The world was starting over.
No.
It was far more accurate to say that the humans were starting over. The world would've went on its merry way with or without them.
Cocoon was a shell of death and crystal veins, stagnant and decaying without the power from Orphan and the Sanctum Fal'Cie. Yes, Cocoon had been dealt a mortal blow on the Day Of The Fall, the death and injured toll estimated to be in the millions, but the total destruction of the flying utopia would take a year or two.
It had started with something so simple, the weather. Without power or light, Cocoon slowly froze, the sunlight from the outside unable to penetrate the dense shell.
The Fal'Cie had always provided humanity with their every fancy; without them, humanity struggled as a whole, trying to regain their instincts which had long since been bred out of them, like temperament out of dogs. They struggled to grow food in the harsh Outlands, the weather unyielding, water scarce and the sun nonexistent.
Then the government fell. Many in the crumbling Sanctum abandoned Cocoon on that fateful day, leaving behind a destructive supernova of a leadership that collapsed on itself and formed an incompetent neutron star. Eventually, the Sanctum, which had stood as the pillar of strength for hundreds of years, fell, leaving behind a legacy of clandestine operations, greed and a government sanctioned genocide.
Many succumbed to starvation or were devoured by the unchecked beast population, which near tripled when PSICOM's brutal fiends escaped their creators and rampaged, their animal instincts taking over without the control of the humans.
The death toll was in the thousands in that year alone. It was the hardest year in human history, second only to the mystery annihilation of the original Gran Pulsians.
The lush but untamed world of Gran Pulse was the only viable option left to what remained of humanity.
The next year saw a massive influx of surviving refugees, the ships overpacked each time and running nonstop, but the process couldn't move fast enough for many. They had abandoned Cocoon and come to a world of challenges, but here they had the opportunity to survive.
It was an difficult experience. First, there needed to be leadership, accountability. That would come in the form of the Academy, founded by Bartholomew Estheim. They started out as an organized security force with the help of the members of the paramilitary group, NORA, and eventually were looked on as the main branch government. They grew rapidly, bringing the former soldiers of PSICOM and the Guardian Corps underneath them to help humanity advance by keeping the fiends at bay as the first villages, and eventually, cities, were erected. They became the Academy Guardians, a name conceived by popular opinion.
Second, humanity needed to regain their instinct. When NORA began offering self-defense and survival training, each instruction was always overfilled. Many became Guardians after graduating these instructions, but they weren't highly trained or violent people. Rather they were normal men and women who wanted to do anything to help their families survive. Some even became Academy Scholars, students researching the harsh land to understand the mysteries of the feared Gran Pulse and teach the next generation so they would never again become complacent.
Finally, after seven long years of hardship and struggle, humanity was finally settling into a normal rhythm, a routine that everyone knew by heart. Very few missed the old world and many children were born without ever setting foot on the planet of their parents. As far as they knew, the crystal pillar was always there, Academia was the oldest thing ever and that you should never pet an Ochu, lest you incur the wrath of its mother.
Mother... Lightning grumbled loudly, attracting some unwanted attention from her two teammates. Though it wasn't that hard, they were flat on their stomachs, the stone edge slick with dew and the wetness creeping into their uniforms.
"What?" Zell hissed, wondering what he was doing wrong as he adjusted his grip on his rifle.
Lightning didn't want to go into her emotional problems with Zell and Cloud. After all, she wasn't even sure about this herself and she wasn't the type to spill her fears to random strangers anyways. But she did admit that they did deserve an explanation after Cloud nearly shot himself when he jumped.
"It's... Nothing."
"Sure didn't sound like nothing," Zell whispered, aiming again. "I thought that you had a problem."
"I do."
"Want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Okay, then. Shut up."
Lightning's eyes flashed dangerously, but before she could cram those words back down Zell's throat, Cloud fired, drowning those violent thoughts out as she focused again. The Behemoth roared in pain as it was blinded in one eye by the blond soldier's true shot and again by Zell's.
Lightning jumped to her feet and slid down the face of the rocky hill, firing her gunblade into whatever exposed Behemoth flesh she could. The beast was blind, struggling to sense its prey when her blade found quick purchase in its head, ending the fight before it began and ridding Lèmonadè of its troublesome Behemoth problem.
