Brave New World

Disclaimer: I do not own Sony, Squaresoft, Iron Maiden, or any other known franchise that might appear in my story. I will make no money from the posting of this fic. I do own a Playstation 2 and a copy of Final Fantasy VIII, though.

A word to ALL readers. This story was influenced by Triggerhappy777's "I wanna go home!". I e-mailed Triggerhappy and specifically asked permission to post a story with similar premise, and image, and was granted the ability to do so. Certain things will be similar in our stories but I am making a concentrated effort to make my story different from "IWGH!".

That said,sit back, read, enjoy, and review the story.

Dying swans twisted wings, beauty not needed here
Lost my love, lost my life, in this Garden of fear
I have seen many things, in a lifetime alone
Mother love is no more, bring this savage back home

Iron Maiden – Brave New World

The whipping air and the dark, ominous, rain promising clouds portrayed Vincent Marko's mood as he walked his way home from school. Above, the clouds started booming. The eighteen year old student felt life was unfair, and perhaps, just perhaps, he could be right.

Vincent Marko had a nice life so far, with most things served to him in a silver platter, a healthy social life, and a adoring family. So, when his girlfriend, Sarah, punched him in the face, instead of saying the casual 'we're done' and giving him the cold back, or even the finger for that matter, it actually hurt. Well, his face was in pain more than his pride - that girl packed quite a left hook -, but that didn't change things. Worst part, it wasn't his fault that the girl was outraged with something. Still, she left after punching him, not explaining herself, leaving him alone outside the school, where he layed on the ground, too dizzy to move.

Of course, taking a 'nap' wasn't too helpful, since the 'hollier-than-thou' Mr. Anderson wasn't approving of him being late in his class. Vincent had practically wished for the girl to have left him with a mark - a swollen eye could do the trick right then -, so that he could have walked out of the class to go to the infirmary instead of the headmaster's office. The headmaster wasn't approving of the whole situation as well. His punishment was.. righteous. Only two hours of detention for the next two days. When Vincent told him to go fuck himself - his patience was long past it's limit, and he always had a problem with authority -, the headmaster decided to give him four extra hours, to a maximum of six for the rest of the week. He was not allowed to go to the classes of the day, nor leave the school compound, thus not being able to write a test, occuring to immediate failure. Vincent decided to comply. He couldn't afford more punishment anyway, and didn't want for that stupid idiot to call his house.

So, the conclusion was this. It wasn't his day. As if his troubles weren't enough, the 'Bully' as he was called by the rest of the students, decided to approach Vincent at the lunchtime. 'Bully'. Such a fitting name, really. The kid was stout and tall, with a long ponytail flailing around, similar to a mane. His face did remind of a bull, and that was due to the stupid smile and creased eyes. In a sense, all that was missing were the horns. Bully, also known as Ralph Heckerson, did feature even the ring in the nose.

Vincent, on his own accord, was, as the girls described him, 'neither heavenly nor bad'. He thought that was a good thing when he first heard it, but shrugged it off. His skin was fair, he was rather well-built and tall, heighting 6'2, his shoulders wide and strong, those of someone who trained usually, and his limbs were quite long. Vincent wore grey sneakers, buggy black jeans, and a blue shirt. He had short unruly black hair, and his eyes were that of really bright azure. His chin was decorated with a well trimmed goatee.

Vincent turned to meet Bully, who was casually smirking, as if he owned the world. In truth, that expression gave him the look of someone who had crap under his nose, but no one dared to tell him that. "What do you want, Bull?" He asked. He was in no mood to beat around the bush with this guy, not with everything happening to him that same day.

"Got a smoke, Marko?" Bully asked, his brown eyes locking into blue ones.

"I might." Vincent responded. "What's it to you?"

"Well, could you spare a few cigares for ol'Bull, eh?" It wasn't really a question, but rather a command.

Vincent decided to fuck around. After all, his ego had already been hurt once today, there was no way for a fool like Bull to push him around. "Nah, sorry, Bull, not to many in the pack, you know?" He said, an arrogant smirk creeping up to his lips, similar to the one Bull wore. The basic difference was that Vincent's face did not portray stupidity, but cockiness. Unfortunately, those two were synonims.

Bull's hand reached for Vincent's collar. "I said give me a smoke, you piece of shit!" Vincent's smirk only widened to a full smile as his knee went sky high, connecting to the teen's groin. Bull fell to the ground immidiately, his 'pride' crushed behind Vincent's furious kick.

Vincent decided to taunt him. "How's that, Bull? Got yourself a fire, and where's fire there's smo-" He had underestimated Bull. He had gotten up imediately, screaming bloody murder and death, and punching Vincent straight to the chest, not powerful enough to cause damage, but with enough force to throw the two men on the ground, Bull on the top, his hands forming a tight grip around Vincent's neck.

