A/N: Hello everybody, how are you doing? I hope you're doing very well! I'm doing alright, I guess... Doing well enough that I dreamed of this story out of nowhere. Honestly, I'm not a Snow person because, in all due respect, I think he's a pompous moron. But seeing the change in him featured in LRXIII, I can't help but wonder; what happened to Snow? He's no longer the goofy, light hearted hero we came to love or hate. It's like, he turned into a different person altogether. With that being said, this dream reflects the change in Snow Villiers.
I personally think it's something people should be aware of; the changes in a person. For those who've lost everything they fought for, the only 'freedom' is ending one's life. But due to fate, subjecting oneself to death isn't the answer. Instead, they continue living, sometimes, as an empty shell.
This is basically my interpretation of Snow.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: He was once a friend, fiancé and a hero. Snow failed in protecting the one thing he cherished most: Serah. Lost in a sea of grief and denial, the hero watches over the residents of Yusnaan in despair and waiting for the day death calls out to him; to be reunited with his beloved. Yet, he awaits the day to extract revenge on the one person he deemed responsible for his beloved's demise: Lightning.
A Failed Hero
Scores of women scattered around his feet, inhaling the toxic yet addictive smoke. Smiles were knitted on their faces with their eyes glazed over; yes, this was paradise. The room was dimly lit with the aid of broken neon lights as words hung dangerously on half torn wires. The words dangled motionlessly above its wasted residents splurging on intoxicating substances. Men and women were huddled in small pockets of the room with eyes completely glazed over as if their minds were no longer there. Other residents chose to laugh, spotting figures dancing in the smoke. Others chose to cry, knowing full well of what the world was going through; the world was ending, rotting away into a sea of Chaos.
Their hero watched his residents splurge on things that didn't exist. Yes. This was how people here, in Yusnaan chose to spend the end of their days. Mindlessly wasting away on the inside while their bodies were subjected to physical decay.
"...Hero." One of the woman sang trying to down another bottle of wine but instead, spilled the expensive liquid onto her golden gown. "Will you save us all?"
The man in the leather chair merely nodded as if his nod was enough to give her the answer she was looking for: Hope. She chuckled and returned to downing the remaining bottle, oblivious to the pool of wine beneath her. Other residents rolled around on the marbled floor stained with bottles, cigarette buds and even candy. The world was ending. The best way to spend the remaining days was to be lost in a sea of pleasure, lust and things that didn't matter.
The man had enough; pushing out of the leather chair, he carefully tread over sleeping bodies moving into the direction of a heavily guarded room. The guards were tense as their leader approached. Saluting him, the door hissed opened. The man entered inside and instructed he was to not be disturbed.
Entering the eerily lit room, monitors flashed blue and white, recording Yusnaan's every movement. On one screen, a mother and child walked down the streets hand in hand. Another screen displayed a couple standing in front of the Cactuar statue counting the lights on it. It was the same everyday. The residents of Yusnaan had no conception of time except for the day the world was scheduled to end. The people chose to live life to the fullest regardless of the world's demise. Their selfish needs screamed out to be satisfied for the remaining days. The same could be said too, for Snow Villiers.
Snow was tired, exhausted, fatigued—all were the same to him. Falling into a chair with a small thud, the man leaned forward and bridged his fingers together, watching the residents play out their pleasures. His eyes were locked on the screen but his mind was miles away. He could only think of one thing: Serah. The woman he loved so much was dead.
"Serah..." Snow voiced quietly. The silence in the room returned to be filled with static cracks from the monitors. "Serah..."
Serah had departed on a life changing adventure; becoming a l'Cie, turning into crystal, waking up to once again save the world. The price to pay? Death. Snow looked over to his left arm where the l'Cie mark burned three times. Three times. He was cursed into being a l'Cie three times. Why? Was he that important the gods kept him around only to be used and tossed aside like trash? Why didn't he just give up and transform into a grotesque Cie'th and wait for someone to release him from his pain? Why?
"I'm just a pawn," The man muttered under his breath. "I'm a pawn of the gods."
It was unlike him to reflect back on things that had been done. Nobody could return to the past now that the Time Gates were sealed and in some cases, destroyed. There was no turning back. Going forward was the only option he had. Many deemed Snow to be fool back in the day, doing everything he could to make Serah's wishes come true; give her a family and live with her until both pass away in their sleep. He believed he could accomplish this yet, he didn't. Serah was dead. He failed to protect her. What was there to live for? What was the purpose of living when your beloved one was dead? No longer would he be able to hear her melodic laughter or experience her tears of joy from her firstborn. There were times he'd roll up his sleeve with eyes fixed upon the three inch long needle filled with Tonberry Serum. The lime-green liquid was enticing, aimed to stain his long dead veins. It was tempting to momentarily escape reality and be subjected to hallucinations and things, again, that never existed. But no. Snow was not the type of person who would taint himself with narcotics just for the sake of release.
Snow's fingers broke the bridge and he soon found himself curling his fingers on the desk.
"Revenge."
Upon speaking the dreaded word, a figure walked into the frame of one of the flickering screens. Boasting a new red, black and white garment blessed by the gods, the woman tread quietly through the city hoping to be unnoticed by the common folk. Each step she took was under strict surveillance by Snow.
"Lightning."
