The Shattered Cocoon.

Summary: Dreams and hope shatter like glass on the hard massif of reality, their remains falling into the cracks. Years ago, a young woman made a hard choice to die so others could live with hope in their hearts. But the ugliness that hides in hope's shadow rears its head, fear and hatred driving the world to war. In fantasy, life would be peaceful. In reality, does anyone deserve to live? [FF-XIII/AU]

Link One: Fantasy.

Chapter One: Fate.

Promises.

Love.

Wishes.

Prayers.

Hope.

These things we would love to believe existed. But we know more than anything that they don't. We know that there is no almighty God listening to our mundane prayers, no being gifting us hope, no angels granting our wishes. We know.

And yet, these are our favorite terms.

We crave someone to hold hands with, to love more than anything in this world. To die for.

It's ridiculously illogical.

Why would you die for someone when you have no guarantee that they will do the same?

It makes no sense.

One young woman made no sense, dying for the world and people she "loved." She became stone, holding a corrupt world aloft.

And a young man was left, gazing at her brilliance with tears in his eyes as he swore to save her. He became stone in his own way, fighting the corrupt world to save his beloved.

(Cocoon, 9 AF, Eden)

The blowhards weren't listening, clucking like old hens and grandmothers. They were overpaid, overfed and lacked any common sense.

The perfect room of politicians.

Hope damned every one of them to Oblivion, all the while maintaining his winning smile.

"The pillar is just a temporary crutch for the human race," one particular fat, trembling jowled man was saying through his own saliva. "Now that we understand the threat, we can re-levitate Cocoon."

Hope shot him a look, filled with outer confusion but inner annoyance. What did any of these idiots know about science or how to re-levitate Cocoon? It had only been nine years, even the best minds didn't know how to lift about ten thousand long tons in the air and keep it there; what could they do about a small planet?

He smiled with ice in his grin, "And how are we going to do that, Commissar Grant?" he asked condescendingly. "Magic?"

He wasn't opposed to magic, but the way he said it was to get them to understand how ridiculous the notion was.

Grant obviously got it, his jowls turning red in embarrassment.

"Obviously, Director," he hissed icily, "We can control the Fal'Cie now that the bad egg Orphan is gone."

Hope wanted to laugh out loud, didn't they get it? Orphan wasn't a "bad egg". They couldn't control the Fal'Cie. No one could.

"Yes, we can," another fat cat agreed mindlessly. "The pillar is a Pulsian curse. We need to reclaim our original quality of life." The others agreed with him.

Hope felt his left fingernails digging into his palm as he balled his hand into a fist behind his back. The Pulsian curse they spoke of was his friend. Vanille. The woman he...

He wanted to kill them.

Instead, he locked his face into a mask of impassiveness, his eyes frozen. "The pillar is a gift from a girl who didn't even need to lift a finger to save us. She wouldn't have been judged if she had left us all to die," he said tonelessly. "She isn't a curse or a burden; she gifted us with the opportunity to —"

Grant cut him off, "Director, your judgement must be clouded by your recent... Grief," Hope bit down on his tongue. "And your involvement. Do you really have any new insight that isn't overshadowed by your agenda?"

Hope started to reply when his small phone began to beep in his pocket. Not now...

The councilors took that as a sign of his disinterest.

Grant smiled triumphantly. "And with that, we will conclude this meeting."

"But I—"

"Good day, Director."

()-(-)-()-(-)-()

"Those bastards!" Hope punched the dashboard, injuring his fist more than anything.

His driver, Avalon Cless, raised her eyebrow but didn't look away from the road.

"Did that make you feel better, Director?" she asked sarcastically, flicking the blue half of her hair out of her face with a finger.

He sighed and buried himself into the seat, "No, not at all. But did you hear them..." he groaned again. "I can't stand them."

"No one can and I'm surprised you don't let me slit their throats while they're asleep. I'd do it gladly, sir," she flashed him a look. They both laughed.

"That would be uncanny," Hope said, opening his phone and reading whatever had interrupted the meeting before. It was a message from his old friend and fellow ex l'Cie, Captain Lightning Farron.

(Update: The bio-engineered animals have taken over most of the Gapra Whitewoods. We've managed to seal a few gateways, but they're getting into cities now. Already, a few squadrons in Palumpolum have been in skirmishes with them. Funny thing, it looks like some of the gates have been sabotaged so we can't lock them back. Wonder who could have done that?)