As the beast slumped onto the grass, she took the time it would take Zell and Cloud to reach her to reflect. She wouldn't be able to do this for much longer. Her age wasn't the issue, she was only 27 or 28, prime time for a soldier of with her experience, but her body would soon betray her, turning her into a weak-willed, feeble-wristed, incompetent mess of hormones despite her screamed protests as she got dragged down that hall.
She shuddered, wiping Behemoth blood off her blade on the grass. Maker, she didn't want to spend her days on the couch, watching television and eating sweets, but the urge to do just that was already there. That was the two parts of her, the part that wanted to do...That... And the part that wanted to kill something in rage at her female organs because she couldn't very well stab herself.
She would've tried if it were possible.
She didn't listen at all as Selphie, the fourth member of their team, greeted them at the entrance of the town, babbled on as they waited for the connecting train and launched into an in-depth hypothesis of who her friend Rinoa had a crush on as they rode back to Academia.
Two hours of pure blocking later, Lightning had far too much knowledge about the contents of Tifa's underwear drawer-why? Just...why?-and resolved that next time, she would bring earplugs.
If there was a next time, she realized with a sickening blow to her gut.
She reached reflexively into her top, pulling at the loop dangling from its protective chain as they entered the safe gates of Academia. The sun was well into its setting, the reddish light giving her simple ring a strange luminosity as she slipped it back onto its place on her left ring finger. She never wore it out in the field for fear of losing this precious reminder of her family.
He wouldn't care either way, as long as she came home safe and alive, but this small loop of silver meant so much to her.
Her heart was a wild animal, gnawing on the entrapping cage of bone. Feelings ran rabid in her chest as the city came into her sight, the heat devouring every speck of coldness left.
But the heat was tinted with a film of bittersweet emotions. Her family was shattered, twin pieces broken off and melted into the earth and sky.
They would never see Fang and Vanille again, unless the Maker decided to start doling out miracles with the impossible label, and they all grieved for their sacrifice. They didn't have to become Ragnarok. Didn't have to save them all at the price of their own freedoms. It would've been nothing for them to let Cocoon fall, to serve as a cautionary tale to what few survivors there would be.
But they didn't.
And that made it hurt even more, though after so long, the hurt was a dull ache every now and again.
She wondered how Fang and Vanille would respond to her current predicament.
She grimaced. She knew far to well how they would react. They were the ones who had forced her to come to grips with her feelings on Gran Pulse all those years ago after all. Stupid... They probably were looking down on her right now, smirking deviously.
Fang would laugh and ask what the hell took so long. Vanille would squeal and ask to be godmother and a million other questions that would make Lightning beg to know the content of Fran's underwear drawers... But not by much.
She sighed, making her way to the home she shared with her lovable oaf of a husband. It was a small, cozy two bedroom home decorated rather sparsely. They weren't people that were fond of excessive ornamentation, rather they preferred the few treasures they had. That faded vase they had found in a cave. Her Captain's badge.
Her favorite, though she would never admit it to anyone, was the picture resting on the mantel of the fireplace. Taken by her sister, it was a rare public display of affection.
In the photograph, she looked awkwardly away from her sister, who was laughing that day, blushing as her blond husband hugged her from behind, nuzzling her pink hair. The top of her memorial tattoo, a thing she had gotten with the other ex-l'Cie to honor the time they spent together, could be seen peeking out on the left side of her chest.
She picked up the picture now and sighed, sliding her fingers down the shape of Snow's face, wishing that he would be home sooner. She wanted his opinion on her... Current situation.
It was hard for her at first to accept this part of herself, the part that loved him deeply behind a thin veil of punches and degradation. That part of her she had hidden for a long time because Snow was her beloved sister's fiancé.
But then their common grief had made her look at him differently again. Behind his joking and hero complex, he was actually thoughtful, endlessly kind and optimistic, the perfect counterpoint to her, the fountain of cynicism and negativity. With Fang's endless barrage of thinly veiled innuendos aimed at Lightning and Snow and Vanille's encouragement that they-quote-"Belong together," it was only a matter of where and when...
And Serah... Of course there was Serah.
