A/N: Alright, this has been prolonged for a while. I kind of left it sitting when I got a few other ideas and kind of just let it stay unfinished… and kind of not even started. But anyway, Sephiroth is kind of alone and unloved, and Zack is well… Zack. I promised myself I would update a fic before I posted this new one. But I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry! But please, read and review it! Before you yell at me, at least do that!
Prologue - Distant Wars
The young SOLDIER first lied upon the small white bed, staring up at the plain, white ceiling as the open window blew in wisps of Midgar air. His name was Zachary Knightblade, and he was a four-star Lieutenant Colonel in the ShinRa Army. Ever since he had left Gongaga and joined the army, he had worked hard in order to insure that his parents received enough money to continue on as they were and keep paying the medical bills. He had also been trying to brighten the world of Midgar, and the lord above know that's a full time job.
Zack sighed sullenly, sitting up and running a hand through his short spiky black hair. He looked about the small room he was about to leave. There wasn't much to it, a small dresser to the right, the bed pushed up to the wall with windows, overlooking the crowded streets of Midgar below, an entrance to the bathroom on the left, and a door leading to the hallway in between the dresser and bathroom. Gloomily, he let his sight rest upon the small bag he had thrown in the corner between the two doorways.
It sat there, untouched, it's camouflage design sticking out like a green thumb in a field of pink against the white blandness of the walls and floor. The bag itself didn't have anything in it, just a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, some extra materia that one of his buddies had given him- just in case, and a stationary kit so he could write home. Rather lazily, he placed his hand upon the dresser's top and pulled himself up. Zack stretched his back a little and opened the top drawer of the dresser. Inside were about a million of pieces of paper, ranging from a letter from his parents had written him last week to a warning from one of his sergeants from three years ago. He let out a sigh and began to push through the papers.
"Now… where did I put that…?" he muttered, lifting up a paper and looking beneath it. "Is this it?" he turned the paper over in his hand, and began to read the first few sentences. "'Dear Zachary Knightblade, We are proud to have you as an official colonel of the ShinRa Army and-'…" Quirking a black eyebrow, turned the paper over again. "Is this it? It seems official enough… I guess…" he trailed off, turning it back over.
The man sighed again, sitting down on the bed with a thump, still holding the paper with one hand. Carefully, he read the text. He raised his thin eyebrows in acceptance, he had indeed found it. Zack stood up again, and began to fold the piece of paper into a small square. He then stuffed the paper into his back pocket and walked the two whole steps over to the corner beside the dresser. There, lay the Buster Sword. There were many different versions of the Buster Sword, but he had gotten this one from his uncle on his twelfth birthday. The hilt was worn and pieces of cloth were tied upon it tightly. The blade itself was cracked and it only had two materia slots, but nothing was better that that. In Zack's opinion, if you want to be a magician: trade in your sword for a staff; and if you want to be a warrior trade your staff in for a sword. Someone shouldn't be weighted down with materia if the have enough strength on their own. Zack quickly pulled out a small wristwatch from his packet and glanced at the time, then forced it, with much unneeded force, back into his pocket. He would have to hurry to catch the helicopter. He grabbed the hilt of his sword, then swung it onto his shoulder, (what did his mother say about that? Oh, right, he'd dislocate his shoulder sooner or later) and reached down and grabbed his small bag with his free hand. With a frustrated sigh, he dropped the bag and turned around and opened the middle drawer on the dresser, where a small orange phone sat, and picked up the phone, while turning around and closing the drawer with a booted foot. Grumbling, he pushed the phone into his pocket took the Buster Sword off his shoulder and skillfully slid it into the straps upon his back. Picking the bag back up, he opened the door and walked out.
Zack walked quickly through the plain white hallways. He had always thought it was strange that only the areas where the soldiers resided were so tasteless and bland. Shrugging, his lifted the bag behind his shoulder and yawned. He knew he should be a little more focused today, since he was going out onto the frontlines and such. Besides, he was going to meet one of the Turks today, not to mention the general! He smiled, he would get to see the general everyday he was on the frontlines, and who knows when he'd ever get to see a Turk face to face again. His smile grew wider as he reached the doorway to the helicopter pad. After only three short years, he was going to leave Midgar behind, heading out toward the frontlines all the way in Wutai! Sure, he was going to miss the dank scenery, smoggy air, and especially the ShinRa building looming over Midgar. Midgar wasn't as bad as his parents had made it sound, nor was it as good as his uncle claimed it was, but one grew used to the polluted air and people quickly. But now he was going to Wutai, and he didn't have any idea of how long he would be stationed there…
Shaking his head, he began to walk toward the door. He would make the best of things, like he always did. Smiling, he pushed open the door. No matter what waited for him outside, he would greet it with open arms. Just like he always did.
