darkened as Garland continued distractedly. "Time and space shall be defied within this radius, for we shall construct a stronghold both out of time and in the three critical time periods in which the remaining crystals reside. When your vessels are sent forth to gather the crystals, none shall be able to stand in their way. It is thus that our victory is assured!"
Sigfried closed his eyes as an unbearably bright glow surrounded the dark figure of Garland...
Anyway...
Final Fantasy Reprise
Part One: A Crisis of Time
Prologue
To any onlookers, the two men who slowly made their way through the ruins of what had once been the tower of a demigod would have seemed odd, mismatched, and out-of-place. However, there were no onlookers, and both men knew without a doubt that there was no chance of being seen by anyone.
Of the two men, the taller man would have seemed to be the most odd. He was clad from head to toe in heavy black armor, and wore an enormous sword in a hilt at his side. Upon his head was an imposing helm from which curved two wicked horns in a most demonic fashion, and upon his back hung a thick purple cloak. Why he was fully dressed for battle was a mystery even to his companion; there had not been a full-scale war anywhere in the world since that which ruined the face of the world five years before.
Though less conspicuous, the other man was also quite odd. He wore a suit of leather armor and a purple cloak that encompassed his entire body, keeping his face covered with a light leather hood. However, the single most obvious thing about the shorter man was his considerable supply of weaponry. He wore two scimitars across his back and two more on either side of his waist on his belt, as well as a gun in a holster upon his belt that was quite advanced for the time. Unlike the black-armored man, the heavily armed man had achieved some degree of notoriety throughout the world: he was Sigfried, the self-appointed greatest swordsman in the world.
Neither of the men spoke as they picked their way through the varied ruins, which consisted of a combination of steel panels, odd machinery, and various refuse from cities across the world. Why the armored man desired to reach the center of the treacherous pile of garbage was a mystery to Sigfried, but the swordsman knew that his armored employer had withheld information from him upon hiring him as a bodyguard. This point, in turn, brought up another question: why would the armored man need a bodyguard? It was a well-known fact that not a single living thing had survived the collapse of the tower, save the fourteen individuals who had caused its collapse.
However, before Sigfried could ponder the intentions of the mysterious armored individual further, he found that the man had stopped walking.
"We have arrived," said the man, his voice deep and overpowering. "We stand at the center of Kefka's failure."
Sigfried had never expected to hear the Tower of Kefka referred to as the madman's failure. Kefka had ascended to near-godhood and had unleashed his earth-rending Light of Judgment upon the world from the top of the tower, after all. In fact, the tower itself had achieved a state of sentience near the end of the madman's reign as forced ruler of the world. If he could remember correctly, Sigfried could have sworn that he had heard about a battle with the tower itself occuring before Kefka's destruction. Regardless of his thoughts, however, the swordsman remained silent.
"Have you anything to say?" asked the armored man coldly.
Sigfried shrugged. "What would I have to say, other than that my job here is done. I'd appreciate it if you would pay me the remainder of my fee so I can get back to the coliseum."
Sigfried heard a dark laugh resound within the armored man's helm. "No, Sigfried. Your job has not yet ended. You will be of great use to us before this is over."
The mercenary began to become irritated. "I was only supposed to come this far with you. The job is over; we had a deal. Now give me my money."
"You are in no position to demand that I give you anything, vessel."
"Vessel?" Sigfried said, a puzzled look upon his face. "To tell you the truth, I don't give a damn about you and whoever else you might be talking about, and I'm not 'of use' to anyone who doesn't pay me. Now give me my money."
The armored individual planted his feet firmly in the debris that covered the ground and drew his sword, revealing it to be crafted of some sort of black metal. "What do you plan to do, vessel? Would you fight me?"
Sigfried drew forth two of his swords, holding one in each of his hands. "Gladly."
Being the faster of the two, Sigfried performed his signature opening attack: a wild, flailing series of slashes that always seemed to make contact with their target no less than eight times. However, not a single attack so much as grazed the armored man, for he blocked each one with his enormous sword as if he had known the exact point at which each attack would make contact with his body. This unexpected turn of events caused Sigfried to lose his balance. However, the swordsman took advantage of the situation by leaping toward the armored man and deftly landing a blow beneath the shoulder guard of his armor.
"None escape unscathed from a battle with Sigfried!" cried the swordsman victoriously. However, his feelings of victory turned to those of bewilderment and horror when he realized that his attack had caused absolutely no damage to the armored man. "How...how did you...I nearly severed your arm! I could feel it!"
"No, vessel. You cannot harm me. Stop trying." The armored man was as cold and unemotional as ever.
The command served to fuel Sigfried's anger. He leapt at the armored man once more, fully intending to put his sword through the narrow slit in the helm of his opponent. However, before he could do so, the man raised a hand and chanted a short, unintelligible phrase.
Much to Sigfried's surprise, he found that he could no longer move.
"Look on, vessel," sneered the armored man. "Watch as I, Garland, the Supreme Avatar, invoke the power of our lord Chaos, the Father of Darkness!"
The Supreme Avatar slowly removed his helm, revealing a fearsome, pale visage with long white hair and piercing red eyes. He raised his armored hands into the air. "O Father! Allow me to use thy power to further thy cause! I beseech thee!" The sky above the ruins darkened as Garland continued distractedly. "Time and space shall be defied within this radius, for we shall construct a stronghold both out of time and in the three critical time periods in which the remaining crystals reside. When your vessels are sent forth to gather the crystals, none shall be able to stand in their way. It is thus that our victory is assured!"
Sigfried closed his eyes as an unbearably bright glow surrounded the dark figure of Garland...
