Blanket Disclaimer: We do not, and never will, own these characters or the Final Fantasy franchise. Remembering Ravens does own a damaged copy of FF7 though, that she will never be able to play again *sob*.

Blanket Warnings: Spoilers here, spoilers there, oh look: spoilers everywhere! Hmm...let's see...blood and gore, lots of it; language or lack thereof; psychological trauma, oh the trauma; and that's pretty much it. For now the fic's pretty much gen with perhaps a pinch of Zerith; but that could change. May have Hetero- or Homosexual relationships, then again it may not. You've been warned. There is also a strong compelling argument made towards the presence of an unreliable narrator (so believe at your own risk). Oh! In case you missed it in the summary, this fic is a Time Travel AU. Overdone, yes; but it's practically a must for any FF7 fanfic writer. A rite of passage, you might say.

Note: There are a lot of references to the FF7 compilation in this chapter. If you're up to it, see if you can find them all and from which game/movie they're from. Also, I hope you can forgive us for all the angst in this chapter. However, I'm sure that you'd agree with us when we say: that if you were in a similar type of situation to that of which we placed Cloud in, you'd understand. Don't worry though, the ass kicking starts the next chapter~

Song(s) listened to while writing: Runaway by (the) Yeah Yeah Yeahs; Lonely Day by System of a Down; Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey.

Prologue: Prelude to a Herald

"Past is Prologue." ~ William Shakespeare

Green. All of his nightmares, all of his failures, all of his problems were tainted with the color green. Cloud was sick of it. He couldn't even sleep at night, without seeing that damn color. Not that he was getting much sleep at all. The world ending kind of made that difficult. However, when he did slumber, Cloud's dreams were constantly plagued by the eyes of those he had loved, those he had lost. Those he had killed.

Cloud gazed out into the warm night air, watching the fires rage in the distance, painting the ground a deep blood red. As the moon was hidden behind of suffocating blanket of ash and smoke, Cloud was grateful for the light the flames granted. The only thing worse than nothingness, was the color green. Or – Gaia forbid – a green oblivion. He shuddered at the thought.

He stood and quickly gathered his belongings; if he sat around any longer he'd go crazy. Hefting his absurdly large sword over his shoulder, the blond walked. Hours passed and soon enough the flames in the distance we're beyond even Cloud's line of sight. The world was dark; his bright blue eyes, laced with traces of green, were the only light for miles. He felt like the last thing alive on this desolate rock.

"You're never really alone," a low baritone growled thoughtfully. "There's always companionship to be found, if you seek it." The voice sounded different than he last recalled. Then again, this voice wasn't broken up by the static of an old radio as it screamed a war cry for the very last time. A cry that signaled the loss of yet another dear friend.

Minerva, he'd do anything not to be alone.

The swordsman fell to his knees, eyes burning. He couldn't do this any longer.

"You're gonna give up and die, is that it?" This voice was different; husky, feminine. Accusing. Cloud closed his eyes. Eyes the color of wine spread wide as they fell into the molten pit below appeared at the forefront of his mind, replaying with a cruel clarity across the dark screen of his eyelids. He remembered listening to the screams echoing off the chasm to hell, as the owner of those eyes burned below, her last moments spent writhing in agony as Gaia consumed her whole.

He choked, his now opened eyes flashing bright with emotion. Cloud parted his lips, to call out for Nanaki or Tifa, but quickly clamped his mouth shut. In any case, there was no point in wasting his breath calling out to people who couldn't hear him. He wasn't sure he could stand this silence anymore. Its pervasive reach was doing strange things to his head. Cloud just wanted things to end already.

"You can't give up now! There ain't no getting off of this train once it's rolling!"

The blond chuckled at that. Damn, Barret and his train metaphors. The large man had shouted – the only way Barret knew best how to communicate (not to say that it didn't work; one couldn't completely ignore someone who was screaming into their ears) – those stupid sayings all the way until his subsequent death. Ironic, considering he died escorting the sheep-like survivors through the wreckage of what once was the Train Graveyard in the slums. At the end of the world, the monsters were just as desperate as the people.

He shook his head, determined for his thoughts not to head in that morbid direction. But… Even after all these years…his friends were still with him, pushing him on, even though they couldn't physically be there. Cloud couldn't let them down, not after everything they'd been through… Shakily getting to his feet, Cloud slowly gathered his bearings. Everything he was doing was for them, that's why he had to find…

What was he trying to find? Civilization? Survivors? Life? What?