"DIE!" He screamed, his saliva dripping on Vincent, who had enough. "You first", he managed to taunt between a moan and a wheeze, and punched Bull in the eye. As the other man lost balance and rose from on top of him, screaming in pain, Vincent's other hand moved to strike Bull's neck with a well aimed shot. Vincent was no push-over, having attended Kick Boxing classes since he was ten. The moment he struck the hulk's windpipe, Bull started coughing and wheezing. Never losing a beat, Vincent tossed one more punch, straight to Bull's face, making the larger student lose conciousness and fall to the floor. As Vincent got up from the ground, rubbing his rather sore neck, chaos around him ensued, the people who had watched the fight finally realising that Bull had fallen.

Amongst the crowd rushing in to take a better view, the Headmaster appeared, cold fury in the elder man's blue eyes. "What is going on here?" Asked the elder man, glancing upon the fallen form of Bull, and then at Vincent. "You again, huh?" The Headmaster actually smiled, and, the sheer cruelty behind his smile was enough to bring an icy chill up Vincent's spine..

So, after eight long hours of being locked in a classroom, Vincent finally got out of the school compound, and decided to head home. That was when the clouds above reached their zenith of holding back the moist, and purred down the water they were holding. Vincent glanced up, his tired form aching just from the tiny droplets falling on him. "Gee", he said to noone in particular up there, "Thanks."

He walked home, soaking wet, musing on the events of the day. How could all these be solved? He asked himself. He could always give Sarah a call, and try to fix things – even though he wasn't sure on what he had done wrong, to be honest. He'd have to attend in the detention, sure, but that wasn't too bad. And, finally, Bull. The kid had just lost conciousness, but that wasn't the bad part. He would gather company. Hell, Vincent mused, I'm lucky that sonuvah bitch hasn't been stalking me already. Clucking his tongue, he reached his house front door. He would finally get to have a hot meal, and maybe a beverage, and sleep.. All to served to him by his mother, while she would ask him how his day was, and he would lie, saying that it was perfect.

Beautiful.

Or was it? His key met the keyhole, and he twisted, expecting the door to open. It didn't with the first try, so he turned it again. Once more, it didn't open. "No.." He whispered, and unlocked the door. As his 'fantasy' collapsed to nothingness, Vincent entered his home, finding it devoid of life. Dropping his bag on the ground, he went straight to the kitchen where a paper not was hanging from the fridge's door.

Dear Vincent, It read, I am sorry, sweetheart, but you'll have to take care of yourself by yourself, since I got a call from work. There's no actual food in the fridge, but I'm sure you'll manage. I don't know what time I'll be back. Sorry! Mom.

Vincent banged the innocent's fridge door. "Damn it! Face it, Marko, it's not your lucky day." Vincent moved to the phone, musing over things. His parents had divorced four years ago, and he hadn't heard from his father ever since. His mather was depressed for a while, but she survived it, along with Vincent. She was strong enough to get a job, and keep it.

Vincent smiled. That's what he loved about his mother. Her confidence. He dialed a number on the phone, ordered a pizza, and grabbed his bag from the ground. He went to his room, but, on the way there, he noticed his Playstation 2, practically beaming at him from it's place in front of the television. "Screw you, homework", he yelled, and dropped the bag on the floor. He wasn't even going to bother with homework until he had forgot all about his sour mood. Vincent glanced upon his vast collection of videogames. He had to choose between espionage, fighting, shooting, an adventure, and, of course, RPGs.

He loved those. Vastworlds, swords, sorcery, eternal rivals, epic stories, in a sense, everything one needed to get away from reality. Smiling, he reached for one of his favourites.

Final Fantasy VIII.

He downright worshiped that game. It's characters, it's world, the history behind it, the fighting system, everything. Seifer's psychotic grin, Squall's indifferent "whatever", Edea's arrogant smirk, Rinoa's warm smile, and the list could go on and on until he forgot what he was talking about. So, taking a warm smile of his own, Vincent placed the 1st CD inside the PS2's reader, clutched the controller, and layed on the couch, ready to join Squall and the rest of the gang in their adventure.

He didn't feel like finishing the game, however. His current save point was right outside the final battle, so he opted to start a new game instead. His mood was getting already better, the second he heard the opening theme, Liberi Fatali.

"Fithos.. lusec.. wecos.. vinosec.." Came the chorus from the speakers, and Vincent readied himself for the opening scene in the beach, which advanced to the flower field where Rinoa and Squall promised that he would be waiting.. For what? He would be waiting, so, if she came there, Rinoa would find him. However, that scene never came. As a casual observer would comment; "Talk about a mood-killer".

And, indeed, Vincent got up from the couch, shouting. "Come on, don't do this to me!"

