Five Centuries Later
by Sora G. Strife
It was five hundred years after the first fall of Sephiroth. That's a very long time to wait, even for an immortal. The sun was shining brightly, an irony to what Cloud Strife was thinking. Nanaki had just gone to the cliff overlooking the ruin of Midgar, he could hear his roar from that long a distance. It resounded with his very soul, and sadness rushed over him. He was in the same building as he was always: in Aerith's church. The hole in the roof was still there, and the pews that were upturned during Tifa's battle with Loz were still like that, but aside from that nothing had changed; Cloud could take care of a structure that old for that long a time. Cloud had waited there in that church ever since Vincent died. Even Cloud was surprised at his friend's death: he had stayed twenty-nine for sixty years, and then had aged when Cloud was already a hundred, and died with a smile on his face, knowing that he could see Lucrecia once again. However, there would be no death for Cloud Strife. Age had not touched him at all, other than give him five hundred years worth of experience of battle and patience. She had promised to come back, and all he could do was wait.
Well, Aerith, if you're not coming back, then I am coming to you.
As Cloud thought this, flashes of his memories went through his head, like his life on fast-forward. He saw the time that he had dealt the first wound on Sephiroth's body, saw the time that Zack had given him the Buster Sword, saw the time that he first met Aerith, saw the time that he first met Aerith, saw the time that he dealt the final blow to the demon in his head. He saw the time that he fought Sephiroth once more, Rosso the Crimson a year later, saw the times that his friends died off one by one, save Nanaki. Marlene and Denzel's descendants live to that day, however.
Wait. He saw Aerith for the first time twice? Then a new section of his life opened up in his mind. He saw himself rudely greeting Ramza and Mustadio as he first arrived in Ivalice, he saw himself trudging towards something he could not identify, but his instincts told him to do it nonetheless. He saw himself meeting the flower girl of Sal Ghidos, saw himself battle a group of ruffians, who of all things, tried to persuade her into selling her body, saw this Aerith get killed by the syndicate behind those ruffians. She never stood a chance against a group of archers who shot her to death. He could have saved her if he was not so weak. He was so weak. He saw himself drink a potion of youth that he brewed himself using stolen Yggdrassil Mistletoe, from Ramza, for as Aerith said herself, she would come back. He was willing to wait.
The five seconds was enough. A figure opened the doors to the church and entered those huge gates. Cloud stood up, unable to believe his eyes.
"I told you I would come back for you, Cloud," came the soft, delicate angel's voice that he had not heard in a very long time.
"And so you did, Aerith. Let's go together."
They walked out of that door, leaving Cloud's heavy luggage known as his body behind.