Hope grumbled, catching the attention of Avalon again. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, something she had been trained to do in... Kindergarten.

"Something wrong, Director?" she asked, "You seem to be distressed."

"I am," Hope admitted, "PSICOM is sabotaging the gateways in Gapra. We can't seal in the mutts they have there."

"Huh," Avalon made a knowing sound, drawing Hope's suspicion.

"What?"

She raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, cut the crap," Hope said exasperatedly, "You know something about this?"

Avalon looked disgusted at his accusations, her aristocratic face wrinkling, "Nothing direct, sir. But I have a few ideas and they aren't good."

"Okay, what is the idea?"

Avalon stopped the car, putting it in park and swiveled in her seat until she faced him. "Since you and the newly formed Academy are supposedly in charge of keeping these beasts under control, and no one ever knew that PSICOM was bio-engineering, people can paint you as the villain," she flicked the blond side of her head, the left, before continuing, "It wouldn't be that hard either, you have a sucky resumé. 'Hope Estheim: former Pulse l'Cie, is he still tainted by the dreaded lower world?' And not to mention Vanille. She's single handily responsible for Cocoon's current state. The public wouldn't put it past you to be responsible for the beasts rampaging."

"L'Cie can't control animals!" Hope protested, reminded of many of a time he had nearly been eaten or maimed. "And we release them onto Pulse, we don't keep them anywhere!"

"I know that, sir," Avalon replied, driving again. "But honestly, for every person that accepted us and your friends, ten hated our guts. People are like fat sheep more than humans nowadays. They've lost all our ingrained senses, our ability to survive in the wild, which we have to do if we don't want to rot on Cocoon."

Hope sighed again, a debilitating headache coming on.

"Think about Eden nine years ago," Avalon was saying, "Hundreds died because they didn't believe that they were in danger; they thought it was just an elaborate show. It wasn't until the Cavalry and Guard started fighting that they actually started running and when they did, they were less than animals. Did you ever see the aftermath?"

Hope shook his head.

"It was like Armageddon," Avalon said curtly, her face frozen into a grimace. "I was part of the second evacuation. I saw Bresha and Gullis City. They were fighting over the last edible scraps, last drinks of water. It smelled of death and pestilence." She smiled bitterly. "But the people in Eden didn't want to be rescued by an Inhuman, so I left."

Hope's eyes traveled unbidden to the pointed feline ears on Avalon's head, replacing the need for human. On the sides of her head was simply smooth skin, hidden by her bicolored hair.

Hope frowned. Inhuman, a derogatory term used for Avalon's kind. It wasn't even her fault, or her parents, she was born in a tube. In PSICOM's Kindergarten. They were designed to be weapons, soulless beings that pulled the trigger when told to.

Ironically, when given the chance, they turned on their creators, a lot more soulful than originally believed.

Hope hated such terms. The Faunus, as they preferred to be called, had DNA almost identical to humans, give or take normal genetic factors. In science, they were human; in public eye, the one fed information by PSICOM, they were savage monstrosities, half beast.

Avalon noticed his look and sighed, "Director, honestly. I'm used to it. Until we have a chance to tell our stories, we'll be fifth-class citizens."

Hope knew that Avalon didn't like talking about her experiences in Kindergarten and honestly, would any Faunus? No one could blame them.

And possibly, Avalon felt a teeny bit guilty about Hope catching so much flak for hiring Faunuses to work in the Academy.

Hope caught onto these feelings and said, "I don't care about what people say about me, I didn't become Director so I could be popular."

Avalon smiled gently, a tiny and rare thing, "You are really obsessed with everyone in Cocoon hating you,"

Hope chuckled, "People don't hate me...right?" he looked like such a cute and confused puppy that Avalon laughed.

"Never look up your insta-poll results, Director."

Hope settled into his seat, deeply discouraged as he brooded.

()-(-)-()-(-)-()

(Gran Pulse, 9 AF, Oerba)

Captain Oerba Yun Fang's long black waves fell into her tanned face as she bent down and touched the sand beneath her feet. Crystal shards. Stone fragments.

Humans long since turned to sand.

She exhaled deeply, letting it blow through her fingers. Soon, she would be the last person allowed to tread here without special clearances.