How many months after the Fall had it been before her sister, freed from her crystal prison, had come to her, telling her that she couldn't understand what Snow saw in her, that being alone for so long had changed her perspective? Two or three? She wasn't strong enough to even fight for herself, leaving the brunt on her sister and boyfriend, not to mention four others.
Serah had expressed a desire to become stronger for herself that day, her sister watching her with an incredulous expression on her face, the bitter tea in her mug forgotten. She said she still cared for Snow, but that someone weak like her wasn't the right kind of person for him. He needed an equal.
"You love him, don't you, Claire?" Lightning had spilled her tea at that comment, thankful that the mat underneath them was deep brown.
"W - What? Of course not!"
Skeptical eyes. "Sure. Okay, let's try something simpler. Do you care about him?"
She had paused ten seconds far too long.
"I knew it!" To her surprise, Serah had laughed in relief. "You have a crush on him!"
"No, I don't. He's yours, Serah. He's your fiancé."
Serah had become somber. "Not for a few months."
"What? What happened?"
"We broke up. I told you that."
"No, you said that-why didn't you tell me this before?!"
"I don't have to get your permission for everything."
Silence.
"And you think that I'm the person for him? I'm his ex's sister."
A shrug.
"Maybe he needs a person like you in his life to keep him grounded. You two just seem like a nice pair..."
"Serah."
"What? Come on, I was joking! Look, I don't mean you two run off and get hitched, but you two need a friend who understands."
Then Serah had left, heading out with some pioneers to the south. Lightning had visited her in the settlement when the Academy started building Datanet towers two years later. Serah had become a strong, independent young woman who people counted on. She said she wanted to be a teacher later on, her whole life plan laid out in detail. She didn't need Lightning anymore.
So she became friends with Snow.
At first, it was awkward. She had assaulted his front door the very day she returned and when he did greet her, she had stared at her hands.
Then she had spun on her heel and left him standing in the doorway, bewildered at the situation.
The next day, she had found him at her front door, hesitating.
"Sorry," she had said, before stepping to the side to let him in.
It didn't start out romantic, but it became that after a year or two.
He had asked her to marry him.
She had punched him in the face.
Nearly two years later, she mumbled into her pillow after one particularly draining day, "Let's get married."
And that was that.
Now there was this. The firmness in her belly could pass off as muscle for a few more weeks, but soon there would be no denying it.
She set the picture back down and warred with herself as she stared at the phone, lying there as innocently as ever.
This wasn't an enemy she could fight. This wasn't even an enemy. But that meant she couldn't solve this situation the way she usually did, with her weapon or her fists.
Lightning ignored the phone and instead went for the bedroom, changing from her damp uniform into a pair of woven pants and a white tank-top.
She couldn't kill something. But she could clean the frenzy of emotions away.
But even as she dusted the stove for the ninth time, she couldn't forget those words from the doctor. She sighed again.
This was such bittersweet news. She had lost some family, only to possibly gain one which would be entirely hers.
At least, she hoped it was one. Anything more might kill her.
She was happy, as happy as she could manage, but afraid at the same time.
Snow would do fine, but what could she teach a child?
The short list made her cringe.
Once again, she was at the phone.
This wasn't something that she had ever allowed herself to imagine even eight years ago. Having a family... A husband... A child.
She was terrified, ecstatic and sad at the same time. Fang and Vanille, her parents... They would never meet this child.
But Snow, Hope, Sazh, Dajh and Serah. They were her family. They would be a part of this child's life.
Serah answered on the third ring. It was well into nighttime there, but she needed this.
"Serah?"
"Yeah...?"
She smiled, placing a hand on her stomach.
"I'm pregnant."
AN: BY GOD, MY HAND HURTS! Hey, guys. It's meeeee. I'm back doing SLight fics. Yay. So I was on Wattpad and saw the overwhelming number of SLight fics. Zero. _ oookay...? I can't be the only person who likes this pair! So, I wrote this in three days, constantly going over it again and again until I liked it. It's all poetic, yay. Read, review and vote. Thanks. :3 this is 2645 words. Whoa...
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I'm going to be less active on Fanfiction, so find me on Wattpad! I have the same username there, so go there and read my works! People who say they're from FF get a cookie. :