He walked to the PS2 and ducked to open the reader. Most probably, it was the CD's fault. Yeah, that was it, the CD was dirty or something, and it wouldn't play. Yeah, that's right. The music boomed from the television's speakers, and Vincent glanced up.. For his jaw to form a perfect 'O'.

His sight detected that something was not quite right. The beach was now in front of him, but it was way too vivid. Too real for his tastes. And what was wrong with the wind? Had he left a window open? Or could it be..

He glanced around him and at his surroundings, to let a little yelp and fall on the floor. But, instead of landing on his cozy carpet, he fell on a beach's sandy ground.. "No way!" He yelled. He looked around, in a frenzy, not believing what was happening.

How could this be? He was home, wasn't he? He felt around for his carpet. "I tripped and fell, that's it, I tripped and fell, and hit my head or something." His hand reached to something other than sand, and he allowed himself to open his eyes and look. What he saw startled him more than the sand.

There was a sword laying next to him. It was, beautiful, to say the least, a real work of art. It was a claymore, Vincent mused after he regained his composure, and judging on the sword's length. It's handle was one and half feet long, and it's blade was hidden in a black sheath. All in all, the massive sword was five feet long, and made of fine steel. Vincent had done his homework on swords before, more as a hobby rather than an actual activity, and found it difficult to believe that such a mastercraft item would be left in the middle of a beach. His eyes caught sight of letters on the sword's sheath. He neared his head to read, and, as he did, he heard a voice behind him. "Harbinger."

Not sooner that the voice had spoke this simple word, with reflexes he did not knew he had, Vincent had unsheathed the claymore, and readied himself for the onslaught. He did not expect the speaker to be a five year old blonde girl her hair caught in a pig tail, wearing a skirt and a blouse (which reminded Vincent of a SeeD uniform for some unknown reason). "Who are you?" He asked, his patience and sour mood returning.

"Chill," responded the girl, "I am not here to hurt you, big guy. I am here to give you the tutorial, and explain things, and then I'll be gone."

Vincent was dumbfounded to say the least. "Huh?" He croaked, his breath caught in his chest. What the hell is going on? He thought.

"Ok, here's the deal, Vincent. I am your PS2's spirit. Nice to meet you." Vincent resisted the urge to nod in acceptance. "Tchk. At least say hi, will you?" The girl frowned. "For some magical reason, which I cannot reveal yet, I have brought you in this place!" She winked to him as she spoke, and Vincent found himself lowering his sword, and waiting for answers.

"This place is Balamb. That thing over there is Balamb Garden." She pointed at the distance, and Vincent turned to what his.. PS2 had dubbed as the Balamb Garden. Balamb Garden was an immense building, towering over three hundred feet into the air. It was somewhat conical, with a rounded tip. The central structure of Balamb Garden loomed over the whole Garden grounds, painted white for the most part but with many decorative touches all around the main building. Directly above the central building, rotating in the air, was an immense glowing ring that slowly spun around the entire structure. Vincent was awed by the immense ring overhead. "How the hell does it do that?" He asked, bewildered.

The girl giggled. "What are you talking about?"

"How does the ring stay airborn?" He asked again, and he found his voice devoid of feeling and dull.

"I am five years old, silly! I am clueless about physics!" She responded playfully, tossing a wink and a pink tongue at him. "Anyway" She continued, "Pay attention." She stood straight, as if giving a lecture. "This is your reality now, Vincent. Everything you are about to experience is real. So, you should take it seriously. A Fire spell could deal you a lot of damage, even kill you, if you are not junctioned. A bullet to your head can also kill you, so you should be careful with guns as well."

Vincent stared at his sword while the girl spoke. "Finally, you have been imported here, but I sort of 'cheated' with the powers that did that. I gave you SeeD knowledge, sword training, basically combat stuff, as some information about the local customs. Saying 'Hyne' instead of 'God' will come really easily to you now." The girl (or it, considering she was a machine, as she stated) smiled at him.

"But, I also had to 'lock' parts of your brain. You might know the story, or at least think you do, but, you can't speak to someone about it."

Vincent stared at her, startled. "What?" The girl asked, faking shock. "You really are in a videogame, Vince. But there is no save/load, so be careful."

Vincent shook his head. "And what the hell am I supposed to do?" He yelled, his anger fuming once more.

"Dunno. Right now, you're a SeeD cadet. Go and become a SeeD." She shrugged. "Well, I think that's most about it. If I need to tell you something more, I'll give you a call, ok?" She smiled to him once more, and faded to nothingness.

Vincent stood there for a second, before shrugging as well. "This is either going to be the greatest thing that has happened to me, or life is about to shovel a huge load of shit on me." He said, and prepared to take his leave through the plains and towards the Balamb Garden.