As she stood up again, her back tingled in pain for a moment. God, 30 sucked. This was one of those moments she wished she had become crystal with Vanille. Her age would have stagnated at 21.

But she didn't and she aged, gracefully, she would like to add.

Her team waited by the ship, awkwardly shuffling as they waited for her to finish her rapture. Their captain was a very private person when it came to her emotions, sharing them only with her "family" of sorts.

Fang cleared her throat and they snapped to attention, snuffing out the game of tic-tac-toe they had drawn in the sand.

"Hey," Fang said, flicking her hair out of her face. "We got to get going if we want to get back before it gets dark."

They exchanged glances. "U - Uh..." One ventured tentatively, "You're done already, ma'am?"

She gazed at him, her peridot eyes searching his soul, "What? What do you want? Me to cry about times long since gone?" she said, slight laughter in her voice. Oh, she had cried before, but the time for that was long over.

They shook their heads in hurried disagreement. "No! Of course not, ma'am! Just —"

Fang boarded the ramp, saying, "I know, this place is my home, it always will be. But I have things to do and they aren't here," she beckoned them to follow.

()-(-)-()-(-)-()

(Cocoon, Gapra Whitewoods.)

"And here comes another," Lightning groaned in exhaustion before shooting again, taking down the beast before it could tear off any limbs. "Can somebody lock those gates, please?!" she shouted at her team, who were trying to fix the busted controls.

"I'm trying!" the fussy mechanic snapped, "What you want to fix a gate while you're being charged?"

She fixed her with the most hostile glare possible. She filched and added meekly, "Captain..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought you said," Lightning muttered, keeping her blade at her side as she watched the gates.

This was annoying. They had been at this for about six hours, plugging holes and shooting down the mutts that they couldn't get into cages, you know, the ones they had ran out of about two hours in?

"Can we speed this up?!" Lightning shouted to the blockade made up of her soldiers. "I'm not the only one tired of cleaning up PSICOM's messes, am I?"

They chorused their agreement.

Lightning was a born and bred soldier and she knew how to speak to soldiers. She knew they were getting exhausted, but this was the last gate they had to seal.

But, then again, she had said that before. Those PSICOM dicks kept opening them up and leaving them open when they ransacked their old labs.

The lights came on, the doors slammed shut and the locks engaged with a hiss, sealing the beasts in for now.

They cheered, exhausted and glad.

Lightning glared at the gateway, sliding her gunblade back into its sheath on her backside. Why wouldn't PSICOM seal the gateway back? Were they trying to discredit Hope and the Academy? Discredit her and her men?

No, no way in Valhalla. She would have to talk with Hope back in Academia later tonight.

()-(-)-()-(-)-()

(Gran Pulse, Academia.)

He had been sitting in his office for five seconds when Lightning burst in, despite the pleas from his receptionist to please wait, her blue and white tailed coat billowing behind her.

Hope saw the look on her face and smiled sheepishly, "H - Hey, Light... What's up?"

She leaned over his desk with every intention of throttling him. "Director, why am I being kept out of the loop?" she asked curtly, meeting his teal eyes with her icy blues.

Hope blinked in genuine confusion.

"What?"

The time for titles was over.

"Hope," Lightning said, her voice frozen, "Why are we stuck cleaning up PSICOM's messes and excavating ruins? You don't know what people on Cocoon say about us, about war. They say that PSICOM is planning to reactive the Fal'Cie."

Hope wasn't shocked, the way the Commissars were talking this afternoon they sounded ready to blow up Pulse and everyone on it if it meant that they could go back to the way life used to be.

"I know, Light and I —"

"Wait, you know?" Lightning leaned even closer to him, her face taking on even more intensity. "Hope, you mean I've been stuck playing Mouse Trap with behemoths for two months and you knew that PSICOM is prepping for a war? Why was I kept out of this loop?!"

"I'd love to know that, too," Fang said from the doorway, her arms crossed. "Why was I on research detail and not here, preparing for war? God, I've spent two months with nerds! All they talked about was flora and fauna and chromosomes. It was so boring."

Hope frowned. "That's almost all what I talk about."

"I know, you're boring, work on it," Fang said, lounging in a chair by his desk with her feet up. "But we have a problem, Hope."

"Can it wait?" Hope and Lightning said in different tones, his questioning and hers hostile.