Hope…

Cloud rolled the word around his mouth thoughtfully, the taste saturating his dry tongue. "…Hope…" he whispered, voice rough from disuse.

"That's right, silly. Hope." A voice giggled, her tone soft and comforting. He would know this voice anywhere.

Aerith.

"I−" Cloud's voice cracked harshly. He loudly cleared his parched throat. "I'm t-trying to find…hope?" Hope was such a funny word; it could mean anything really. It just depended on what the person wished for. At this point, Cloud operationalized hope to be a swift end – even nothingness was preferable to this hell.

"No, Cloud." Aerith gently admonished him, her soprano light and airy; the perfect balm to soothe his breaking heart.

"You are hope."

Him? The embodiment of hope? The man who couldn't save anybody, who utterly failed the people he loved? Hope? Cloud laughed and laughed. And laughed some more. The air seemed to lodge in his lungs, almost choking him in his mirth, but he couldn't stop. It was just too damn funny.

"Yo! Spikey! What's so damn funny about that?" Barret fumed, still seemingly unable to differentiate between 'indoor' and 'outdoor' voices. Cloud ignored them in favor of clutching his aching sides. Oh Gaia, when was the last time he had truly laughed?

"Hmm…you think he's finally lost it?"

"Yuffie!" Tifa scolded.

"What?!" The Wutaian ninja's normally chipper voice lowered into a sulk. "It was just a simple question." Cloud could almost see the pout he knew adorned her small delicate features, large slanted brown eyes sullen but unrepentant.

Oh, how he missed them.

Cloud did his best, despite the agony that constantly racked his empty stomach and the pain that emanated from his parched throat, to keep on living for them. He had wandered this desolate decaying rock for so long, surviving off the few monsters that still roamed, but…

What was the point of suffering and struggling for people who were no longer around? Who were no longer alive?

The man's laughs quickly made way to dry sobs. He couldn't cry anymore, he'd already used his tears all up. Or all of his close encounters with fire and volcanic emissions damaged his tear ducts. Either way, the results were the same.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, curled up on the ground, metal sword digging into his back. Minutes? Hours? Cloud had long ago lost his ability to keep track of time. However, his sobs eventually subsided to numbness. Instead he just laid there, bright blue eyes content to stare at a sky he could no longer see.

"Get up, Cloud."

Frankly, Cloud didn't really want to. Besides, Vincent really wasn't one to talk – the ex-Turk had given up, so why couldn't he? The blond could still see it, still remember it. Vincent saved Shelke, but he didn't even try to save himself. Now the gunman was buried under a ton of rubble in what once known as the dark city of Midgar. Perhaps the planet was simply seeking a retribution for the Deepground incident, regardless of whether they were a member of the guilty party or not. Not that it mattered – dead was dead.

A sensation of smoke whispered across his face. "Stop moping and get your whiny ass moving, brat!" The harsh voice berated him, almost forcing Cloud to move instinctually. Cid's manner hadn't changed at all since passing on into the lifestream; not that Cloud wanted it to. He liked Cid just the way he was: gruff, impatient, and kind (in his own way).

A touch ghosted across the burned skin on his shoulder; pleasantly cool against the pulsing heat. "C'mon Cloud," Tifa prodded, coaxing the blond into a sitting position. "You can't just give up. You have to keep on going, keep on living."

"Yeah!" Yuffie shouted, seemingly recovered from her huff. "I mean, who's going to remember us if you don't? Someone has to remember, otherwise it was all for nothing."

Remember? Cloud would never forget them! …But other people would, if there was even anyone left alive at this point. Regardless, he couldn't give up quite yet. He had work to do, people to find, loved ones to remember. I better stop dilly-dallying and get moving.

Cloud stood, a new strength surging through his limbs. He had a purpose again. Now he just had to fulfill it.

"Took you long enough," Cid huffed. "Even the moon would tire of waiting around for your sorry ass."

"Settle down, Cid." An even baritone soothed and Cloud instantly recognized it as Reeve's. Reeve, Yuffie, and Cid were safe. Cloud never knew how they died and he couldn't bring himself to ask. He just knew that they were dead. "Everyone deserves a little down time every once in a while. Cloud deserves it more than most."

Cloud's lips twitched. Thanks guys.

And so Cloud wandered. Time passed and slowly but surely, the bond grew weaker. Finding sustenance in the forms of stray monsters from time to time was clearly not enough. The glowing pinpricks of blue light were dulling, fading into the ever-present shadows of this world. His thinning muscles contrasted sharply with the bones that visibly protruded from his form veiled by a thin layer of sickly pale skin. But Cloud didn't care. He didn't mind the fact that he was starving or that his eyesight was steadily failing him. He had his friends and that was all he needed.