The woman in the frame was his supposed sister-in-law and friend. Snow always had issues with Lightning—no, Lightning always had issues with Snow until their journey to save Cocoon together dissolved her distaste of him. Lightning was a strong woman, he admitted. Strong enough to be chosen by the goddess, Etro to defend the goddess from the timeline destroyer, Caius. Curling his fingers, Snow remembered Lightning speaking to him through his dream. She sent him on a wild goose chase to stop the progress of the decaying crystal pillar. Snow obeyed Lightning because dreaming within the crystal pillar was Fang and Vanille, his friends.
"Friends." Snow spoke, to no one. "Why do friends send the other to die?"
Snow wanted to blame Fang and Vanille for everything that happened, Vanille especially. The duo was tasked to bring forth the destruction of Cocoon once and for all but Vanille, the happy-go-lucky liar chose to abandon her Focus, hoping she would turn into Cie'th and be destroyed. Instead, no, Serah was branded a l'Cie thus, it was the beginning of his journey to save her-to save Cocoon-
"To save a damned future,"
Snow blamed everybody for the demise of his beloved. He was not the one to blame, no. He set out on a journey to make things right; to fix things Lightning had broken. Yet, nobody could take the blame more than Lightning, the woman responsible for this entire mess. His eyes coldly watched the woman pass a group of card players whom ecstatically rejoiced upon winning with a Royal Flush. She remained unphased, unresponsive and continued to move.
"Damn you, Lightning. Why is everything about you?"
Everything was about Lightning. Everything. What was so special about Lightning that she was now tasked on saving the world while he was branded a l'Cie again, for the third time. Snow dipped his head forward with eyes reluctantly moving to his brand. Three times his brand burned on his skin. Three times he was reminded of his undying servitude and out of the three, he had never once thought of abandoning his Focus and plainly giving up. He was not a coward; he was a hero.
"I'm a hero," Snow announced, abruptly standing up and knocking over the chair. "I am Snow Villiers, leader of Yuscaan and bringer of hope to those who are lost. I can save these people."
Snow wasn't lying; he can save them by simply offering them materialistic goods and a strong sense of security. Since arriving in Yusnaan, Snow helped the common people to live each day to the fullest, encouraging the fact they live only once. His words and actions brought hope to the people of the city which soon labeled him a hero. He was the one who fished out men and women from utter despair. He was their savior, in an ironic sense. Snow was determined to save these people even if Lightning was tending to destroy it, so to speak. Lightning was a 'Liberator of Souls'; the woman was tasked to guide the new souls into a New Cocoon. No.
Shaking his head madly, everything didn't have to be depended on Lightning. He was more than capable of saving people. Prior his election as Yusnaan's leader, Snow spent his days rebuilding homes or terminating monsters by encouraging the people to fight. The memories reminded him of the days of NORA. The people's champion he was.
The sound of the radio cracked to life followed by the sound of a man's voice.
"Boss?" The man spoke. "She's here."
Turning the radio knob, Snow lifted a microphone and replied, "I know."
"What do we do? Should we apprehend her?"
"No, stand down," Snow instructed. His cold eyes locked onto Lightning's form darting in and out of alleys. "I'll handle her myself."
He spotted Lightning drawing out her sword upon spotting a bipedal monster called Anubis. Calculatingly, Lightning took a step back as the monster closed in. As expected, her eyes showed no fear and took on the monster head on. Snow observed the battle noting Lightning's maneuvers and possible weak points. None. It was not before long the battle was concluded; the beast lay motionless in its own pool of blood. The victor, Lightning removed her blade from its back and continued to walk directly toward Snow's Fortune Mansion.
The camera zoomed into Lightning's eyes, the eyes of a warrior who witnessed nothing but death. Lightning stood motionlessly before tilting her head upwards. Her gaze looked deep into the camera lens and perhaps, looking directly at Snow. Not even a word was spoken from the warrior. Raising her left hand, Snow watched red and orange flames flicker at Lightning's fingers, itching to be discharged.
"Snow Villiers," Lightning said in a monotone voice. "I know you're here,"
Blasting the security camera with a fire spell, the image on the screen fizzled into erratic lines and static sounds.
"I'm coming for you,"
Then her voice was no longer heard. Snow accepted Lightning's challenge. Turning around, Snow headed toward a metallic door and unlocked it; he was going to face Lightning head on. He knew why the Liberator had come. Perhaps, his time was up.
Forcing the metal door to open, a rusted sound echoed for the last l'Cie echoing an unceremonious battle cry. Checking his gloves, the hero made his way down the steps to face the Liberator. Listening to his own footsteps walking towards a bloodstained death meant nothing to Snow. In fact, it could be something he was looking forward all this time: Release. If he could not extract revenge on Lightning, he might as well have Lightning kill him. His story would come to an end and once and for all, he could be with Serah.
Reaching the intricately carved door, Snow took in one last breath to meet his executioner. Tilting his head back, Snow exhaled.
"She's going to kill me,"
Moving his hand to the door knob, Snow gently turned the rusted knob to head out to one final confrontation. Snow was going to bring the fight to Lightning. He was going to give her everything he had to prove he had the right to live on and protect what was left of the decaying world. If all else fails, the hero was ready to accept defeat and death. There were no more regrets; this was it. He fought like a hero and perhaps, died as Yusnaan's champion or a coward in the eyes of others. He didn't care. He was going to be reunited with Serah and live happily ever after in the land of the dead.
This was his last wish. A wish of a man who had lost it all for the sake of once again reuniting with the woman he loved so much. For the sake of being beside Serah, his beloved.