Fang sat up, her face serious. "No, it can't. Hope, this goes beyond war and anything we think is important now."

Hope and Lightning exchanged looks. Fang was almost never serious.

Lightning sat down next to the woman and told her to continue.

Fang sighed, running a hand through her long black hair. "It's been nine years since Vanille..." she went silent for a moment, her eyes glazing over in sadness. "Anyway, it's not like crystal lasts forever. Vanille is no exception. Cocoon's stable for now, but when it comes down, what happens to everyone on Pulse? Everyone on Cocoon? The same thing that we tried to stop. And what about Vanille? She'll die. Do we have a plan for that?"

Hope's face contorted into a mask of thoughtfulness, his right hand on his chin. Fang had brought up his every thought for the past nine years. And in those years, he still hadn't caught his elusive answer.

"We..." he sighed in defeat. "We don't. I've been thinking about it for years but I still don't know."

Fang knew that Hope hated not having the answer to every problem. Especially when Vanille was involved.

Nine years ago, Vanille had given up everything to become Cocoon's crystalline crutch. She didn't even say anything to Fang, she just smiled as she let her hands go, slipping into the light.

Fang had been depressed about it, but Hope had been destroyed. That was when she first realized that he had been attracted to Vanille. But she had just wrote it off as attraction, it would fade as he grew into a man.

It grew into love, he had admitted it to her at nineteen.

She reached out and squeezed his arm reassuringly, "Hope, this is a problem that we need a lot of people working on."

"It's a nice thought," Lightning said, "But if PSICOM decides to go to war, we'll all be dead long before anything comes to fruition."

Hope nodded and Fang removed her hand from his arm. He looked to the ceiling, saying, "Maybe I can get those blowhards in Eden to listen and we can fight together."

They all laughed at the notion.

When she had recovered, Fang said, "Yeah, and we should get the goddess to stop ending our lives. Great thoughts, Hope."

"Okay, it's stupid, but a nice thought," Hope said, "But what can we do? We can't remove Vanille from her crystal, the pillar will fall. It's going to fall anyway and maybe not now but in a few hundred years. We're all going to be dead by then."

The door burst open and Avalon stood there, gasping for air as she tried to speak.

"Will everyone stop ignoring me?!" The receptionist wailed.

"D - Director!" Avalon gasped as Lightning approached her. "Sir, it's bad. The - The council voted."

Hope eyed her with confusion. "Voted on what?"

Fang felt something buzzing in her pocket and whipped out her phone, reading with increasing disgust on her face. "What the...?"

"What's going on?" Hope asked, standing up so he could read her screen. "Can I know what's —"

No. No way.

Lightning read the message, gaping in shock. "Th - They can't do this..." she said.

"..." Hope bit his lip. "C - Can I hear that?" he asked Fang and she handed him her device, her face full of disgust and rage.

("Citizens of Cocoon, we are facing a new threat in recent days.") Grant, it was Grant. ("By a man we thought could protect us! But once a menace, always a menace! The l'Cie and the Inhumans are a danger to our world and so are the Defectors! They frolic on Pulse and unleash beasts of prey on our homes, our cities! Our children! Ungodly beasts, and their deity is the Demon of Stone!")

Demon of Stone...? Wait, they couldn't be talking about Vanille. They couldn't be. She was a heroine. She saved more lives in one sweep than anyone would ever be worth.

("But now, we will fight back! We will no longer associate with the Defectors! They have chosen hell, let them rot! We will reclaim our way of life, we will fly once again!")

The Fal'Cie...

()-(-)-()-(-)-()

(Gran Pulse, 4 AF, The Yaschas Massif)

He wasn't supposed to be here, far from civilization, alone and brooding into his shoes.

Especially not on his birthday.

But his cheeks were soft red, his eyes paralleling the shade and wet. He was crying, and had been for about an hour.

From behind, Fang yawned, "Hope, it's your nineteenth birthday, what are you doing here?"

Hope flinched almost guiltily and hurriedly wiped away the trail that sadness had left on his face. He sniffed and cleared his throat, much to Fang's amusement.

"U - Uh, n - nothing, ju - just watching the sky...?" Wow, she didn't think it was possible, but he lied worse than Vanille.

She rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh, so the sky makes you sad?" she asked rhetorically. "That's a bummer. Considering that it's everywhere."

Hope knew his eyes were still red, so he kept them on his shoes, knowing that she wasn't going to stop badgering him.

"...Hope, I'm right here," Fang sighed, sitting beside him and stretching her joints. "Talk to me."

Hope felt the dirt between his fingers, doodling, "This is where I told her I liked her smile..." he whispered, drawing a circle. "I told her that - that it made me happy. And then I joked about it. I wonder if she ever thought I was serious."

Wait, what? When did that ever happen? Where was Fang when this happened?

"I just... I didn't know that that was what I was feeling," Hope drew a few curls around the circle.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Fang asked, gazing at him in confusion.

Hope blushed, "N - Never mind..." he stuttered embarrassedly.

Fang got it, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She grinned deviously, "Oh, you love her, don't you?" she accused, poking his chest.

Hope nodded slowly, the blood rushing to his face. "Y - Yeah. I do. I think I have for a while," he reacted to what he had drawn in the dirt. "Geez, I've got it bad."

Fang laughed at his discomfort and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Hope, it's not that embarrassing. I think it's nice that you still care about Vanille, still love her after all these years," she turned to face the sky, her whole body weighted with sadness. "I sorta misjudged you Hope," she admitted with slight guilt, "I always put it off as just a crush, something that... Would just fade as you aged. I thought you would go off with those other girls."

Hope raised his head, his face wrinkled in curiosity, "What girls? What are you talking about?"

Fang gaped at him with blatant awe written all over her face. "W - Wait, what? You've never even noticed all the girls around you at school? At the Academy?" Hope shook his head. "Okay, are you blind? What is wrong with you?"

Hope shrugged, he had honestly never noticed any girls.

Fang exhaled rapidly. "Wow, you are a focused man, aren't you?" she said, brushing a hair out of his face. "That is spectacular."

She admired him out of the corner of her eye, his teal eyes and platinum hair set against pale skin that didn't change no matter how long he spent in the sun, which wasn't much. He was a handsome young man and it was hard to see why he wouldn't flaunt his beauty, but easy to see why so many girls, and a few boys, adored him.

She didn't know if Vanille did, but she knew that Vanille did care for the b — man, she had to keep reminding herself that Hope wasn't a boy anymore.

Hope noticed her stare and blushed, "W - What? What is it?"

Fang stood up and said, "Nothing, just..." she bit her lip, "When Vanille comes out of it, treat her well or I'll bash your head open with a rock and toss your body off of this damn cliff."

And with that pleasant thought, she left the birthday boy to his own.

()-(-)-()-(-)-()

(Cocoon, 9 AF, Eden)

"You can't do this!" Hope exploded as the Guard Templars forced him and Avalon to the ground, guns pointed to their heads. "You can't just tear thousands of citizens away from their families! Most in the Academy —"

Commi — Primarch Grant smiled down at the two on their knees. "But Director, you have no more say in this. We, the denizens of Cocoon, have voted on this matter. After all, we can't trust you anymore."

Hope glared hatred at this man. Trust? PSICOM was in charge of trust, Hope was in charge of keeping things safe.

"Are you kidding me?!" Avalon yelled as a Guard member stripped her of her long jacket, exposing the short clothing beneath. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now, you son of a bitch."

"It speaks!" Grant teased and Avalon gave a growl of rage. "Wonderful, Director; in your journey to slaughter the citizens of Cocoon, you taught a dog to speak."

Her muscles rippled in anger, her very body shook. D - D - Dog...?

"Dog...?" Her ears were obviously feline. No, her creators had called her that. Dog, less than human, less than anything.

Hope saw her muttering to herself, her eyes blazing with a frozen fire. Soon she would start lobbing spells at everyone gathered here.

Hope had to defuse the situation. "Fine!" he yelled, grabbing the attention of everyone gathered there. "If you want to cast us out, cast is out, but let my employees gather up their lives first! Let them decide if they want to stay or leave!"

The councilors glanced at each other for a moment and nodded.

"Fine then," Grant said flippantly, "let them come back into our home world if they so choose, but you and every ranking officer are forbidden to ever return to Cocoon," he sniffed at the very presence of Avalon, who was still muttering to herself, "And keep your dogs out of Cocoon, Director. They stink up the air."

(-)-(-)-(-)-(-)