Sadly, his body disagreed with him.

One day Cloud simply fell and couldn't get back up. He frowned at his legs – or where he thought they were – in disgust, ashamed at his own weakness. The blond tried again, this time putting all of his energy into it. But it was to no avail. The swordsman would never take another step in that world again.

Instead he lay there, unable to see anything outside his personal world of nothingness, blankly staring at the sky, his once bright cerulean eyes glazed with a milky film. He awaited the usual chatter that would assail him, but there was nothing, not even a peep. It was strange. Normally, Yuffie would be there to talk his ear off or Barret would give him a headache with his booming voice. Instead, Cloud was greeted with silence.

Years ago, Cloud would have loved to be left to dwell quietly in his solitude. Now he hated it with a passion. Silence meant being alone. And Cloud didn't want to be left alone. He wanted– no, needed his friends in a way he never thought he could. They were necessary to his very survival; like the air, laced with the taint of rotten eggs, that he breathed every day.

Cloud cleared his throat. "…G-guys?"

No response.

"…Anybody?"

Silence still reigned, almost mocking Cloud's attempts to overthrow it.

There was no Tifa there to put up with the swordsman's sullenness with good cheer or Yuffie to act out in all her usual quirkiness. No Cid and Barret to share a round with at Tifa's bar. No Nanaki or Reeve to guide the group with a gentle touch or helpful information. There was no Vincent to shadow Cloud's movements out of concern. No Aerith to comfort the blond as he floundered around in the dark.

No one. Cloud was well and truly alone.

He attempted to move, but found his body unresponsive. Sighing, he gave up and simply waited. What exactly he was waiting for, he had no idea – but it was better than nothing.

How long he lay there, the blond didn't know. He drifted in and out of sleep for what could have been simply minutes or days. A soft scuffling noise alerted him to the approaching visitor. Idly, the swordsman wondered if it was a monster or a human. Eventually, he felt something warm prod at his neck. Cloud wanted to open his eyes, but found himself unable to pry his eyelids apart.

The blond parted his lips, as if to speak, but felt something apply a gentle pressure to his lips, as if to shush him. However, Cloud would not be quieted; he was confused and wanted answers. "…W-who…?"

A snort shattered the heavy silence. "You're not one to do as you're told, are you?" The voice was masculine, a smooth tenor. A human. Cloud rolled the thought around his head, tasting the word in his sandpaper mouth. Amazing; there really were people still around. Cloud wasn't as alone as he thought he was.

The blond felt the man stand, listening to the dust the stranger's feet kicked up. "Hmm, an odd choice for her… Oh well. That'll just make things more interesting in the long run." Cloud felt the man eye him, tone thoughtful.

"W-what…do you…want?" Cloud croaked, his cracked lips graced by the beautiful moisture of his blood.

The stranger laughed. "Why, I seek for what we all search for: the gift of the goddess."

Cloud let his mouth close. The man was making no sense and Cloud was too tired to care anymore. He just wanted to fall into the tempting oblivion of sleep and stay there.

A foot lightly nudged his side, startling the blond into wakefulness. "We'll be having none of that now. There's too much to do and so little time."

Cloud wanted to ask what he meant by that, but the stranger interrupted him. "Ah, looks like you've arrived just in time, my friend." Cloud heard another set of footsteps approach, but was more distracted by the pure energy that crackled in the atmosphere. His nose stung from the heady scent of mako, the very lifeblood the planet. How he hated that smell.

Cloud's body greeted the mako like one would an old friend, happily embracing the hum that filled his body. His mind however, gagged at the too-familiar sensation. He felt hands, both small and large, ghost across his shoulders and arms, but there was one set in particular that caught his attention. Strong and calloused, the hand gripped his shoulder tightly before removing itself.

"Good luck, Cloud."

The blond cried out at the voice, the voice that he had long given up on ever hearing again. The voice of his best friend.

Zack?

A flash of pain lanced through Cloud's head, numbing his limbs and constricting his lungs. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. A roar drowned out everything, silencing all but a single voice.

"Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return. To become the dew that quenches the land. To spare the sands, the seas, the skies; I offer thee…this silent sacrifice."

Change was coming. Morosely, Cloud noted that change was green.

Sadly, unbeknownst to Cloud, the planet miscalculated. Minerva screwed up. And this time, there would be no second chances.