-OoOoOoOoO-
The pale man sat staring at the notice of General Terna's death within his gloved hand. This notice, also proclaimed that he, Sephiroth, was now the official commanding officer and general of the ShinRa Army. He had to give those Wutains credit though, for attacking those drunken excuses for men, and somehow catching the general off-guard. Rubbing his eyes, he pushed himself off of the bed and placed the notice where he previously sat.
Gloomily, he cast his eyes about the tent. There were two cots and two desks, one for each commanding officer. His bed was closest to the tent flap, with his desk pushed up against his bed. The other bed was up against the tent wall farthest from the entrance, with the desk pushed near enough to be an end table. The other side was devoid of life, the papers had all been moved to his own desk and the cot was neatly made and hadn't the slightest crinkle upon it. Sighing, he grabbed his jacket off of his chair, and shrugged into it. He took the small belt from the desk and fit it over his jacket and ShinRa belt. Then he grabbed the first of the shoulder plates, lifting his arm and attaching it to the small loop on his jacket located in the armpit, he did the same with the second. He ran a hand through his silvery locks, and bent down to pick up his sword, which would surely cause the tent to tip if he placed it against the wall, and hooked the decorated hilt upon his belt.
Taking a deep breath, he walked out of the tent. The dirt crunched softly beneath his feet as he glanced about. They were stationed upon the edge of a thick woods near Wutai, and large evergreen trees were everywhere. Ever since he was small, Sephiroth had always despised nature, and preferred to be locked away in a steel cage than be around it. He had leaned that nature had its advantages, though, such as being a good cover and having a large source of easy to gather food if supplies ran low. All in all, he would prefer to battle in a city like Midgar rather than a place like Wutai. But then again, maybe if he had been born and raised somewhere other than Midgar and not surrounded by lab testing equipment almost daily, he might think it differently. The commanding tent was past a small grove of trees from the main camp. Carefully, the newly made general walked past the trees and into the encampment. In the center, there was a small pit for fires, though it was stressed not to be used unless the smoke could be contained, and around it were forty tents of the front-line soldiers, though only about eighty of the men had survived the surprise attack, behind the left side of the tents were the showers and other toiletries, and to the right was the kitchen. Most of the men, currently, were sitting on the ground around the fire pit, talking to one another.
Of course, none of the men really like Sephiroth to begin with. They had all heard the stories of him being Hojo's favorite experiment and even those horrid rumors about him being Hojo's son. He himself had bright, green, glowing eyes with cat eye pupils, mid-back length silver hair with two large bangs that he could never straighten out, and he wore black leather with a trench coat (normally he'd leave the front of the coat unbuttoned and let the two belts criss-crossing his chest show), and his sword was about seven feet long.
Silently, he walked around the men, his men, and looked to the rising sun. He would have to get to the designated landing sight soon, or else some extremely needed soldiers would be left walking in circles in the middle of nowhere - maybe even walking into Wutai itself! Well, he could only hope that his second in command wouldn't be some dimwit like all the other officers that were currently stationed here.
Sephiroth cleared his throat and waited patiently as all of the soldiers turned their attention to him. He barked out orders quickly, telling them to prepare for an arrival of fifty fresh soldiers and ordering ten men to follow him to the landing sight and make sure the helicopter wasn't shot out of the sky.
As he walked ahead of the ten men (whom were quietly telling each other that they were glad that new men were coming and wishing General Terna was still alive), Sephiroth felt a twinge of happiness. Maybe this general thing wasn't as horrible or hard as it looked. Actually, it was, well, kind of fun. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face and he continued to walk along. As long as he could keep them under control, everything would be fine.
A/N: If you liked it, can you blame me for wanting to write it? And if you hated it, you made me sad. Please review, and yes, I know Terna sounds like Turnip, but be quiet. Wait- I mean. Ugh, you know what I mean. You read, then review. It's a very simple process, ne? Yes, yes, it is! There we go! You read it, now you can review too! Shocking, isn't it. :nods: