Sorry about this being so long in coming Hoshi, but here it is. This AU will at points be very dark, angsty, tragic and sad but also with some parts heroism, romance and adventure. This will be my last post for some time as my finals are almost upon me and I've got to go do them now. Enjoy.
It was a peaceful town, a pleasant town. It was a town that exemplified the idea of quaint country living. The inhabitants were all happy with their lives, busily going about their jobs, working on their businesses, keeping their gardens. They were doing the jobs that normal people do. Everyone one looked one could see the people smiling and laughing as they went about their work, neighbours keeping in touch, shopkeepers greeting their regulars, lovers exchanging embraces and friends calling out greetings. Here one man rebuked the dog that had "done a nasty," as he called it, on his lawn, there a woman gave her son some instructions for the groceries. It was all so very picturesque. However, as one looked at it, the more one realised that there was something a little wrong with the picture. Well, not quite wrong, just out of place. It wasn't the people themselves, they all were perfectly normal. It wasn't their actions either, they too were perfectly normal. Perhaps it was the way that one building overshadowed the whole place. It was a little away from the main body of the town, big, black and overbearing, the building exuded austerity and an aura of power, a dark power. There was no mistaking the barely veiled menace that the building demonstrated. That building was evil. And that is what gave the truth to the situation that existed in that town, it did not belong there. In truth however, Nibelheim truly should not have existed. The real Nibelheim had vanished beneath a wave of flame, ash and the sword of mako eyed madman.
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Beneath the stone and mortar of that manor building, activity scurried and clicked. It would remind one of cockroaches, busily infesting rotted wood, a stain on an otherwise peaceful locale. Certainly, if any deserved the title of cockroaches, these men did. Scientists and geneticists, men who believed in the results one could gain from specimens and experimentation. Generally considered worthy work, necessary for the betterment of society, the work that these men did could never fall within those parameters of medicinal research or technological advancement. What these scientists experimented on were the two forms of two young men, strapped into mako tanks. Inside of them, the volatile substances, far beyond those of normal Shinra SOLDIER procedure, had rendered both of them comatose and lethargic, barely able to resist when they were dragged out of the tanks for their daily slicing and dicing. Blood soaked tables littered the room alongside tables laden with syringes, scalpels and other instruments of torture. For these were very interesting specimens for the megalomaniac who oversaw all of this.
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In the tanks themselves, the two men barely stirred. One blond haired, one black haired, the two of them had been good friends in life, now they were just as close in death. Well, not death as such, but certainly this was hell. Liquid agony lanced through their veins, curdling their blood and robbing them of breathe and life, while at the same time keeping them alive. Forever drowning, forever resuscitated, always in pain. The constant pumping of sedatives kept them from waking, but that did not stop the pain. And it added the nightmares. Horrific memories of blood and flame and those horrible green eyes, smiling malevolently down at them, alight with the gleam of pure insanity. One of them finally managed to gain a breath from the horrors that awaited him in his dreams. All he could see was a blank room, hidden behind a green veil of anguish.
"Is this all you have?"
The young man jerked his head upright. He knew that voice.
"What happened to your honour? What happened to your dreams?"
It was the voice of the man he'd killed.
"Come on Zack, you can do better than this!"
The figure appeared to him, a tall man, with one white wing extending from his right shoulder. "Perhaps I was wrong to entrust my honour to you."
"Angeal! Angeal!" Zack screamed, desperately trying to reach the apparition. He knew it was all in his head, but that did not stop him reaching for whatever aid lay there. "Angeal please!"
"I was wrong to trust you to act with honour." Angeal turned his back on his one time student.
"No, Angeal please! I'm sorry, I failed you! I couldn't live up to your honour, or my dreams. I'm no hero. But please don't leave me here Angeal. Angeal!" he screamed as the apparition faded from existence, leaving him alone once more.
Another shot of sedatives blasted through his nervous system. As the room once more faded from existence, and the nightmares rose once more with their crimson soaked claws, those disappointed blue eyes seemed so much worse than any green could.
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He could feel it. He could feel the weight of thousands of souls, all of them part of the great Lifestream, all of them depending on him. He could see her, the Goddess. This was truly her gift, and a righteous gift it was. How glad he was that he had been deemed worthy. A living instrument of the Planet's Will, a Guardian of Its Life, a new soul forged in green fire by the power of a stone. He had come in supplication, seeking his rebirth and his salvation, and he had been received wholeheartedly. His body was rid of the curse, his skin free of blemish and his mind whole once more. But there was something new pressing on his mind, something that replaced his need for safety. A need for vengeance. These despicable creatures must be eradicated, their structures torn down, any who supported them destroyed. His mother must be saved. The Planet had to be saved, and it was now his duty to do so. This new power he had obtained was not enough, those who had followed him would need to get involved, as well as any he could gain. There was a grave threat to the world coming to life, and he needed to set things right. As he glanced down at his new, empowered body, he thought about his next move. It would need to be swift, righteous and strong. For the past four years he had been little more than a rumour in the world, seeking out his own goals and agenda's, avoiding conflict as much as possible. He knew now that he was no longer the primary target of the public wrath, that was reserved for some small terrorist group that seemed to be doing some sort of damage to the enemy. Commendable, but hardly enough and he needed to rectify that situation himself. As he took a moment to think, he knew that his current form would not be suited to the task. Drawing on the power within him, the Gift of the Goddess, he focused. Bones shifted and reformed, muscles contracted and reshaped, his nervous system rearranged itself. There was pain, but in the new vast recesses of his mind it was a minor pain, barely there at all and certainly of no import to him now.
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The gate to the Resurrection Chamber slid open and the three guards outside turned. A man dressed in a pale red leather coat over a black uniform stepped out through it. His eyes shone with a new light and his hair had returned to its original cinnamon glory. The strange sickness which had also covered his clothes in dust had vanished, leaving him looking like a new man.
"Lieutenant General Rhapsodos! Sir!"
They snapped to attention. He walked with that same confident stride, with the casual swagger of a man who has courted death on numerous occasions, been intimate with combat and who's capable of leading troops in battle. His eyes shone with a refreshed light and those present were reminded of the old days when he'd led them against Wutai and their army. Before everything had changed. But now his eyes shone with that same light once more, and his resolve had strengthened. But there was something else, something new. His presence had changed, as if he was something more than merely human now, far beyond the level of a super soldier. When not looking directly at him, there was an aura of nebulous green energy swirling around him, constantly shifting and gathering. Far beyond a simple super soldier now, more than a super soldier. There was a supernatural air about him, as if the air itself was warping about him, with the constant sense that there was something heavy in the air. That he was restraining himself. However, it was only a small doubt that fled through the minds of those who served him. In his eyes was the same old light of passion and life that they had missed for the past six years. The old General was back, and they would follow him into the mouth of Hell itself.
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"We have a new mission men."
A map was spread out on the table in front of him. Genesis paused for a few minutes as he planned this next all important move of his. He could hear the voice of the Goddess clearly in his mind now. Before he had required to read Loveless constantly in order to interpret the will of the Goddess, but now… now he had the gift. But what he now needed was to be faithful to the giver of the gift. "Report."
"Shinra is wounded right now. They've kept us off the top of the agenda for a while. Ever since we downscaled our attacks, we've not been considered a direct threat to Shinra's superiority. Wutai rebels and terrorist attacks have taken Shinra's precedence."
"In addition to that, most of our armoury is still in great condition and ready for battle. The same cannot be said of our infantry however. Despite taking many monsters into our forces, we've still got a problem with the manpower shortage. SOLDIER attacks during our main campaign sapped a large portion of our manpower. If we plan a new campaign, we'll need fresh troops."
Genesis leaned over the map carefully. "What about recruiting?"
That silenced everyone.
"Sir?" One of the SOLDIER 2nd's asked.
Genesis looked up, his eyes alight with power and a new purpose. "I'm going to tear down Shinra and everything else that threatens this planet. If anyone sides with Shinra we'll wipe them out. This is no longer a campaign of hit and run guerrilla tactics, my friends, this is a war!"
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Deep within the bowels of the planet, another mind stirred. Malice, cruelty and insanity written into it, the mind turned its thought towards the people above. They were insects, insignificant and small. In truth the mind wondered why it had ever considered itself one of them. They were weak and fragile, not even worthy of the effort required to keep them alive. How degrading. And the mind had once thought of itself as human. No, the mind had never been human, not once, not ever, He had never been human, not once, not ever. Truth is what it is, and he knew the truth. This world was not worthy of him, so it would need to be remade once more, remade in his image. After all, that was what his Mother had once desired, was it not? There was truly only one being capable of ruling this planet. Not the humans, weak and pathetic as they were, not even the long dead Cetra, who had proved their worth by dying out and being replaced by a weaker species. No, the only true ruler of this world, was him, the being who had once been called, Sephiroth. The mind smiled. It was good to have a name once more. Sephiroth cast out his mind, and began his search.