Vincent Valentine

The Way of Worlds

There was no sun in this place, the bowl of the great void broken upon the earth by the outreached arms of the trees, glowing with a beseeching light.

It had been so long since human eyes had laid bare this place… there was no wind, yet there was soft movement all around, the trees, the earth, the water, all breathing quietly, watching their visitors as they stood in silence, weeping.

I could see them all from here, standing at the water's edge, gentle ripples caressing the earth at their feet, watching as one of our number was sent back to rest in the cradled depths of this place forever more.

The soft luminescence of the earth around me touched me with its purity. The trees seemed to pulse with the glow of the light, alive with a gentle sentience harmonious with the deep emptiness of the sky. The black blindness above reminded me of the blankness of my soul – a void could not be seen, but its presence could somehow be felt. The definition of the void left nothing there to be registered, but the glow of the sentient trees around me lent image to the sky above, lent it colour.

If a void was lent definition, was it still a void?

But that was of little matter.

The ex-SOLDIER, Cloud, with his surprising tenderness, lowered the Ancient girl into the cool waters that would be her resting place. The on-looking trees watched. The water rippled as Cloud watched that face fade forever into his memories. I could see it in his eyes as, with a last look, a piece of his heart was slowly torn from him, passing into the depths as he watched.

How long was it since I had felt that pain?

How long was it since I had felt anything at all?

I could remember that, and I knew exactly the chilling horror of that feeling, the slow cold fingers of despair reaching, closing, over the void that had been torn loose. I could remember that same scar, knowing as it closed over, never to heal.

I could remember, and feel those scars, but never know that pain again. Never again.

I feel moisture on my face. Tears. And I had not even known that they were there.

For I too know what it is to love like that; to love something so much, like the Ancient girl had loved the Planet and its people, that you would die for it, no matter what it did or said. Such all-consuming love, such unconditional devotion had taken all from me and given all to… her.

Lucrecia.

Even thinking the name triggers more tears, though I hardly feel them now. Surely they should not be there anyway – surely I cannot cry. Surely crying – sadness, loss, love – all these are human emotions, and because of her – interference? Rescue? – I am no longer worthy of the honorific human.

But I cannot let go of that side of me. Such despair and fear rises in me whenever I think of her I can hardly bear it. Why, oh why, had she agreed to that ridiculous experiment? Why couldn't she see that what that bastard Hojo wanted to create – a human-Cetra hybrid – was wrong? The whole concept of it, even of the very idea, was so inherently impossible, so presumptuously self-righteous – meddling with genes, DNA, all of that nonsense – that the only way that it should ever exist is as a twisted nightmare in the addled mind of a madman. What had it been about that idea that had so attracted her and caused her to risk her life like that?

I remember when I first discovered the existence of this 'Project S', the Jenova Project, and confronting Hojo as to its purpose. He had of course refused to answer, sitting in darkness with that horrific laughter of his echoing through the high-vaulted ceiling of the mansion.

"Is it true that Dr Crescent will be taking part in the experiment?" I asked haltingly, trying to ignore the shudder that ran down my spine at the echoes of Hojo's voice rolling in the corners of the room.

"Yes, it's true."

The voice that responded to my query was most definitely not the one belonging to the black haired scientist lounging at the table before me. Striding from the direction of the open door came a tall, graceful woman with long brown hair tied back in a loose braid with a pale yellow ribbon. She slowed as she reached the table, on the opposite side from me. "Why are you so surprised?"

I shied backward, flustered by her tone of voice and confident bearing. "But… using your own child? For an experiment?" I voiced my concerns with no immediate thoughts of the consequences of my words, at that moment only worried about what she thought she was doing.

"Hah! I don't know what you're implying…" Hojo cut in with a condescending laugh. "Both of us are scientists – we know what we are doing." He leaned his face on one fist and I could feel his malevolent glare from the shadows. "You are the last person to have any word in this! Now, leave us at once… boy."

The words cut through me and I flinched again, but did not move. I had to know…

"But…"

"But what?" Lucrecia interjected angrily, her voice cold. "If you have something to say, say it!"

I looked up at her, eyes pleading. "Are you…" I gathered my courage and took a step forwards. "Are you sure this is what you really want?"

She looked back at me with desperate fury in her deep brown eyes, as if she was willing her anger to cover something else, some other emotion. "Am I sure? Am I sure?!" Her voice grew in volume as she repeated the question, hands unconsciously making agitated gestures in the air as she spoke. "If this only concerns me then yes, I am sure!"

She threw her gaze downwards and suddenly I could no longer look at her. There was a long laden pause,

"Oh…" I muttered. "I just…"

A stab of guilt lances through my chest at the memory and more of those blasted tears trickle down to the base of my neck. I didn't even try to stop her.

The truth in the thought strikes me like a shot to the head, and I barely keep myself from physically reeling. Why…?

And now, thirty years later, her mistake – though I hate to accuse her of anything; after all, I was always the one at fault – still burns and the ripples of her decision surge through this world. For now, the reason that she ended her life, the reason she trapped herself willingly in that horrific prison of gleaming crystal, is here once more. It is evident even as I watch the Ancient girl slipping away through the aquamarine waters below. Another innocent life, one filled with devotion only to one thing – in her case, the defence of the Planet, in Lucrecia's, the proving of her own worthiness to be a scientist – an innocent life, ended by the malevolent presence of that monster.

Sephiroth.

I cannot believe, even though I have seen with my own eyes and witnessed his abominable creation, that such a thing should be part of pure Lucrecia. For something so made of malice and hate, insanity and such horrendous, all-consuming power, to have ever been a part of her – it is more than I can bear, and I close my eyes to try and block out the realisation. From the beginning of this new hopeless venture, from when they had heaved open the lid of the coffin I had somehow ended up in – a fitting resting place, I think, with a touch of twisted irony – from when they had told me that they were trying to save the Planet, to rid it of the dark influence of Sephiroth; from the beginning, I had not been able to fully understand how he could have come from her. But at this moment, having seen the shining blade slip out of the Ancient girl's chest as she prayed – her expression so pure, so peaceful, it reminded me sharply with a stab of loss of Lucrecia once again – I can now allow that horror to crash onto me.

As I sit and feel that my mind is being ripped apart by these realisations, this dismay, this burning loss, one cohesive thought forms from the roiling whole. I will travel with these people who have rescued me. I will aid them in their quest to protect the Planet. I will destroy the monster of Sephiroth, her – son.

And then, maybe, I can finally rest in peace.